#it can only be classified as a shriek | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avis-writeshq · 2 months

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not me asking for it https://www.tumblr.com/avis-writeshq/744966259884556288/if-someone-asks-for-it-ill-write-a-fic-based-on?source=share

pairing: s9!spencer reid x fem!reader genre: fluff, established relationship, SMUT warnings: 18+ CONTENT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !! oral fem receiving, spencer reid is a munch, hair pulling, fingering a/n: a promise is a promise !! based off of this post <3 i hope this lived up to expectations !! first time writing fem oral ha h a ha wc: 1.1k

Honestly, if there’s one person Spencer can blame for the situation he is currently in, he blames himself. After all, he should have known that a ‘gathering’ at Rossi’s house that was planned by Penelope would only call for a lot of teasing, a lot of ‘get to know each other!’ games (despite the fact that he has worked with this same team for more than seven years. What else is there to know?), and a lot of alcohol. He didn’t quite realise that these games would be of the drinking variety. Alas, here he is, sitting on one of Rossi’s incredibly expensive leather couches and cringing at the horrid taste of whiskey.

The game they’re currently playing is an alcoholic’s rendition of ‘who is most likely to?’, involving a thick stack of cards with different topics while each member of the team took turns reading out. Whoever ended up with the most amount fingers pointed in their direction was forced to drink.

Spencer hates this game. He has drank from his cup a grand total of six times, and he is not getting any more used to the spicy-poison-equivalent in his hand.

“Alright, this is a good one,” Derek announces with a manic snigger. “Who here is most likely to be a munch?”

There is no hesitation in anyone’s answers, and all six fingers point into Spencer’s direction. His jaw drops at the betrayal, his head spinning from the sheer amount of shots he had to take but also what the hell is a munch?

“I don’t even know what that means!” He insists.

“Oh–” Penelope wears a half delighted half pitying expression at his words. “We really need to get you onto the internet more. Reddit is probably up your alley.”

“Even Rossi knows what it means,” Emily cackles, gesturing to Rossi who looks all too pleased. “Hotch was my second option though.”

Aaron shrugs, sipping at his drink. “Guilty.”

A chorus of laughs and shrieks erupt from the group, leaving Spencer even more confused. “What?”

“Don’t Google it,” JJ chimes in. “Seriously.”

Spencer nods, and although he knows that he should have taken the warning seriously, the curiosity was getting to him and he had no choice but to search it up as soon as he got home. He gets the usual answers– the etymology of the word, what it means in the Oxford Dictionary, the popularity of the word since the early 1800s, and he really doesn’t understand what the fuss is. Does the team think that he eats loudly? Or that he chews with his mouth open? His brows furrow at the unsightly thought.

His interest soon shifts to a different a different link, namely The Urban Dictionary. He blinks, clicking on the link without much thought and– oh. He does not get much sleep that night.

***

Your relationship with Spencer isn’t a secret. At least, it was never supposed to be classified as such. He is simply an incredibly private person that even his closest friends don’t know that you exist. It simply never popped up in conversation– or so he says.

The relationship isn’t necessarily new either. It’s nearing the one year mark and you have gotten to the point where the two of you have been more ‘experimental’ when it comes to sex. He finds it embarrassing. You find it unsurprising that he would. You find it even more surprising when he breaks a kiss halfway to lower you onto his bed, your head falling to one of his very expensive memory foam pillows.

“I want to try something,” he announces softly into your ear, squeezing gently at your waist and looping his fingers into his shorts. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, body hot with anticipation as he pulls down your shorts. It’s only when he brings his face between your thighs do you realise what he intends to do. “Spence, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” he repeats softly, his fingers running up and down the lacy fabric at your slit. “If you want me to stop, you can tell me.”

You shake your head immediately at that, your hands moving to his grip his shoulders. “No, I don’t want you to stop but– but Spence, this is the first time you’ve done this. It’s okay–”

“Let me do this for you,” he says, his breath ghosting against the sensitive skin of your thighs. “I’ve done my research.”

“What–”

You’re silenced as soon as he presses his lips to your cunt, only separated by your pretty lacy underwear. He groans quietly at the taste of your slick seeping through the fabric, and his hands hold onto your thighs to keep them parted. It’s so good, so good, but it just isn’t enough. He pushes the fabric to the side, watching the way it clings and sticks to your skin.

All it takes is one swipe of his tongue on your pretty clit for his brain to grow blank. The grip he has on your thighs grow firmer and his fingers dig in hard enough to leave little marks. His nose bumps against your clit while his tongue travels against your folds.

“You taste so fucking good,” he breathes against you, lapping at your dripping cunt. “Fuck, angel, you’re so beautiful.”

Then, he’s on you all over again. His lips wrap around your clit and he whines into you as he sucks at the bundle of nerves. Each one of his actions has your back lifting from the bed and your hands tugging at his curls, to which he responds with a quiet moan. Amidst the pleasure, your mind nags you to be gentle, and you loosen your grip despite it taking all of your self control.

“Do that again.” He says it as a demand, guiding your hands back into his hair. “Do it again, angel.”

His head is spinning and he craves for more of you, his tongue flattening against your clit over and over again. He brings his own fingers to brush against your entrance, coating them with your slick before slipping his middle finger inside. It’s only the first knuckle but it’s enough to have you squirming beneath him. He pushes further until it reaches all the way, and Spencer groans at the feeling of you tightening around him. He kisses your clit again at the same time he curls his finger inside you and it’s all too much.

“Spence–”

You gush around his finger and he licks and laps at your pussy like he needs it to breathe. His finger curls open and closed inside you while you rock your hips against his face, your grip on his hair tightening as each second of your high passes.

“So good,” Spencer moans, kissing your clit. “Taste so good. You can do one more, right, angel? Just one more, I promise.”

reblogs are always appreciated !!

tagging the people who commented on the original post: @mosaicbrokenherz @doigettokeepyou @goblinintheblog @cassioxpeiaxmgg @daddytenebra @lilliumrorum @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @lightreiding

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devildom-moss · 3 months

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Signs of Affection (kiss)

Part 2 of this request (Lucifer, Leviathan, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon)

(Mammon x gn!MC) (Satan x gn!MC) (Asmodeus x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC) (Solomon x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +4,100 (we aren't going to talk about the size difference between these shorts okay?)

Mammon

“Geez, that sucked. Two hours of silent studyin’ for an F? I got a different F for that guy: a big ‘fuck you,’” Mammon grumbled to himself with his hands folded behind his head as he walked out of his mandatory extra lessons – or rather, they could have been classified as lessons if he had actually learned anything. Instead, Mammon spent the first 5 minutes trying to read one paragraph four times and the next 3 minutes trying to read the following paragraph before he became acutely aware that the supervising professor for today was watching him. He was clearly disappointed and judgmental of Mammon’s ongoing failure to turn the page. For the rest of his lesson, Mammon alternated between daydreaming about you – twisting your image in his head into a variety of different scenarios from innocent dates to the most depraved acts – and counting how many times he could spot the first letter of your name on the page. At least with the latter, it looked like he was reading.

“Mammon! How was delinquent rehab?” you teased him from your spot on the bench outside of the class.

Mammon shrieked and jumped. “W-what the fuck are ya doin’ here?!”

“MAMMON!” The supervisor poked his head out of the door. “Stop yelling in the hall and go home before I decide to keep you for another hour.”

“Sorry, that was my fault, Professor Amy. I startled him.” You stood up and bowed slightly, hoping the astronomy – and somehow, simultaneously, art – professor would go easy on Mammon if you took the heat.

“Oh, it’s you.” You were right to hope; Amy’s tone instantly softened. “If you’re on your way home, please take this loudmouth with you.”

“Who ya callin’ a loudmouth, man?” Mammon growled. You cupped your hand over his mouth; better late than never.

“Yes, I’ll be on my way now. I was just waiting for Mammon to finish his lessons.”

“Does being an idiot pay off after all?” Amy mused aloud – mostly to annoy the muzzled Mammon. “Very well. Be safe on your way home.”

“Alright, thank you, sir.” You smiled at him and began to drag Mammon down the hall. You only uncovered his mouth once the professor had gone back inside, and you were safely out of earshot.

“’Thank you, sir,’” Mammon mocked you. “Fuck was all that? You ain’t fuckin’ that teacher now are ya?”

“No, you pervert. It’s called being polite. You’d probably get in less trouble if you tried it with a few of your professors.”

“What’cha doin’ bein’ all polite to him for, anyway? Guy’s not even a good teacher, and he clearly has a human kink. Just stay away from him.”

“I almost never talk to him outside of our classes.” You rolled your eyes at Mammon. His jealousy had been excessive recently. As a slight punishment, you decided to tease him. “And why do you know so much about human kinks that you can recognize it in someone else?”

“Shuddup. It ain’t like that!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t have a human kink or nothing,” Mammon yelled. His cheeks burned, and he blurted out, “it’s only you.”

“Sorry, what was that?” you teased, biting back your smile.

“I didn’t say shit. Forget it.” Mammon crossed his arms as he picked up his speed just enough to walk ahead of you, hoping to avoid showing you the blush that stained his face.

“Okay, Mammon.” You dropped it, allowing him a bit of his dignity.

You both walked in silence for a minute until, finally, Mammon slowed down and started to walk beside you again. His blush had calmed. He glanced to the side briefly, trying not to draw your attention, but you noticed and smiled at him. Why do ya always look so cute ‘n happy when you’re walkin’ home with me, huh? What gives? Mammon wondered. If something as simple as walking home could make you smile like that, you were going to start charming demons left and right, and Mammon had no intention of sharing any more of you than he had to. That’s why he was so annoyed by you being nice to that professor. Just thinking about the way that demon’s face softened around you was pissing him off.

Suddenly, Mammon remembered what you had said, and his cheeks reignited in a faint blush. Nervous and masking his shyness with aggression, Mammon asked, “Hey, were ya serious about that back there – about just waitin’ for me to get out?”

“Yeah, of course I was.”

“For real? Ya waited two whole hours?”

“For my favorite hole? Yeah.” You smirked.

“Shuddup!” Mammon’s face burned. “Now who’s bein’ a perv?!”

“At least we’re even.” You smiled sweetly, as if you hadn’t just said something so vulgar – on a public street, no less.

Mammon stopped in his tracks, confidence surging in him. You stopped and looked back, confused. He grinned. “Ya must really love the Great Mammon, huh?”

“Sure do,” you readily agreed.

“I knew it!” Mammon pronounced – as if the occasional doubt had never wandered into his head. While he still had the courage to act, Mammon grabbed the sides of your face and quickly placed a kiss on your cheek. He whispered in your ear, “Thanks for bein’ so sweet to me, MC.”

Before you could register what had just happened, Mammon took off running towards the House of Lamentation. He pulled out his phone, skillfully dodging random obstacles and other demons as he appeared to start typing something. Seconds later, your D.D.D. buzzed.

Mammon: First one home gets a real kiss from the loser. Deal?

You laughed and stared down the street, watching as Mammon increased the distance between you. There was no way you were going to catch up to him.

MC: Deal. 💛

Satan

Satan was utterly thrilled when he found out the library had finally received the book that he requested two months ago. He insisted upon checking it out immediately after class, and since you had studying to do anyway, you went along with him.

With his new book acquired, Satan joined you at the small table you had settled into and began to read. However, his attention’s lifespan was uncharacteristically short despite his initial excitement. Satan’s eyes wandered away from the page, drifting up to you. Each time he tried to refocus on the book, his gaze punished him for a failure to indulge himself by lingering on you.

Few things enticed Satan more than you – especially when you got that serious look on your face. He had tried to keep reading too many times to keep track of, and now he couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from you again. So, he just sat there, watching you read over your notes, recopying the most relevant points on a fresh sheet of paper. You were being so diligent.

One of the awful things about demons is that the alarm bells that go off in your head when you think someone is watching you are stronger and scarier when that someone is a powerful demon – and the fear your innate human senses created under the predatory gaze of a demon like Satan, whose sin was a destructive and devastating wrath, was intense. It sent a shiver up your spine, and when you looked up to find Satan’s eyes locked on your face, you jumped in your seat slightly. He didn’t need to look so hungry.

“Please stop staring, Satan.” You looked away, trying to turn your attention back to your studies.

“You don't want me to stare at you?” Satan got out of his seat across the table and took the spot right next to you. He propped his chin up in his hand and stared at you up close, eyeing you up and down with a smug grin on his face. “I want to. What's the problem?"

“It’s a bit distracting to have your eyes on me.” That was at least mostly true. There was no need to mention he was also turning you on in public. “I’d rather you not just stare at me.”

“Is that all?” Satan laughed. “You don’t want me to just stare? Very well.”

Satan leaned in, slowly shutting his eyes, and kissed your cheek. His warm lips lingered on your skin and his hot breath tickled. You could feel another chill run up your spine when his eyes fluttered back open. Even when he pulled back, his mouth hovered just over your cheek.

Another set of eyes landed on you. From a few aisles away, another library regular was stunned in their spot, mortified to have witnessed the Avatar of Wrath kissing a human in the library – not that they hadn’t seen worse. They gave you an awkward wave before turning and walking in the opposite direction, abandoning the book they had been searching for.

“Satan,” you chided him.

“What?” Satan hummed, inching closer to your ear, and whispered, “Do you still want more?”

“Someone saw.” You felt a bit guilty about it, too. Their embarrassment matched yours; in fact, it may have been even worse. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I wanted to. And who cares if someone saw? What are they going to do about a kiss on the cheek? It’s fine.” Satan placed another kiss on your cheek before returning to whisper seductively in your ear, “Besides, we’ve done worse. Don’t act so shy and innocent now. Do you need a reminder of all the things we’ve done – or perhaps you’d prefer a physical demonstration?”

What did you do to deserve this? You were just trying to study.

Asmodeus

“You weren’t waiting too long for moi, were you?” Asmo rushed to the table that you had grabbed when you arrived. He had a grin on his lips, but that charming smile was a cover for the guilt and anxiety he felt about being fifteen minutes late for your date. He couldn’t figure out which pair of socks to wear to complement his boots and skirt – and in the end, he just ended up pulling on a pair of lace stockings. Usually, Asmo didn’t care if he was a little late, but the idea of leaving you all alone in a demon-infested night café didn’t sit well with him.

“I would have happily waited much longer – especially when you show up, looking this cute.” You smiled at him sweetly, and every inch of Asmo’s body burned.

“Ooh, you little charmer.” Asmo giggled. “Did you order yet?”

“Of course not; I wanted to wait for you.”

“Such an obedient human,” Asmo teased, leaning over the table and resting his chin on his hand. He stared at you affectionately.

“I’ve never been called that in my life.” You laughed, and that only made Asmo happier to have said it.

“Want me to go up and order? Just tell me what you want – other than me, of course.” Asmo got to his feet and waited patiently for you to relay your order. With a smile and a wink, Asmo booped your nose. “Excellent. Now make sure to enjoy the view.”

Before you could question him, Asmo spun around and walked toward the register. Each step was a deliberate effort to draw your attention to his legs and ass. Oh. That view. Asmo was a hopeless flirt, but he was awfully sweet, too. Besides, you couldn’t deny that it was a good view.

Unfortunately, as Asmo returned from placing the order, he was faced with the irritating realization that he was not the only view in the café. He caught a handful of demons leering at you – and one of them appeared to be approaching. Not on Asmo’s expensive, crystal watch. He hurried back to the table just in time to cut off the tall demon, placing his delicate hand over your shoulder possessively. With a haunting smile, Asmo stared them down. He announced – more to the other demon than to you, “I’m back, hun. Did you miss me?”

A shiver ran up the demon’s spine, and their eyes went wide. They weren’t about to square up with Asmodeus over a human – not after all the rumors they had heard about bloodlust being stronger in lust demons than those ruled by wrath. The demon awkwardly tried to escape by blurting out, “enjoy your date.”

The demon scurried away quickly, and you looked up at Asmo just in time for his menacing aura to dissipate. “That was weird, right?”

“Some people just can’t act right around cuties.” Asmo dismissed your worry with a lighthearted laugh.

“So, you get that a lot?”

“Sometimes, but I don’t mean me.” Asmo leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You’re so cute it’s drawing attention.”

“I’m not as cute as you, though.” You smiled. “Now, sit down with me.”

“Actually, I was hoping we could snap a few pictures first. Do you mind?”

“Sure, I guess.” You shrugged and started to stand, but Asmo used his hand that was still resting on your shoulder to push you back down into your seat.

“No need to get up,” Asmo cooed. He took a step back and leaned over your chair so he could get right next to your face and drape his arms over you. “This position is perfect.”

Asmo snapped a few pictures. With each one, he seemed to get closer until his cheek was pressed to yours affectionately. He asked you to make a half heart with your hand and completed it with his own. Then, catching you off guard, Asmo kissed your cheek tenderly, waiting a few seconds before finally snapping a picture. He immediately pulled his phone back and stood up to discreetly examine the photo. The shit-eating grin on his face spoke for itself. He was all too pleased with it.

“What was that?” You scoffed. You probably should have anticipated that level of physical affection from Asmo, but sometimes, he still surprised you.

“Hmm? Isn’t it obvious?” Asmo looked down at you, innocently tilting his head. “I had to mark my territory.”

“What?” Your eyes widened. Sure, Asmo was always teasing you and flirting, but you hadn’t quite expected that answer. Asmo giggled and bent over, getting indecently close to your neck.

“I had to mark you,” he repeated in a low, seductive tone. “Would you rather I leave a hickey on your neck right now instead? I’d be happy to.”

“Just be a good boy and sit down.” You sighed. It wasn’t that embarrassing, but all you could do was imagine Lucifer’s voice scolding you for indulging Asmo too much in public.

“Ooh, I do want to be your good boy. Okay.” Asmo grinned, biting back the urge to call you one of a myriad of unacceptable titles, and returned to his seat across from you. He pulled his phone out and started messing with it. “See, I’m behaving.”

You laughed. Something told you that he was not, in fact, behaving. It only took a few minutes of mindless chatting while he continued tapping away at his phone – a habit you were so accustomed to that it usually didn’t strike you as rude – for your suspicion to be confirmed.

Your D.D.D. buzzed with an alert from Asmo’s Devilgram. He posted the picture of him kissing your cheek with a pink heart emoji covering your face – for the sake of your privacy. That was decent of him. You smiled softly, certain that Asmo was watching you. It already had over 6k likes by the time you scrolled down to read the caption: Ugh. My date is so cute that they’re attracting all sorts of attention. No one else deserves to see that cute face tonight but moi~ What do you think, everyone, should I mark them for myself?

Asmo was spared a playful lecture when his name was called at the counter. You got up to help him carry the drinks and food back to your table. The barista seemed to be staring at you, but when Asmo put his finger up to his lips, they got flustered and looked away, returning to their work. Covering your face in the picture served another purpose: Asmo was hiding the gloss mark he left on your cheek. You didn’t need to know about it yet.

Belphegor

Belphie was lucky that you had chosen to sit in the back of the lecture hall where he could comfortably lean up against your shoulder and fall asleep without immediate repercussions. At least he was polite enough to nap on the shoulder for your non-dominant hand so you could continue to take notes as you listened to the lecture. Occasionally, you glanced down at his sleeping face; he looked so sweet, peaceful, and adorable.

The clock ticked down the few remaining minutes of the lecture, which was your cue to begin the wake-up process. Although Belphegor seldom cared what his brothers or the professor thought about him using you as a pillow during class, you found that it was easier to just wake him up before the complaints came rolling in. You set your pen down, pet Belphie gently, and whispered his name so that only he would hear you. A soft moan left him, and he nuzzled into your arm before leisurely opening his eyes with a content smile.

“Good morning, MC.” Belphie whispered into your ear.

Reluctantly, Belphegor forced himself upright and away from the warmth of your body just in time for the lecture to be dismissed. The professor and other students gathered their things and collectively made their way towards the doors. You, however, waited on Belphegor to shake off his nap and get to his feet.

“C’mon, MC. Catch up,” Mammon shouted from the front of the class.

“Give us a second,” you replied at a lower volume.

“Man, you two are so slow. I ain’t waitin’ around forever.” Mammon groaned and made his way slowly towards the door.

“He would know slow,” Belphie muttered just loud enough for you to hear as he stood up.

“Belphie,” you chided him, but your tone went ignored.

“Hey, can I borrow your notes later? Maybe we could review together.” There was a soft, sweet neediness in Belphie’s voice.

“Didn’t you catch the lecture in your sleep like you usually do?” Sometimes Belphie’s ability to remember things that happened around him while he was asleep creeped you out. He was like an unassuming monitoring device if he wanted to be.

“Indulge me.” Belphie knocked his shoulder against yours playfully.

“I always do, don’t I?” You sighed. That was the unfortunate effect he had on you: you always found yourself spoiling him, even when he didn’t deserve it – or rather, especially when he didn’t.

You were just about to walk into the hall when Belphie grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the classroom before the others spotted you. He played with your hand, caressing you with his thumbs. His cheeks were stained light pink as his eyes flitted from your hand to your face.

“What’s the matter, Bel?”

Belphie closed the distance between you, springing forward to kiss your cheek. The sudden movement surprised you, but it wasn’t especially shocking; Belphegor had always been physically affectionate. He inched closer, causing his hot breath to ghost over your skin. His lips curved into a precious grin as he whispered in your ear: “Thank you for always spoiling me.”

The honey-sweet tone of Belphie’s voice was undercut by a sharp yell from the corner of the room. “I saw that.”

It was Solomon. He stopped shoving his books into his bag to glare at the back of Belphegor’s head. Unfortunately for Solomon, Belphie wasn’t bothered; he simply rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Cool shit, bro.” Belphie replied in a condescending tone and lifted his arm up in the air to flip Solomon off. You watched Solomon’s jaw drop slightly as he physically recoiled. Sometimes Solomon forgot how rude Belphegor could be. It was hard not to laugh, but you really shouldn’t encourage his bad behavior by laughing. “Come on, MC. Let’s go.”

Belphie grabbed your arm and dragged you into the hall. He was attached, and he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon. In fact, he planned to stay glued to your side until his desire for your attention was fully satisfied.

Solomon

The warmth of Solomon’s hands as he caressed your cheek was nothing compared to the warmth of his praise and your own pride swelling in your chest. Solomon hummed, “You did such a good job.”

You had successfully used a heating spell on the first try, evidenced by the warmth in Solomon’s previously cold hands. It had been a while since you got a spell that Solomon taught you perfect right away – let alone one that required you to manipulate another person’s body (and you could worry about the ethical dilemma involved with that later). Neither of you had expected you to raise his body temperature at such an ideal rate and stop at the perfect temperature. Of course, Solomon trusted you not to hurt him, but he was impressed by your control. He wanted to test you further.

“Excellent. Let’s try something similar.” Solomon began to search his shelves for the right ingredients. He continued to talk as he scanned, “I want to see if you can cool down an external object with the same level of control. If you can do it, I’ll reward you.”

“Bring it on,” you accepted. Solomon offered you plenty of praise when you did well, but he so rarely gave you an actual reward for your work. It was exciting to imagine what you could earn. Maybe he would teach you a cool, secret spell or give you a magical item. But more motivating than a reward was the idea of making Solomon proud.

“That’s my apprentice – so eager,” he mused, grabbing a bottle of glowing red liquid.

“Oh, but no home cooking as a reward,” you added, sparing your future self from potential suffering.

Solomon whipped his head around with a pout before returning to his search. He found a beaker and brought everything to his desk. By then, the pout had reshaped itself into a smirk. “I didn’t have cooking in mind when I offered you a reward, so it looks like we have a deal.”

Solomon poured plain water and the glowing red liquid into the beaker. They failed to mix. You asked, “What do I have to do?”

It was simple – or at least that was what Solomon said. All you had to do was cool the contents of the container between 32 to 36 degrees below the freezing point of water. If the red substance dipped under 36 degrees below the freezing point of water, it would become unstable. If you failed, the ice and glass would break open. Solomon didn’t tell you anything about the red substance or what “unstable” meant for it. All you knew was that you had a four-degree margin of error.

“And you’re sure it’s safe?”

“I wouldn’t put my favorite apprentice in danger for a game, would I?”

With that reassurance, you focused your magic into the beaker. As the water slowly solidified, the red liquid became concentrated at the center until it was encased in ice. You just had to keep lowering it until something felt right. You stopped and nodded. Solomon inspected the beaker.

“A beautiful job,” Solomon praised you.

“Really? What did I do though?”

“I’ll tell you once the ice melts,” Solomon waved off your curiosity. “For now, it’s time for your reward. Close your eyes.”

You did as he instructed and listened to him moving about the room. His presence got closer until you could feel his warmth. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, causing your eyes to shoot open and your face to burn. Solomon chuckled at your response.

“I could feel your cheeks getting warm. Did I embarrass you?”

“No. I was just surprised.”

“Really?” Solomon leaned in and kissed your cheek again. “I don’t know. Your face burns under my lips.”

“You’re a terrible teacher,” you retorted. That wasn’t what you were expecting, of course he flustered you.

“Oh? That can’t possibly be true. My adorable apprentice seems to be doing quite well,” Solomon laughed, all too pleased with his successful attempt to tease you. “You learn so quickly. Should we try something even harder? Think you can handle it?”

There was a seductive tint to his words, and you narrowed your eyes at Solomon. “Same shady reward system? Pass.”

“Nope,” Solomon leaned close, trying to entice you. How were you just now noticing how sweet he smelled? Was he wearing perfume or cologne today? You didn’t have time to linger on the thought. Solomon dropped his voice, and through a wicked smirk, he added, “even shadier. If you succeed, I’ll do whatever you ask for a full day.”

“And if I fail?” you asked cautiously.

“I get to punish you.”

(gift version - Beelzebub, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)

A/N: These ones got really flirty. . . oh well. Uhm, leave me nice comments or something. I don't know. I feel like I'm forgetting to say something. . .

#requests #gn!mc #mammon #satan #asmodeus #belphegor #solomon #obey me short fic #obey me #obey me mammon #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me belphegor #obey me solomon #oh and enjoy a new OC. . .don't let me bring him back unless y'all have a teacher kink or something...

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jessamine-rose · 2 months

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˖⋆˚♱ଘ Angel’s Tears ଓ♱˚⋆˖

*cries* I thought I was done with Church AU after Priest! Dottore yet here I am with more unholy ideas. Welp, Guardian Angel! Capitano x Nonbeliever! Darling, here we go (；ω；)

Tw:: yandere, psychological trauma, blood, violence, death, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 3.8k words under the cut ♡

♡ From the moment of their creation, angels are classified into the Nine Orders. This hierarchy determines their role in Heaven and Earth, with higher ranks assigned greater levels of power and authority. A special exception is The Strongest Angel, an individual who is neither a seraph nor an angel from the First Sphere. Rather, the moniker belongs to Il Capitano, the leader of the Powers.

♡ The legitimacy of his title has never been questioned. As a warrior angel, Capitano’s purpose is to vanquish evil. He is the chivalrous knight in bloodstained armor, the nigh-invincible being who strikes fear into the hearts of demons, the ever-righteous angel bound by a paradoxical duty to partake in violence for the sake of everlasting peace.

♡ It is in a small town in Mondstadt, following his victory over a legion of demons, that Capitano encounters you. It is the hour of mass yet you are nowhere near the Church; rather, you have taken sanctuary in a secluded meadow. A book sits on your lap, not a religious text but a tale of dark fantasy. There is a saintlike quality to your countenance, an air of melancholy as delicate as the flowers which surround you.

✿ ⚘

The moment Capitano appears before you, all peace leaves the meadow.

No, this isn’t right. It is normal for humans to feel fear in the divine presence of angels, yet he is donning his human guise. Nonetheless, as soon as his shadow touches your form, you look up and suppress a shriek, your face losing its veil of apathy.

So what exactly did he do wrong?

For your benefit, he remains rooted to his spot. Clarity comes in the form of your gaze flitting to your book, its title printed on the cover in conspicuous letters, the whispers which leave trembling lips.

“I…I can explain! This book—it’s just fiction! There are no real curses or spells inscribed in the text; it doesn’t promote any form of blasphemy!”

Ah, now he understands. You weren’t afraid of him.

Carefully, Capitano takes a step forward and raises his hand in a calming gesture. A gentle expression adorns his false face.

“Be not afraid.”

✿ ⚘

♡ It doesn’t take long for him to understand your wariness. A glimpse into your soul, paired with your quiet explanation, tells the story of an orphan raised by the Church. Only, your Church is one of many founded on distorted beliefs, of violence preached in the name of a cruel god. As a result, your upbringing was marked by strict rules, corporal punishments, and sermons which painted the image of a hopeless child with a weakness for temptation.

♡ Knowing this, Capitano can’t fault you for forsaking God and your Church. Still in his human guise, he promises his silence and leaves the meadow. But once he returns to Heaven, his first course of action is to apply for a position as your guardian angel. It is an easy process—while that role is typically reserved for the lower ranks, there is no shortage of humans in need of spiritual guidance and protection. He only questions why an angel wasn’t assigned to you when you were in greatest need of one.

♡ Henceforth, Capitano becomes a recurring character in your life. Every week, he visits you in the meadow. When you ask for his identity, he claims to be a progressive believer from another town. But rather than enlighten you with the true Word of God, he simply keeps you company and indulges your “vices,” leading to hours spent reading together. Beyond those meetings, he also watches over you to ward off any demons or humans seeking to harm you.

♡ From your end, you slowly warm up to your mysterious companion. He is a man of few words, but his actions always convey a sense of kindness. And despite his faith, he genuinely respects your beliefs and accepts you as you are. At one point, he even gives you a special gift, a quill pen of exceptional quality. The feather, pure white with a soft radiance, must have been sourced from a rare bird of prey.

♡ Over time, however, something changes. Capitano can’t deny that the faults lies with him. His visits, his constant thoughts of you, the ever-blurring line between want and duty…nothing of his behavior can be attributed to an angel’s inherent love for humanity. If that were the case, his love wouldn’t beget heartache. His love wouldn’t beget the temptation to harm others, rooted not in the name of justice but for your own safety. His love wouldn’t beget lust, guilt, dishonor, desires so sinfully evocative of his own infallibility.

♡ The truth is, you were never in need of spiritual salvation. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, what Capitano saw was a pure soul—a good person unlikely to commit evil nor fall into true temptation. Moreover, he knows that your sin of disbelief is forgivable unlike your Church’s sins of violence. That so long as you remain as you are, your soul will not be denied paradise, albeit in a realm of Heaven beyond Capitano’s jurisdiction. So why is he incapable of leaving your side?

✿ ⚘

“I had a long, long dream. I dreamed that you and I met again in the pure white world that we created.”

As you read the final line, your gaze leaves the book and returns to Capitano.

“What did you think of the story?”

Your shoulder brushes against his own, a tempting sensation. It is all he can do to remain still, to think against seeking out more of your touch, to remind himself that your close proximity is a mere necessity for your current activity.

The left side of the book, bearing the story’s ending, rests in your left hand. The other side is held in Capitano’s right hand, a blank page devoid of hope for a happy ending. When he turns the page, you seamlessly catch it under your thumb to show the next page.

Who knew of the casual intimacies imbued in the act of reading together?

“It was a well-written novel,” he says simply. “Though her sins tarnished her honor, Rosalyne’s sacrifice was an act of love. Her loss did not hinder her faithfulness to Rostam.”

“I feel the same way,” you muse. “Now I understand why this book was banned centuries ago. Forbidden love between angels and humans…it certainly goes against what the Church taught us about angels. I have to give the author credit for their imagination.”

It’s just the two of you again, this time in the library. At the start of winter, you invited Capitano to your workplace. There, in your greatest show of trust, you brought him to a secret room dedicated to texts banned by the Church for promoting “blasphemy.” Fantasy, erotica, anti-Church publications, first editions of censored books, stories which merely deviated from the Church’s popular depictions of spiritual beings.

Molten Moment belongs to the last category. Little do you know that it was based on a true story, that the author had really formed a pact with a demon called La Signora. Capitano himself is mentioned in the story under his true name.

He was one of the few angels who noticed the changes in Rosalyne’s behavior. She was once an ophanim, an angel with no connection to Earth nor humanity. Yet by some twist of fate, she laid eyes on a brave knight from Mondstadt and began to meet him in her human guise.

He was the first to hear of Rosalyne’s sin, that being she saved Rostam’s life during a battle. It was a direct violation of God’s orders: Angels and demons may influence humans, but they are forbidden from directly altering a human’s lifespan.

He was a silent witness to Rosalyne’s descent. She fell from Heaven, burned by her own flames, yet she had never appeared more ecstatic. In the following years, she married Rostam and lived a happy life with him on Earth.

He was the last to recognize Rostam’s soul at the pearly gates, forever separated from his fallen lover. Such had been Rosalyne’s divine punishment, worsened by her knowledge of this possibility. But what else was she to do? To let Rostam know of her true nature? To drag his soul down to Hell, where he’d be subjected to an eternity of undeserved suffering?

Capitano is no fool. As he read Molten Moment, he began to understand Rosalyne’s sin in a new light. Half the time, he couldn’t even concentrate on the text, his human eyes repeatedly drifting to your intense reading expression.

He closes the book, leaving it in your sole grasp. But before he can stand up from the sofa, you scoot closer and lean your weight on him. The book is placed on a nearby table, forgotten.

“Do you mind?” you whisper. Your right hand, empty since the prologue, traces his left hand.

A moment of silence precedes his response. “You may.”

Wordlessly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. A gesture of intimacy, an unspoken confession. Yet as he savors your touch, Capitano wonders if you would harbor the same level of comfort around his true form.

He doubts it. As a Power, he bears an inhuman appearance on par with that of his superiors. It is his true image which has earned him the title of monster by witnessing humans.

Still, he allows himself to indulge in the blessing that is your oblivion. When you look into his two human eyes, there is a soft light in your gaze wholly free of fear.

“Spring is coming soon,” you mutter. “I can’t wait to see the flowers again. Come to think of it, there’s a variety of narcissus which grows only in late spring. It’s very pretty.”

Against his better judgment, Capitano strengthens his grip on your hand. “Shall I take it as an invitation to resume our meetings in the meadow?”

“Sure.” That is when you look up, a small smile adorning your face. “And if you can’t visit for whatever reason, I’ll pick a bouquet and preserve it for you.”

For once, Capitano is rendered speechless.

Rarely do you ever smile. Even to him, you retain your listless disposition—whether it is out of habit or lingering distance, he has yet to discern your reasons. But that is what makes it all the more special, those few instances when he is beholden to your expressions.

He wonders if this is what humans feel in the divine presence of angels, when they are borne witness to all things holy and beautiful.

Your smile is a phenomenon reserved only for the worthiest of souls. And in your grace, he has never felt more undeserving.

✿ ⚘

♡ At the end of winter, a religious war is authorized by the Church of Mondstadt. Shortly after the news reaches your town, Capitano informs you that he will be busy with “work.” He says it during another reading date, featuring Heart of Clear Springs. Before leaving, he kisses your hand and gives you a kind smile. There is a sad look in his eyes, but you don’t inquire further.

♡ In late spring, your town is attacked. With the entire area under fire, from your home to the meadow, you find yourself running back to the sacred building which you’d avoided for years. After all, though the enemy soldiers belong to a different denomination, they still worship the same god as you. In the present, the church is the only place on Earth where you can claim asylum and pray for your survival.

♡ Except every entrance is locked, including the doors to the orphanage. As the army reaches the town square, all you can do is bang on the front doors and beg to be let in. From inside, you can hear the voices of the people that luckily attended mass before the invasion. Some tell you to hide elsewhere, others beg you for forgiveness, a few sound like the nuns and caretakers who tormented you in the past.

♡ Before you can think of another sanctuary, a soldier strikes you. Pain…it has never felt more intense. Through your fading consciousness, you register your body falling and your head hitting the concrete. Blood pools from your forehead and trickles down the steps of the church, tainting it red.

♡ Life flashes before your eyes in a blurry sequence. The static images of God, sermons and bruises, unanswered prayers, people who never believed you or simply didn’t care. A birthday celebrated with your departure from the Church. Sanctuary found in the library followed by the meadow. Yet the numbness remained, each day bleeding into the next in a gloomy haze. In all those years, did you ever feel God’s love?

♡ It doesn’t matter at this point. A small part of you wonders if you should have retained your faith, continued your prayers, sought out salvation in the safety of your solitude. At least then, at the hour of your death, you wouldn’t be confronted with the fact of your humanity. The primal fear of death, the spiritual fear of ending up in Hell no matter Capitano’s reassurances.

♡ Capitano…where is he? Weakly, you call out to him but he doesn’t appear. Of course, why would he? You should feel thankful; it means he is probably safe, wherever he is. Still, you can’t help but wish he were here—if not to save you, as he has done by simply keeping you company, but to comfort you one last time. And those are the thoughts which plague you in your final moments, an unheard prayer on the tip of your tongue.

“I pray that we meet again, myself and the first person who truly loved me.”

♡ ______ died on a cloudy day, one of many people persecuted in the name of God. After the Church was destroyed and its followers slaughtered, their body was buried in a mass grave that once flourished with nature. There was a poignant quality to their countenance, an air of distress as transient as the flowers planted above them.

♡ At least, that is how your story ends from the perspectives of the survivors. But to the angels and demons who witnessed the destruction of your town, your death was only the end of a chapter in your life. In their eyes, Capitano had been present all throughout, an invisible witness to your death, absolute in his refusal to perform an unauthorized miracle.

♡ He remained by your side until the light faded from your eyes. That was when he took notice of the bouquet of narcissus clutched in your hand, tainted with blood despite your feeble efforts to save his gift. A soldier approached your corpse, intending to drag it down the steps for burial; but before they could touch you, Capitano appeared before them.

♡ It was only for a brief second, but the soldier drew back and cowered in fear. In the following days, they were haunted by the memory of the angelic figure who appeared outside the Church of Mondstadt. Or more precisely, the monster who prayed over a bloodstained corpse and took a bouquet of ruined flowers out of their grasp.

✿ ⚘

From the moment you wake up, all peace leaves the meadow.

What happened? Your memory comes back in hazy fragments—death, darkness, blinding light, pearly gates, ethereal figures. Most vivid is the sensation of strong arms and soft feathers, a familiar warmth which accompanied you throughout your journey.

As for your current surroundings, you are in a meadow so beautiful that it brings to mind the Garden of Eden. Flowers of every variety bloom across the scenery, some out of season. The sky is bright, sunless, a canvas of multiple colors. There are no other signs of life.

Internally, too, something feels off. A nearby pond provides a glimpse of your reflection—white garments, gold scars in place of your fatal injuries, your disoriented countenance. If this place is what you think it is…shouldn’t you feel at peace, happy even? And why are you alone?

Your gaze lands on a patch of flowers. Pure white, perianth petals, cup-shaped coronas…the same type of narcissus which grew in your favorite meadow. The flowers point in different directions, as though searching for a sun that does not exist.

“You are awake.”

A shadow touches your form, engulfing you in darkness. It bears a large, unrecognizable shape but such details escape you as you recognize the voice behind you.

“Capitano!” Immediately, you turn around, only to gasp and suppress a scream.

The person before you…can you even call him human? He is incredibly tall, to the point that you must crane your neck to see his face—assuming there is one beneath his iron mask. His body is clad in silver armor, stained blood in some places. A halo, shaped like a crown of thorns, shines behind his head.

But what shocks you are his wings. A single pair covered in radiant white feathers and eerily dark blue eyes. Each eye seems to glow with an uncanny aura.

Dark blue eyes with a striking resemblance to Capitano’s. What more for his long black hair and his solemn manner of speaking?

It doesn’t make your revelation any less unsettling.

“Capitano.” Your voice comes out in a nervous whisper. “Is it really you? You’re a…”

“An angel,” he confesses. He takes a step back, widening the distance between your bodies. “I ask that you pardon my appearance. Such was my sacrifice—for my true form, in all of its monstrosity, to be my sole image.”

His human face comes to mind, along with the kind gaze you fell in love with.

You feel the weight of multiple gazes on you. “What do you mean?”

“Is this realm to your satisfaction?” he asks. “I beseeched God to create a special paradise for you, cut off from the rest of Heaven. The price is that your capacity to feel negative emotions remains in this realm…though that is preferable.”

Preferable? How so? Right now, you can barely process what he is telling you. You are dead. Your companion is an angel. Your soul is in paradise, but not exactly.

After everything you’ve been through, you were still deemed worthy of a place in Heaven.

“I am sorry.”

Capitano’s voice brings you back to reality. He has never sounded more serious, emotional, repentant. And when you look up…

Is he crying?

Most of his eyes remain open, focusing on you with a fervent stare. But others are downcast, as if unable to face you. And a few appear glossy, blinking back iridescent tears.

“I am truly sorry.” He bows his head in shame, wings folded. “What I did to you was cruel, an absolute injustice.”

You don’t know which eyes to make contact with. “You—”

“It must have been painful,” he continues. “Even if I were to justify my actions, the truth lies in the fact that I tolerated your suffering for my own selfish desires. And that is why I ask not for your forgiveness, knowing I am the one at fault.”

Silence. In light of Capitano’s confession, all you can do is stare at him and comprehend the weight of your situation. What exactly are you supposed to feel, knowing his betrayal? Knowing that regardless of your feelings, you have nowhere else to go in the afterlife?

Yet despite it all, your prayer came true. The two of you were able to meet again.

And that is what compels you to take a step forward, to come closer until you are standing in front of him. “Hey, it’s…don’t cry.”

A delicate sensation blesses his wings—your hands carefully tracing his feathers to wipe away his tears. Several eyes widen in surprise, but all he can see in your gaze is sympathy.

“I’ll admit, it was painful,” you tell him. “Dying alone. But maybe it’s…better this way. If I survived, I’d have to deal with the loss of my home. And who knows what kind of living hell the other Church would’ve put me through?”

Above all, Capitano is the only person whose love you can believe in.

Hesitantly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. The next words to leave your lips are spoken with certainty, bringing fresh tears to his eyes.

“I’m sure it was an act of love on your part.”

His reaction is sudden, incurring your surprise. But all you can do is surrender to Capitano’s embrace, allow his free arm to hold your waist and pull you closer to him. His wings wrap around you, caging you in soft feathers and eerie blue orbs.

“Capitano?” You can only look up at him, peering into the contents of his mask.

…It’s like staring into an abyss, a night sky dotted with twinkling blue stars. But in the absence of a human likeness, his words express what a face cannot.

“Never again,” he vows, “shall I allow harm to befall you. That is a promise.”

The hand on your waist moves upwards to caress your face. His touch is light, more hesitant than his previous gestures.

“You need not serve God nor partake in fruitful labor like the other souls in Heaven. All I ask is that you rest, indulge yourself, enjoy this paradise to the fullest.”

A flower is pinned to his armor, right above his heart. You recognize it instantly—a narcissus in full bloom, stained with your blood.

“If you desire a flower, it shall grow at once. If there are any books you would like to read, they shall be brought to you shortly.”

What was the name of that variety again? Narcissus triandrus. Angel’s tears.

“If you are in need of my presence, I shall appear before you, so long as I am not in the midst of battle. And should you ever desire the opposite, I can promise my distance.”

When Capitano looks into your eyes, all he can see is his own reflection. Whatever emotion colors your gaze, it casts his true image in a compassionate light.

“I shall do everything in my power to bring you joy for all of eternity. Such will be my penance.”

“...All right.” With that, you close your eyes and lean into his touch. He feels warm, comfortingly familiar. “I’ll trust you on that.”

Rest in peace, ______.

Think not of your mortal body in the beginning stages of decay.

Think not of your tormentors who are paying for their sins in Hell.

Think only of eternity with your beloved savior.

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Arlecchino

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.

Aahhhh it's done....this idea turned out much heavier than expected, but I'm glad that I was able to write this!! I hope you all cried over enjoyed the story of Angel! Capitano and his damsel. They were truly a delight to write for~

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @diodellet @navxry @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @harmonysanreads @mochinon-yah @oofasleep @micchikari @whispereons @thescribeoflostmemories

#il capitano #capitano #capitano x reader #yandere capitano x reader #yandere capitano #fatui x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #tw: yandere #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #mdni #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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dearestro · 2 months

Text

Knight in Plaid Boxers

Summary: James will always be there to save you from danger...big or small.

Warnings: Innuendos and crude language.

Wilson's Pov

I woke up upon hearing a scream.

"James, help!" Recognizing my wife's voice and the empty space next to me, I quickly got up, fearing the worse.

"Shit, shit! Where is it?" I whispered to myself as I searched through the closet looking for the baseball bat she had insisted on keeping 'just in case'. Finally finding it, I armed myself and ran out to the kitchen screaming. Not the smartest idea, but continuing to hear my wife's screams of fear I only had one thought: to scare the intruder. I reached the kitchen and swung blindly, still screaming and shouting only to be met with my wife's voice.

"What the hell are you doing?" I opened my eyes to see her standing on the counter, totally unharmed.

"I-I heard you screaming? I thought- I thought you were being hurt?" I asked as I tried to catch my breath, very confused with the situation. She looked at me like I was insane.

"Yeah, because of the spider!" She pointed to the floor. My eyes followed her finger to see the remains of a mug and a spider crawling around. My hands fell to my side, and I dropped the bat in disbelief.

"What?" I looked at her incredulously.

"Babe, kill the freaking spider!" She continued to point before shrieking when it started towards her. I rubbed my hand over my face and sighed before carefully kneeling beside the broken glass and picking it up.

“It’s only a daddy long leg. You know, I don’t think they’re even classified as spiders.” I picked it up and laughed, seeing how small it was. I started to walk closer to her to show her, but she screamed and pushed her back against the cupboard.

“James Evan Wilson! So help me! If you come any closer I-I…I’ll withhold sex for a month!” I stopped and frowned at her threat before looking back at the ‘spider’ struggling in my fingers.

“Sorry buddy. You heard the lady. It’s either you or me, and well…I’m sure there’s plenty of lady spiders outside.” I opened the sliding glass door and threw him out before coming back to my wife’s aide. “Will you come down now? As much as I enjoy the view, I don’t want you to get hurt.” I approached her as she nodded. I was careful to avoid the broken shards of glass on the floor.

Once I got to her side, I picked her up bridal style.

“My beautiful damsel in distress.” I rolled my eyes and kissed her cheek, and she snuggled closer.

“My handsome knight in plaid boxers.” She laid her hand on my cheek and stroked her thumb on my under eye. I smiled at her. She’s a handful, but she’s mine.

“You know usually the hero gets a reward for saving the princess…” I smirked at her.

“And what…reward…do you have in mind?” Her eyebrow raised even though she clearly knew what I had in mind. I kissed her as I took her out of the kitchen before wiggling my eyebrows at her suggestively. She laughed. "What about the broken mug?" I shrugged.

"We'll deal with it tomorrow."

"What if Sara hurts herself?" We entered the bedroom.

"She's a cat, I'm sure she'll be fine." I said sarcastically while rolling my eyes, I could tell her worry was just a way of teasing me. I set her on her side of the bed before going over to my own. She smirked up at me.

"Alright, if you insist." She feigned disinterest. I smiled before jumping onto the bed and attacking her neck and face with my lips. We continued making out for a little as things got more heated until Sara jumped up onto the bed and tried to wiggle between us. Suddenly, she pulled back. I tried to capture her lips again, but she put her hand on my chest. "As much as I love you and enjoy this babe, I'm not doing 'it' in front of the cat." I frowned, looking at the cat, who was now curled up on the bed sleeping.

"I can kick her out." I said a little too desperately. She shook her head.

"It’s like two in the morning. You have to get up for work tomorrow, sweetheart." She said before leaning over and kissing me. "Goodnight. I love you." And with that, she laid down and went to bed. I groaned and glared at Sara.

"Damn cat." I mumbled before laying down and turning to my side. I was still...calming down when I felt an arm wrap around me. I smiled.

This was nice, too.

Author's Note: I'm working on the requests! This was just a small/easy idea I had in my notes that I thought I could publish as a filler.

Also, is this any good, or is it like weird? idk I'm always worried when I write in his pov and the entire thing is in it.

P.S.

When writing this, I imagined the mug to be one that House got them for their wedding that just has his face on it. I don't know. OH! And when he ran out with the bat, he was in his McGill sweatshirt and plaid boxers with white socks. Again, just the image I had when writing, lol.

#dr wilson x reader #dr wilson x you #james wilson x reader #james wilson x you #fanfic #fanfiction #james wilson #james wilson fanfiction #james wilson x y/n #rsl #robert sean leonard

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dyinglikenarcissus · 8 months

Text

Stripped Naked

Part II

Warnings: 18+ only! Contains: Virgin reader, stripping, alcohol, vaginal intercourse, a couple consenting adults having a good time. It’s pretty vanilla but sometimes all you want is vanilla

You turn several times in your full length mirror to look at your outfit. Does this shirt look okay? It’s not too revealing, is it?…Is it revealing enough? Ugh! This is impossible! You’re so excited yet terrified. He’d be here any moment and you honestly can’t stop shaking.

Do you need a jacket? Or do you not want to bring a jacket so he’ll give you his jacket if you get cold? You can’t wait to steal his giant sweaters. You moan softly at the idea. Getting to cuddle in it while watching movies on his couch. Then making out on his couch. Then maybe fucking on his couch?

You cover your face in embarrassment.

That’s not going to happen. Well, it should happen. But not now! Eventually. It should hopefully happen…one day…

A knock at your door pulls you from your thoughts.

He’s here!

You grab your purse and race down the hall. Wait! You stop halfway to the door and take a deep breath. You don’t want to look frantic. You’re cool. You’re calm. You’re collected. You’re just going on a date with a gorgeous blond. No big deal.

You squeal quietly and recompose yourself to answer the door.

“There’s my sunshine girl,” Steve grins so brightly and holds out his arms for you. You happily fall into them. He’s so warm and big and perfect. “You ready for this?”

“I have no idea. Am I?” you laugh. He refused to tell you anything about this date. He told you to wear something cute but comfortable, something you can stretch in. It was an odd and vague request. But I’m sure you always look cute 😉 he finished and you remember your face heating beyond your control as you read that message. You didn’t know what classified as cute but comfortable but you know you look cute. You just don’t know if he’s going to ask you to scale a building or play basketball or just sit in the grass. So you hoped leggings and bralette top would work.

“You look don’t look cute at all,” he frowns tapping a bouquet of sunflowers against his palm. “You look far too sexy to be comfortable.” You giggle and shake your head at him. “I brought these for you but you don’t seem capable of following such a simple order of cute but comfortable.”

“Steve!”

“That’s ‘sir’ to you, little miss. Can you do squats in those?”

“Yes,” you laugh. “They’re leggings.”

“Show me.”

“You can’t be serious,” you sigh with an eye roll.

“That was an order.” He points at you and ticks his finger down then back up.

You give him a look and place your purse on the table by the door. “Fine,” you mutter.

Steve grabs your chin and forces your gaze back up to him. “‘Fine’ what?”

“Fine. Sir,” you smirk and turn away from him. And drop into a squat for him and rock your hips just like Megan thee Stallion taught you.

“Shit,” Steve breathes.

“That good?” You ask glancing over your shoulder before adding a quick, “Sir.”

“That’s perfect,” Steve sighs as you stand up. “You sure you don’t want to dance?” You laugh and shake your head. “Acts so shy but I see you. I’ll have you stripping for me one day.”

“Steve!” You shriek in embarrassment.

“Either way, sunshine, these are for you,” he grins and holds out the bouquet for you.

“They’re beautiful,” you smile. “Let me put them in some water. Come in.” You turn toward the kitchen and Steve follows you. “So, are you going to tell me what we’re doing today?”

“Do you know what the word ‘surprise’ means?” He smirks leaning over your kitchen bar.

“Touché, Mr. America,” you smile. “I just want to know if I’m physically ready for whatever you have in store.”

He just gives you a mischievous smile while strumming his fingers against the granite countertop.

“Alright. I’m just going to trust you,” you concede and place your new dining table center piece in it’s new home.

“Something you should’ve started doing weeks ago.”

You give the flowers one last smell before taking Steve’s hand.

Steve’s got the motorcycle again which means you get to snuggle against his back while you ride to where ever your destination is. You barely take in your surroundings as you breathe in his cologne. He’s smells so fresh yet dangerous. Like flowers and cinnamon. You wish you could bathe in him.

“Comfortable back there?” Steve asks when he stops at a light.

“Yeah,” you sigh squeezing his middle a little tighter and earning a chuckle from the blond.

“Super hero training?” You ask as he stops at his destination and takes your borrowed helmet.

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted to do this but the guys say it’s something you do with a girl so now I’ve got a girl,” Steve explains, holding out his hand to help you off the bike.

You cover your mouth to stifle a laugh. “You’re not gonna believe this.”

“What? You’ve been here?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to come, too, but my friends aren’t very…athletically inclined.” Steve grins at the revelation and tugs you into the giant gym of a building.

The instructor run through the rules and hands you both masks and badges leaving you for a moment to choose your hero names.

“What are you gonna be?” Steve asks adjusting your mask for you before snapping a selfie.

“I don’t know. You pick,” You smile making a heart with your fingers for his picture.

“This is a big moment! Like picking a stage name and you’re just going to leave it to me?” You nod smiling at how serious he is about this. “How about ‘Cutie with a Bootie’?” You smack his shoulder softly making him chuckle. “Okay. What about ‘Captain Sunshine’? Because you’re my sunshine,” Steve grins and rubs the tip of his nose to yours. You can’t say no to that. You write it in cursive on your name tag. “Your hand writing is so nice. Do mine, too!”

“Yes, sir,” you smile and take his name tag. “What will we call you?”

“Anything but Captain America,” he groans.

“You said it’s like your stage name. It has to be Captain America!” You insist. He just groans and rolls his eyes as you scribe his stage name on the name tag.

The training is so much fun. You were glad they didn’t take themselves too seriously. It was all simulated building scaling and choreographed fights. Steve was very good at those but you accidentally punched him in the stomach. He didn’t seem very phased by it though. You on the other hand excelled at balancing on ‘roof tops’ and using ‘clothes lines’ as tight ropes. All in all, the two of you would probably make mediocre super heroes but you’d have fun doing it.

You fall in a heap on top of Steve after climbing a ‘three story building’ only to fight off ‘aliens’ and rescue a ‘child’ before the building ‘exploded’ in five minutes. The building being a false rock wall, the aliens being one of the other instructors and the child being a stuffed bear. They did have some cool lighting effects for the ‘explosion’. It was all so silly but the two of you enjoyed it far more than any two tax paying adults should.

“I think I’ve successfully worked up an appetite,” Steve sighs holding you against him, his fingers trailing down your arm to tangle in yours. You nod in agreement and attempt to roll off of him but his hold on you is firm. “I like having you here.”

“But we’re out in public,” your whisper eyes widening as you attempt to press away once more.

“I don’t care.” You squirm against him, feeling every bit of discomfort you can possibly manage at this point. Everyone must be staring at you. “Am I embarrassing you?” He asks in an amused tone, letting up just a little to meet your gaze.

Your eyes scan the room but no one even seems to be paying attention to you and the tall blond. Oh.

“No,” you mutter. “I guess not.”

“Then let me snuggle with you,” he insists, squeezing his arms around your waist a little tighter.

He looks like an angel with that beautiful hair mused atop his head and the gym lights seem to hit him perfectly.

“Okay.”

“Okay,” Steve grins and pulls you back down against him. “You’re so soft and huggable. I can’t wait to get you in my bed.”

“Steve!” You gasp pushing away once more.

“Not now! Just one day,” he insists pulling you tighter as you attempt to claw away from him like a cat. “My goodness, you’re feisty when you’re embarrassed,” he laughs and you can’t stop the smile from spreading on your face at the sound.

He has a beautiful laugh.

You sit up slightly to watch his smile. So beautiful. “Steve, I had a lot of fun today.”

“I did, too. Thank you for coming with me,” he mutters.

“Thank you for inviting me,” you smile, glancing quickly at his lips before meeting his ocean gaze.

He focuses down on yours for a moment as his hands massage your lower back. “You know, you owe me a kiss.”

“Are you claiming your winnings?”

“Yeah, I think I am,” his tongue darts out to moisten his lips. You place your hands on his chest before taking a deep breath. You haven’t done this in a long time. But it’s like riding a bike, right? You don’t forget.

You lean up and tilt your head slightly, his hand finds the back of your neck pushing you just enough to meet his lips. Oooooh. A soft whine escapes your lips as Steve massages the base of your scalp while gripping your waist a little tighter. It feels so right and perfect. You don’t ever want him to let you go. You could get lost in his plush lips. You grip his shirt as your knees straddle his hips and he pulls you so close you feel you might meld into him.

Then someone clears their throat.

“Um, guys. Our next group is coming in and we have to clean up.” You’re instantly on your feet at the instructor’s words mumbling how sorry you are and tugging Steve along.

He just laughs and sends the instructor a quick smirk. “Can you blame me?” He chuckles gesturing to you as you rush to the door in a panic. “God, that ass doesn’t quit.”

“Sir, we’re not really supposed to comment on anyone’s assets,” the instructor sighs.

“Right. I better go catch her.”

You literally hide behind the menu the waiter places at your table as if the staff from the gym will follow you here.

“Hey,” Steve says tentatively peaking around your menu fort. “Are you still-”

“Yes!” You squeak pulling the menu tighter around you and effectively blocking him out.

“Oh, my little sunshine. It was just a kiss. I’m sure they’ve seen people kiss before.” You just whine softly and attempt to disappear. You hear a soft sigh from Steve before the sound of a near by chair scrapes the concrete. It’s so nice out, Steve decided on an outdoor table at a cafe in the shopping center. You were too busy hiding yourself in his shirt to really notice.

You almost jump when something bumps your chair but it’s just your blond date. “What am I going to do with you?” He asks as he presses his chair as close to yours as possible before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“Just let me die,” you whimper.

“Nah, I’d miss you too much.” He kisses your hair and tilts the menu back so he can look at it as well. “Have you actually looked at the menu or are you planning your escape from me?”

You glance up at him in shock. “I don’t want to escape you.”

“You certainly are acting like it,” he sighs.

“No! You’re perfect! I’m just a nervous wreck when it comes to…this.” You point between the two of you.

“Do you want to slow down?” Steve asks, massaging the back of your neck with his strong fingers.

You relax slightly under his touch and finally release the death grip you were holding on your menu. “No, I like you. Like, a lot. I’m just not good with…public displays of affection.”

“Is that all?” Steve asks, twirling a curl in his fingers.

“I think so…” You whisper.

“What else is wrong?” He pries. You stare at a word on the menu intently but you can’t read it. You can barely voice your problem without thinking you sound like a child. He won’t want anything to do with you.

Steve’s grip tightens on the base of your skull and directs your gaze up at him. “Talk to me. Please. Let me in. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

But there’s nothing to fix, is there? Maybe there is…

“I-I’m, I’m a,” you take a deep breath and force your head from his grip. You can’t even look at him. “I’m a virgin,” you finally whisper.

“A what?” Steve gawks in disbelief. “No! There’s no way. Here? In America?” He almost laughs at the audacity of the situation but remembers your embarrassment and reigns in his excitement.

“I know. I’m such a baby. I can understand if you don’t want anything to do with me. The night we met was actually the first time I’d ever seen a real life man naked and-“ Steve presses his lips to yours to stop your rant. You startle at first but quickly relax into him.

“That explains so much,” Steve chuckles after he pulls away.

“It does?” You whisper.

He just nods and presses another kiss to the tip of your nose. “I don’t care if you’ve had sex or not. I still like you. I don’t want you to go anywhere. And I don’t want you to feel pressured into having sex with me either.”

“No! I want to have sex with you! Oh my God, that was kinda loud,” you cringe making Steve smile. “I want to,” you insist at a much lower volume. “I’m just a little scared.”

“And that is perfectly normal,” Steve assures you and presses a kiss to your temple. It is? “I was horrified my first time,” he sighs. “I want to go at your pace. You set the rules here.”

“Oh, no. You don’t want me making rules. We’ll never get anywhere.”

“I do. Because I want you comfortable with me.” You look up at him, meeting the ocean gaze once more before pressing up to press a kiss to his lips. “I hope that means you’re comfortable enough to order some food,” he grins making you smile.

He is perfect, isn’t he?

Part I | Part III | Master List

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #steve rogers fanfic

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changingplumbob · 2 months

Text

I tried For Rent out, sorry if I'm late to the info party

Results and occurances below

I launched my photography save successfully... Next step, completely new save on a rental unit in Tomarang. The heck is Onboarding and why does it apply to this scenario????

Wait... there's only two rental units available in Tomarang? And the 2 bedroom has mold and spooky??? Yes I need a 2 bedroom because I'm also checking if the system can handle an infant on lot and if I can figure out water births because lat time I tried the midwife would not arrive.

Okay it handled me going in and out of cas, and switching to my internet browser a couple of times... I went into BB mode and changed the second bedroom. Game seems unfazed so far. I have played on fast speed here and there. Successfully traveled worlds.

New day new loading. A patch of mold showed up in this allegedly moldy residential rental. Time to investigate options! Can't call the landlord about it? Let's try calling and inviting the property owner to visit, see how they react to the mold.

Clicked invite in and... they're not coming inside. Mate you can't see the mold outside! Okay I found the ask to inspect menu... and the mold is not classified as an object, hmm. Alright let's walk past the mold to get to the couch, no reaction from landlord except to say its dust free?

Let's try complain about rental conditions, maybe he'll go deal with the mold? Oop, nope. He just dislikes us a little now. Time to have the pregnant sim clean the mold in front of him, will he react?

Na it's fine mate, you just chill and do nothing. This must be great for the fetus. I'll go get the husband to stop jogging. Well I cancelled the action but he's still jogging away... Now he's stopped. Back home, has he picked a great angle for TV viewing or what?

Second ob visit, we're expecting twin boys. Time to go visit the tiger sanctuary! Oh wait... no, you're kidding! The wife can't queue up a visit because the husband is inside? Are you serious right now? We can't visit as groups???

Back to waiting for the outdoor lights. Seriously outdoor light not properly illuminating is a pet peeve of mine. If they could make these ones work, why not make all outdoor lights turn on at the proper dusky time? The York's patio would like a word!

So we introduced ourselves to the neighbours and now they're crowding up our lounge... I didn't actually invite you in from the shared area! Now we're off to the ob for the final visit and they're still there!

Middle of the night, after poor husband got attacked by Vlad as if he doesn't have two infants on the way, explosive malfunction! Will the property owner come at 2:30 am? He will!

Oh dear, it's a crush because we ushered him inside wearing just our boxers isn't it? Uh, sir, the trash is not the problem! I asked you to go check the stove! Both sims have now asked him to check it. He decides he would rather do push ups in the rain. Y'all I closed for lunch and I'm back and FIRE TRAP! Do I dare press play?

I thought the property owner was finally fixing but he's standing by the stove complaining that it's broken instead... Now he's washing his hands?

WE LIVE IN THE SAME BUILDING but why not bless other sims with incoming infant shrieks?

I eventually selected to replace the stove, there was no repair option. It cost 1050 simoleons and the property owner gave us... 143 simoleons to cover it... But at least I can watch the neighbours walk from their door to mine with suitcases. Still waiting on the dilation and the stayover guests have got into a brawl with each other... It was the father and son in law. Oh and now the girl is jumping in trash...

Note to self, water birth involves midwife and not partner. Might use it for single sims but probably not my couples. Twins are born and I can cautiously say that For Rent doesn't appear to be glitching at the moment. Don't invite this family to stay over though, the unit now has four piles of trash from their antics.

#ramble ramble ramble #I went on a journey I tell you #Also are safety masks going to invade my game now

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drawingducktalesducks · 1 year

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Violet: Webbigail! We require assistance!

Webby: Violet!

Violet: My sister seems to be malfunctioning- she woke up this morning- MORNING. Not afternoon- And she shrieked, and has been staring into space ever since. Do you have any idea what-

Webby: VI WHAT DID YOU DO?!

Violet: I- What?

Webby: I SWEAR if you’ve snuck another piece of cursed junk home when I wasn’t looking, I'm gonna- HRrrk!

Violet: Webbigail does not refer to me as “Vi”. Only Lena does that.

Violet: You… are an imposter.

Webby: I’m awake at stupid seven in the stupid morning, is what I am! Let go!

Violet: …… Lena?

Webby: Now she gets it!

Webby: Webby- Webby, c’mon. It’s weird I know, but we really need your nerd brain and Scrooge-specific trivia, okay?

Lena: eeeeeeee

Webby: Webby?

Lena: aaaaaAAAAAAAAA-

Webby: Pink! Snap out of it!

Violet: Try hugging her.

Webby: And like, what, that’ll swap us back?

Violet: Unlikely, but the shock of being taller than you may restart her systems-

Lena: OH MY GOSH I’M THE TALL ONE NOW???

Violet: -and I am proven correct again, as usual.

Webby: oh I hate this

Lena: Lena! I KNOW I WOKE UP IN YOUR ROOM BUT I DIDN’T READ YOUR DIARY THIS TIME I PROMISE!

Webby: I’m a little more freaked by you being in my BODY, Pink, but great! Thanks!

Webby: wait. this time?

Lena: Yes! Your poetry is LOVELY by the way and I’m definitely not counting the days until you show it to me so I can bask in it during a non-shadow war emergency situation!

Webby: You’ve read my-

Violet: Webbigail, we need to read your journal.

Lena: Okay! Turn around is fair play!

Violet: We are not looking for embarrassing content equal to that of my sister’s poems, which would be hard to come by in any case-

Webby: Hey!

Violet: -instead, we must discover what magical artifacts you have handled recently, as that is the most likely source of my building headache.

Lena: Oh! Headache? I thought it was the mutual possession that was the problem?

Violet: Why do you suppose I have a headache.

Webby: Webby- which poems did you read?

Lena: A pretty one!

Webby: Yeah right but, was it just evil? Or-

Lena: Evil!

Webby: -oh thank duck

Violet: Then you are missing out. Her flowery word choice and dramatic flair are far better utilized when waxing poetic about-

Webby: Don't you dare-

Lena: The cursed crystal of contrived circumstance!

Webby: ...wow, that’s convenient

Violet: Quite.

Lena: No no the runes said “contrived” not “convenient”- It’s something we found on yesterday’s adventure!

Lena: Scrooge thought it might let him pick up random lucky finds of money, like Gladstone does. Only we couldn’t get it to work! It’s still really pretty though, so he let me carry it back home, and keep it on my nightstand…

Violet: And during that time, did you say or think anything relating to exchanging bodies with Lena?

Lena: No!

Lena: We-ll, not her body, anyway.

Webby: You mean we’ve swapped brains?

Lena: I mean I, I was missing you a teensy tiny bit while on the adventure! So I maybe might have been thinking about you… and, wondering about you… and maybe wishing I could know what you’re feeling…

Violet: On which topic?

Lena: CLASSIFIED.

Webby: That's sweet, but you know you can always just ask me how I’m feeling.

Lena: Uh huh, right.

Lena: I mean sure, when you felt like you were morphing into your evil aunt who enslaved and traumatized you for fifteen years, the only words to come out of your mouth were a happy anniversary song to me.

Lena: But yes. Feelings talks. Mm-hmm. Yep. Definitely!

Webby: ..Okay fine, so i'd rather die than talk about feelings. Sue me.

Violet: If I thought doing so would get you into therapy, I assuredly would.

Lena: AND I'D BLACKMAIL THE BEST LAWERS TO... keep you.. out of therapy?

Webby: Aw Pink, you really do care.

Lena: Wait no- I mean yes obviously, but- therapy good- only, hmm, well, if you didn't WANT to go then I guess would still blackmail the lawyers-

Webby: You're so cute

Lena: Um- oh, uh- your welcome! No no, thanks!! NO NOT NO THANKS JUST THANKS NOT WELCOME!!!

Webby: Webby

Lena: YOUR WELCOME TO CALL ME CUTE why am I still talking-!?

Webby: Webby breathe, it's okay. I get it

Lena: oh thank goodness

Violet: Indeed. And now so do I.

Lena: You do?

Violet: Regarding feelings and the point of willingly sharing them, the key process to reversing this situation and easing my cranial spasms has finally become clear.

Lena: It has???

Webby: why are you smirking, Vi.

Violet: I smirk because… Webbigail. You must read Lena’s poems about you.

Webby: SHE WHAT

Lena: HER POEMS ABOUT WHAT???

Webby: No! Nuh-uh! That is SO not happening!

Violet: Then enjoy being shorter than her forever, for I wash my hands of this absurdity.

Webby: No no no no, there’s gotta be another way- VI! Vi get back here and help!

Violet: I have done all that I can…

Webby: HAVE YOU?

Violet: No. But this is more amusing. Farewell.

Webby: VIOLET!

Lena: Lena?

Webby: Y-yeah?

Lena: Is that true? You… you’ve written actual literal poems about… um…

Lena: … me?

Webby:

Webby: So me being the short one. That’s a thing, huh? We could totally get used to this.

#Ducktales (2017)#Violet Sabrewing #Webby Vanderquack #Lena #Weblena #Sabrewing Sisters #incorrect quotes

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silent-browser · 1 year

Text

Playing with so many ideas right now... First up on the "get out of my head" list. Also warning. My writing bad. This is me venting basically. So writing bad.

Child noble reader x yandere child servant

The sun was warm in the garden as the children were let out from their stuffy academy classrooms to roam, play and socialize. Curiousity, energy and connections were important in this life after all. However two children seemed to be standing away from the large cliques that the other children played and laughed in. Sitting in the shade of a very large flowering bush a young girl sits, carefully observing the flowers and the leaves and occasionally looking down at the book that lay in her lap.

"Maybe viburnum..." She ponders softly, looking closely at the illustrations. "Butterfly bush..?"

The other child, a servant who had been deemed ready by the head butler of her household to serve her stands quietly watching her before he finally speaks softly. "It can be what ever flower you wish it to be my lady. Hydrangea, snowball bush, viburnum, butterfly bush. Any of them can be or become what every you wish."

The young noble giggles back a response, "silly, that's impossible. If it's one kind of flower how could it ever become some other kind. That's like saying that a chesnut tree is actually an apple tree" she giggles on at the absurdity of the statement.

"I would do it" the young boy whispered, far too entranced with his master's laughter to ever think of disturbing it. "If only you continue like this for me"

Their peace was soon cut short by alarmed shrieking coming from the other children. Professors urge the children inside, warning of a sudden invasion of bees on the property.

"What is everyone so afraid of?" The young girl huffed to herself, annoyed at the sudden loss of her reading time. "They are only bees. They don't want to hurt anyone."

"Still, they may be dangerous." The boy fretted. Knowing what his precious lady might do if left outside with the insects. "Let's get you inside where you won't-"

"We need bees don't we? At the house?" The girl humed to herself, unknowingly interrupting her companion. "The chef always complains of honey prices right? And keeping bees on our property would make for better, brighter flowers in mothers garden." Nodding with growing excitement she smiles. "Yes, bees would be a fantastic addition to our home. Fetch Cassidy and tell her that I will be bringing along some friends home and to prepare a very large wooden box. I already have a match box that we can keep the queen in. All I need to do is find her!" After giving her orders she hops up and carefully dusts off her dress before clutching the flora book to her chest and rushing off in the direction of the bees.

With exasperation and deep affection the young boy she left standing by the yet-to-be classified flower bush sighs and moves to follow her orders. The master and madem would not be happy with this, he thought, but if it made her happy that is all that ever mattered.

The next day, after a very long trek home and an even longer explanation as to why there was suddenly a box of bees in their home the noble girl was back in school. Proud of her successful relocation of the bee swarm with no stings AND successful convincing of her parents to let her keep them she sat at her homeroom desk and drew. The next task was designing a bee box with removable frames so that they might harvest and profit from the bees and fully impress her parents with her find. As she quietly was drawing up some very crude plans for the bee box she had not noticed the two boys sneaking up behind her desk until they had unceremoniously dumped a sizable spider onto her desk.

"Here," a jeering voice called from behind her, "since you like bugs so much we got you this one."

A second voice mocked "maybe now you will finally have a friend"

As the pair laughed at their prank the girl sat frozen in her seat, staring at the spider as it lay motionless on top of her half drawn and very messy plan. Unable to scream or stand she was forced to sit and watch this large dead spider. She wanted help. She needed help. She doesn't do well around dead things. Even worse if they are some kind of spider or crawly thing. In this moment time froze for her. Her lungs felt as if they were made of lead, her heart racing as though preparing for a life or death fight, her mind blank. Before a hand crashed into view, blocking her direct line of sight with the spider.

"How dare you" a rumbling demand that caused the laughter to stop. "You knew this would scare her. You used it to your advantage. You are supposed to be the best of the best. The smartest, strongest, most clever in all the kingdoms. You are, both of you, acting like common idiots. For scaring a girl. How. Fucking. Dare you."

He was enraged. He wanted to rip their heads off. He wanted to feed these thoughtless insects the spider they were so proud of. He wanted to display their tortured bodies on the flag pole of the school to show any and all those who would ever touch his lady what would happen if they made her upset. She was supposed to be celebrating her victory. Not nearly passing out because of some stupid boys idea of a prank. But as much as he wanted to force them to grovel at her feet his first task and priority was to move her elsewhere so the wretched creature could be taken care of and she would have time alone to breathe. He quickly scooped her up into his arms, taking only a moment to relish the act of protecting her before quickly making his way back to the garden and quietly resting her once more under that flower bush where she finally allows herself to fold into a small ball and weep openly.

Those boys will pay, he thinks. But not right now, right now my duty is to my master. My sweet, thoughtful, beautiful master.

#soft yandere #yandere servant #child reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere child servant #noble reader #noble child reader #princess reader #she heckn loves biology #isekai if you squint

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qqueenofhades · 2 years

Note

Every time I look into the Mar-a-lago raid it just gets worse and worse. Now it's been confirmed that there WERE nuclear documents that Trump took... this is a disaster. Good god. How do you think this will affect our alliances?

It is, by any remotely sane person's metric, indeed a total and complete disaster. I know everyone has become somewhat numb to it -- after all, this is Trump, who has committed so many crimes that when news of the raid first broke, we weren't even sure which one it was about. Some of the stolen documents were so sensitive that they had to be kept not only in a secured facility, but in a locked safe inside that facility, and let's not forget that 43 folders were EMPTY. What happened to that particular tranche of ultra-classified documents is anyone's guess. Definitely not getting handed over to the Saudis in exchange for two billion dollars or anything, or God knows who. Trump's own lawyer went on TV to protest that Trump often had guests in that room where the documents were! So anyone, literally anyone, could have had access. WE DON'T KNOW!

Now Trump's hand-picked judge, Aileen Cannon, has thrown a deliberate wrench in the process of reviewing said documents, by issuing a bullshit temporary injunction that's supposed to clarify the nonsensical question of whether "executive privilege" applies to any of them, and I feel like I'm taking crazy pills. The DOJ will probably appeal, but that would get kicked upstairs to the Eleventh Circuit, which is also stacked with Trump appointees, so that might figure into their calculations (the next stop after that is SCOTUS, and we all know how that would go). The fact that an ex-president credibly accused of high treason can then personally pick the court to file his case in, get a favorable ruling from a judge HE also appointed (who inexplicably did not recuse herself, since expecting Republicans to act impartial or obey the law is also a foolish endeavor), and then stall the case through courts likewise loaded with his Federalist Society toadies, all the way up to the highest court in the land... wow. Wowweeeeeeee.

I don't expect an indictment before the midterms at the earliest, since DOJ has that "no actions that could be perceived as political 90 days before an election" rule which Garland has apparently taken care to restate. But also, it is utterly insane to me that Trump is still out there larking around free as a bird, posting deranged-even-by-his-standards rants on his failing Truth Social and having rallies where the dumbest goddamn people in the country still inexplicably flock to lick his ass, free to foment hate and spew lies and still get incredibly deferential media coverage considering the circumstances. Obviously the DOJ is worried about the threat of white supremacist riots in the streets, but also, failing to arrest a fascist because his fascist followers have threatened to inflict fascist violence is not remotely an option in a functional constitutional democracy. If they show that they can be intimidated by a bunch of thugs in KKK hoods, then quite obviously, the rule of law does NOT operate. We all hope it doesn't come to that.

Whoof. Anyway. The DOJ has been handling this case relatively well, and everything could still change after the midterms, when there will no longer be an imminent election to affect everyone's calculations. Yet again, the Democrats are playing by the rules while the Republicans trample all over them, which is a little maddening. I'm sure that the Biden administration is in full damage-control mode with overseas allies and information sources, which by nature, we're never going to know about. But the fact that after this, this shrieking deranged traitor is still the de facto leader of a major political party in this country is.... bad. No other way around it.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts #i need a drink

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imsobadatnicknames2 · 11 months

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I find it kinda funny that the term "melodic death metal" gets applied to two completely separate music genres that just sorta happened to convergently evolve around the same time. One of them is "pretty much just death metal except that you can actually make out the lead guitar melody" and the other is "by all accounts this is objectively just a power metal band and the only thing preventing it from being classified as such is the fact that their main vocalist can do growls/shrieks"

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wastelandmoony · 1 year

Text

Déjà Vécu: Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Electric Warrior

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n)

Summary: The visions become more frequent as she finds a mysterious box of items at her childhood home.

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+ only!, angst, anxiety/overwhelming feelings

Read on AO3

Companion Playlist

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

The shrill ring of the phone woke her from a restless sleep. Blindly running her hand along the mattress, she felt the empty sheets slide through her fingers. Tommy must have left for work already. The shrieking of the phone again made her groan into the pillow. She sat up and reached for the receiver on the nightstand.

“Hullo?” She rasped, voice heavy with sleep.

“What’re you doing still in bed?!”

Her best friend Kate was never one for proper greetings.

“Shut up it’s only…” she glanced over at the alarm clock, 11:30am, “…shit.”

She ran a hand over her face.

“D’ya want to come shopping today? I was thinking of doing Camden Market,” Kate cheerfully crackled through the line.

“Sure, yeah. Give me a few minutes, I’ll meet you at the station.”

——

Kate was bouncing up and down by the time she showed up.

“How are you chipper this early on a Saturday?” She grumbled, shifting uncomfortably in her jeans and docs. The sudden awakening this morning had left her with zero desire to put effort into her appearance, leading to a pair of faded jeans and the same maroon and gold jumper from the night prior. Still not able to remember where exactly she had gotten it from, though it was quickly becoming her favorite article of clothing.

“It’s past noon, get it together,” Kate gave a side-eye glare as she pinched the sleeve of the maroon sweater, “where’d you get this, it’s cute.”

She shrugged her off as the train approached, “Found it.”

Kate bore the largest share of the conversation on the way to Camden, talking animatedly about her new girlfriend and their plans on adopting a dog.

“Look at this little black shaggy one! Isn’t he sweet?” She showed her a clipped photo from the classified ad section of the paper.

Nodding half-heartedly, she barely took a look at the photo, still feeling entirely burnt out. The scruffy looking dog in the photo made her scowl, “He looks like he’d be a problem.”

The market was packed, which was to be expected for a Saturday right before the holidays. They wound through the rows of stalls, peeking through stacks of vintage shirts, leather bags, and quirky knick-knacks. I need to get Tommy a Christmas gift, she made a mental note as she flipped through a stack of cds for sale. A motorcycle engine roared to life nearby, drawing her attention just as Kate rejoined her side. The man straddling the seat looked in their direction, throwing his helmet on before riding off. She stared at his retreating form, the flutter of something thumping in her chest. A strange longing pulled at her heartstrings, she wanted to be on the back of that bike. Exhaust filled her nose and she closed her eyes, feeling the wind blow through her hair, gripping onto soft leather, hearing a man calling her name, “Alright, love?! Look down—”

“Hey!” Kate called from inside a stall, “fancy a pint? We can grab food at the pub down the road.”

She nodded a response, shaking the other voice from her head, eyes still focused on the motorcycle in the distance.

The two made their way down High Street, growing closer toward the canal until they found the pub. Choosing a spot by the window overlooking the street, they ordered drinks and food, and Kate began to give a run down of what she bought back at the market. Tuning in and out of the conversation, the stone bridge just on the other side of the street was distracting her. Her eyes kept leaping over towards it, consciously being sucked in by some invisible force. As she stared at the worn stones, a sudden rush of emotion crashed over her.

She could feel the stones cutting into her back, the rough edges grinding against her spine. The smell of smoke, leather, and warm spice filled her senses as she gripped onto something silky and dark. A word was on the tip of her tongue, begging to be let out as she felt her body on the precipice of convulsion.

Si—

“Hey!” Kate’s snapping brought her back. She blinked a few times, trying to grasp onto what just happened. It was a memory, but she couldn’t remember ever being in this part of the city let alone near that bridge.

“Sorry…I zoned out for a second. Work has me going nuts,” she offered a sheepish smile as an apology, while Kate slid over another pint.

It started to get dark as they left the pub, the majority of the tourists leaving the area at that point, blanketing the dark streets with a peaceful quiet save for a few passing cars and pedestrians. The two women made their way back to the tube, passing by the market once more. She glanced over as they crossed the road, and caught a glimpse of a person in a familiar wool coat walking amongst the stalls. Upon a double take, they were gone, the soft glow of the Christmas lights illuminating the empty market.

——

December 23rd, 1998

One last day of work before the holiday break.

She just had to make it through one more bloody day.

The museum was usually busy the week leading up a holiday, many schools opting field trips rather than a usual lesson plan before a long break. On her lunch hour she made the familiar journey upstairs to the Print gallery, taking a seat in front of Circe. The gallery was quiet, with only a few other visitors slowly meandering throughout. She opened her tattered copy of Emily Bronte poems and began to lose herself in the words. A figure walked up beside the bench, paying her no mind as he stared ahead at the print. She looked over and was met with the sandy haired man from last week. She felt slightly uneasy by his returning presence, but decided to make light of it.

“Are you stalking me?” She laughed lightly, looking up as he turned towards the question, taking a seat on the bench beside her.

He smiled slightly, “No, i’m not stalking you—”

She hadn’t gotten a look at his face last time, but he was younger than she initially believed, he had to be in his late thirties at least. Silver scars were etched across his skin, the largest spanning from his left eyebrow to his right cheekbone. His sandy hair was wavy in a slightly unruly way, strands of grey peaking through the sides. The most striking part about him were his eyes. Hazel with deep greens and warm browns; a forest after a heavy rain. Something about them calmed her.

“—I live nearby, so I come here a lot.”

She smiled, “A fellow art purveyor, I see.”

He chuckled, the sound warming her chest, “I guess you could say that,” he motioned down to the book in her lap, “Good choice.”

“Oh,” she giggled, “Yeah, I love Bronte. I like poetry in general, but she’s my favorite. I love her duality; she can devastate with a single line, or completely romanticize the mundane.”

His eyes bore into her, and it might have been a trick of the light, but she could have sworn they flashed gold for a split second.

“That’s a beautiful way of putting it,” he grinned.

Something was pulling her towards this stranger. Was he even a stranger anymore? This was technically not their first meeting. She decided to throw caution to the wind and tell him her name, something that he accepted with a smirk.

“I’m Remus, it’s a pleasure,” he shook her hand and she noticed he had scars on them as well. She wondered what they were from.

“Remus?” She raised an eyebrow at his unconventional moniker.

He chucked, “It’s ridiculous, I know…”

She shook her head vehemently, “No! I was actually going to say I think it’s very cool, like the myth. Were you also raised by a wolf, Remus?” she joked.

He made an amused face, “Well, some have claimed as such…”

Unsure of how to react, she just chose to laugh, eliciting another brief smile from Remus.

She glanced down at her watch, “Shit, I have to go, my break is up.”

He stood when she rose from the bench, extending his hand again as she took it.

“It was great speaking with you, again,” she laughed. He inclined his head and gave a closed smile.

“Enjoy your Christmas, Remus,” she waved before heading back down toward her office.

The smell of soot filled her nose as she cleared the doorway of the gallery. Someone was screaming, though it sounded far away she could still make out the words.

“Help! Get Mum!” The male’s voice yelled, and her body went cold.

She could smell blood.

“He’s lost a lot of blood, Monty…” a woman’s voice, calmer but filled with urgency rang out.

She looked around the corridor; there was a few families around, none of which were in a panic.

What the fuck was going on?

She needed to sit down.

Quickly, she walked back down to her office, trying to breathe normally as her mind raced. She’d experienced deja vu a handful of times in her life, like everyone, but these memory flashes were something different entirely. These weren’t just a vague sense of repeating a moment, these were intense emotional snippets that encompassed her entire senses. She sat down at her desk, resting her forehead on the wooden surface. Even equal breaths calmed her slightly, the thought of seeing her parents for Christmas Eve dinner tomorrow made her feel even better.

——

December 24th, 1998

“Mum, do you need help with anything?”

Her small childhood home was filled with the traditional scents of Christmas: crisp pine, roasted turkey, a crackling fire, and a subtle hint of chocolate. For the first time in weeks, she felt like she could breathe.

Her mother waved her off as she flitted around the kitchen, stirring pots and chopping vegetables for dinner. Tommy and her dad were laughing loudly at a rerun of an old Fawlty Towers episode playing in the living room.

“Actually darling,“ her mother chimed, looking up from the stove, “could you set the table? The good plates are in your old bedroom, in the box labeled ‘entertaining’.”

She nodded and made her way towards the stairs.

“Don’t forget the serving tray too!” Her mother called after her.

The pale carpet underfoot was worn down, years of traffic from her racing up and down the hallways, galloping through the house while creating elaborate fantasy worlds about witches and kings and dragons. Her old bedroom stood at the end of the hall, the white paint on the door flaking off in spots where she had meticulously placed stickers when she was 8 years old. The walls inside were still a faint lilac, but the furniture had all been sold years ago, replaced with random boxes and used as extra storage space. The only thing left was a tall bookshelf, filled with memorabilia from her childhood that she didn’t take when she moved out. She ran her fingers over the books on the middle shelf, remembering when she would beg for just ‘one more chapter’ as her mom nodded off at her bedside.

She looked up at the higher shelves, glancing over the plastic horses and discarded crayon boxes, stopping on a box perched on the very top of the bookcase, wedged against the ceiling. Dumping out a crate filled with old magazines, she flipped it over and used it as a stool, reaching up and wrenching the cardboard box free. It wasn’t heavy, but she still handled it with the utmost care as it was placed onto the floor. Sitting cross legged, she examined the old box. It wasn’t secured shut, just held closed by the top flaps. There was writing on the side, scribbled in hurried handwriting:

Do not open unless instructed - RL

She scrunched her eyebrows, RL? She didn’t know anyone with those initials…

Carelessly ignoring the etched instructions, she unfolded the top flaps and peered inside.

It was…normal stuff?

Old vinyl records caught her eye first, flipping through to see some Bowie, Zeppelin, and Queen albums. One in the back of the stack was particularly torn up, and she lifted it carefully to find T-Rex’s Electric Warrior.

“Oh wow…I haven’t heard them in ages…” she whispered incredulously. Maybe she’d take this home with her.

A wooden stick tumbled from behind one of the albums as she pulled out the record, rolling forward into her hand. The golden wood shone in the light, small carvings peppered from one end towards the middle. She picked it up, and it instantly her palm felt a faint warmth.

Weird.

As she twirled the stick in between her fingers, walking the vinyl over towards the ancient record player on the floor by the window. She remembered her mother always yelling to turn the music down as the Beatles would blast through the speakers early on Sundays, her dad dancing with her around the house making breakfast.

Moving the needle to the first track, Mambo Sun crackled through the dust covered speakers as she sat back next to the box. Closing her eyes, she drummed the stick against the carpet in time, moving her shoulders to the music. As the song wound down, she continued rummaging through the mystery box, picking up a leather-bound book and flipping through the yellowed pages.

All of them were empty.

She tapped the stick against her leg to Cosmic Dancer, running a thumb over the blank parchment. This would make a cool sketchbook actually, she thought.

Tapping in time against the open book, she leaned forward to take another look into the box when she caught something out of the corner of her eye. Words were slowly appearing on the once blank pages. Her hands began to shake as she read them:

I know it’s stupid, writing to you when I know you won’t ever receive it, but I just need to feel a sense of normalcy. I miss you, every single day, I miss you. I hope you’ll forgive me, fuck, I hope I survive long enough to try and fix things. More people have disappeared, Marlene is gone. I’m not sure how much more we can stand to lose, the Order is barely standing, I’m barely standing. I hope you’re okay, I hope you’re enjoying your life.

The opposite page began to fill with words as well, the handwriting becoming more frantic:

They’re dead. They’re both gone, Peter is missing and presumed dead too. I don’t know why I’m writing this, again, I just know you’d be able to find something to say if you were here. I’m so lost, I don’t know if I can survive this. I need you.

She quickly tore through the remaining pages, all of which remained blank, save for the very last one:

It’s finally over. We won. I’m going to find you, please forgive me.

She gripped the book tightly, searching for any answers to the questions swirling around her mind. Who wrote this? Who is RL and why did her parents have this box hidden away?

The door to the bedroom opened, her father stood in the door way as she looked up from the floor. His eyes shot to the wooden stick in her hand, resting on the open book, then to the box on the carpet. Quickly, he ripped both items from her grasp, tossing them into the cardboard box and hoisting it back onto the top of the bookshelf.

“Dad—“ she murmured, “—what was all of that stuff? Who’s is it?”

He walked over to the record player, removing the needle, “Your mother told me to come look for you, you’re supposed to be setting the table.”

Rising from the floor, she found the box filled with dishes against the far wall.

“Sorry, I got distracted. I found that box, and then the records, and then I found a weird sketchbook that had disappearing ink in it—”

Her father froze as he took the dishes from her.

“—something about people dying, or going missing or something…someone named Peter? It was weird. Who’s RL by the way? Why is it written on the side?”

He looked her in the eye, gripping her arm tightly, “Do not go looking in that again. Do you understand me?” His voice was stern, with an edge to it that she hadn’t heard since she was younger.

“Y-yes dad, I’m sorry…” she whimpered as he let go.

“Good. Now grab the serving tray, your mum’s about to have a fit,” He grabbed the plates and headed downstairs, leaving her more confused that she already had been.

She glanced up at the box, and listened to her father’s retreating footsteps. Quickly and without a sound, she leapt up onto the crate, tearing down the box and grabbing the sketchbook and wooden stick. Concealing both under her sweater, she replaced the box and picked up the serving tray, dumping her hidden items into her purse as she passed it on the stairs.

#marauders fic #marauders fanfiction #marauders era fanfiction #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #Remus Lupin fluff #harry potter fanfiction #remus lupin #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader

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physicalee-tired · 23 days

Text

Eddsworld TK headcanons!

low-key Going Through It (TM) so I’m regressing back into my middle school obsessions! I’ll try to do the characters justice (￣▽￣;).

Edd 💚

He mostly seeks out tickle fights when he’s insanely bored and feels like being a little shit.

I’d like to think he’s a Ler-leaning switch. He enjoys being a menace but he also doesn’t mind getting what he deserves.

I’ve seen a few HCs that his tummy is his worst spot and I gotta agree.

Man is squishy! And a large squishy man needs a nice squishy tummy to give raspberries to. Although he’s also a little insecure about it so little ticklish kisses and appreciation make him blush so hard.

His favorite victim used to be Tord before he left because the red hooded man would get so mad and wreck him back after.

Now he picks on Tom because he also gets pissy about it, the only difference is that Edd now fears for his life because Tom is very calculating (more on that later)

Since Edd can grow scruff he takes advantage of that whenever he’s too lazy to shave. He enjoys casually putting his head on his close friends or s/o’s shoulders close to their neck just to make them squirm and giggle while he talks

Insanely fucking teasy and loves instigating tickle fights but what he loves more is convincing the others to double team someone else. It just brings him joy knowing he can get the others to play along with his playful moods.

“Hm? What’s that? Speak up, you’re giggling a little too much. It tickles? and here I thought it was my incredible wit… positivelee devastating don’t you think?”

Matt 💜

Not gonna lie, he’s probably too absorbed in himself to go out and tickle any of the others unless they were really feeling out of it.

That being said he is by far the easier Lee out of all of them. Matt can be so unintentionally annoying he has to get wrecked at least once a week.

Matt didn’t take out the trash? Edd, go give him a reason to do it! Matt replaced a picture of your mother with one of himself? Tom, make him put it back! Matt didn’t help when you were trapped in the underground tomb and forced to listen to the song you hate the most in the world? Tord practically made him cry when he wrecked him after that day

While his laugh can be pretty damn cute, he’s more disposed to shrill shrieks and begging. He snorts occasionally too and he always blushes and tries to cover his face after.

His worst spot, is his neck I think. Maybe I’m just biased because of the whole vampire thing but I’d like to think his neck became a more sensitive spot overall for him.

however it’s not just his neck that’s insanely ticklish, his ears and back are also pretty bad. He shrieks and jumps almost 5 feet into the air if someone slides a finger down his back teasingly

His face gets so red when he laughs it’s absolutely adorable, it’s not even the fact that someone had just tickled him that much he’s just really pale (lmao ginger)

Despite his self centered ways he’s nothing if not a good friend. Whenever anyone felt bad and he didn’t exactly understand the situation he’d resort to physical touch. A supportive hand on their back, a soft hug from behind, Matt why are your hands slipping under my shirt- Matt. MATT—

Even though he’d be classified more as a Lee. Matt’s teasing game is strong although he really isn’t trying… he’s just genuinely amazed

“Awww look at that pretty smile!~ Oh! That was a cute sound, do it again! where was it…? Was it here? Or here? Or maybe here? Oh! What if I do this instead! Haha see? Doesn’t it feel better to laugh like this?”

Tom 💙

He’s a lot more playful than the fandom let’s him be. Sure he’s really cynical and can be kind of a prick but he loves his buddies… they just get on his freaking nerves sometimes.

Unfortunately he’s also emotionally constipated so he’s a Lee-leaning switch. He lets himself get tickled to pieces but that’s only because he’s plotting.

His armpits are his worst spot but the back of his knees are a very close second. One will make him squeal, and the other will get you kicked in the face.

When Tom plots… he plots hard. He’ll try to think of when and how to get his friends back for tickling him so much he actually said “please”. He’ll wait as long as he needs to and when one of them is inevitably stuck in a dangerously ticklish situation he’ll casually go “Hey so remember when my hoodie got stuck on Steve and I asked for help…? Well, now it’s my turn”.

He also started using tickling as a form of “punishment” and annoyance after he got too wasted one night and almost stabbed Tord with his empty bottle of Smirnoff.

Speaking of drunk Tom… he actually likes being tickled gently when he’s drunk and will ask once he’s comfortable enough. “hey… could you um… d-do the thing? You know the thing! I’ll, like, lay in your lap and you can just tickle me but… you have to be nice!”

When he’s feeling more playful he’ll tease by using the good ‘ol tickle monster tactic. Except in his case, his eyes actually begin to glow a little in excitement and his nails actually seem to get a little pointier… all the better to tickle with I suppose.

Since he doesn’t play the role of Ler too often, he kinda sucks at it. He can’t really tease once he has his target in his grasp. He is good at being blunt and snarky though.

“pfft, no way it tickles that bad? I think you’re lying, yup. A lying liar pants. Keep it up with that attitude and I’ll tickle you for 10 more minutes”.

Tord ❤️

what an enigma… no, really I don’t know what to make of him. He rarely ever spoke pre-Legacy and we all know about The End(s) affect on the fandom… the horror

definitely a ler-leaning switch. He’s very chaotic pre-legacy.

ticklish hips. Another HC I am low-key stealing (sorry I’m too tired to think creatively) and y’know what I think it’s valid as hell.

the type of mf that has cold hands and will actively go out of his way to stick them on your neck or under your shirt with an evil grin his faces (I… I am guilty of doing this it’s just really funny)

very quick with the threats when being tickled, the only issue is there are no threats only soon to be fulfilled promises.

Tord is pretty ruthless and will do almost anything to get his Lee to squeal. He cackles maniacally when he’s done. Only really offering a head pat or half hug.

TomTord shippers… sit your asses down it’s all about Tord and Edd. Tord used to love teasing and starting tickle fights with Edd over the pettiest shit and would only ever really allow Edd to tickle him.

He also used to get Matt a lot back when he had enough brain cells to be mean.

he and Tom get into tickle fights sometimes sure but to them it feels more like a competition than a fun bonding thing.

he’s pretty good at teasing. Throwing some Norwegian in there for good measure. His real passion though his physical teasing, if slow methodical tickling gets a Lee to beg. Perfect. Poking makes them jump and squeak? Noted. Nibbling? Sure, why not? Might as well put his sharp teeth to work to make his Lee absolutely scream! “Oho? What’s this? It tickles when I do this? Kile! Så Søt! Haha! You have to say please~ Hmmm… I guess I can… NOPE! Get wrecked! Hahaha!

(edit, sorry I had to fix the tags. I was half asleep when I wrote em lmao)

#tickle hcs #Eddsworld tickle #eddsworld #Ticklish!Tom #Ticklish!Matt #Ticklish!Edd #Ticklish!Tord #Sfw tickles

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monstersdownthepath · 1 year

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Monster Spotlight: Charau-Ka

CR 2

Chaotic Evil Small Humanoid

Inner Sea World Guide, pg. 308 (Pic from Adventure Path: Age of Ashes: Cult of Cinders, pg. 84)

Known across the continent of Garund and the surrounding lands by varying names--such as Man-Apes, Man-Eating Apes, or Demon Apes--the Charau-Ka were born ages ago in the deep jungle of the Mwangi Expanse through the power of Angazhan, the Ravenous King, the tyrannical Demon Lord who’s had a six-fingered hand dug into the Expanse since there was an Expanse. It’s said that Angazhan blessed his oldest cult with the power to reincarnate their fallen allies into a new and more powerful shape... and do the same to their fallen enemies, bringing them under the Ape King’s thrall. This gives Charau-Ka a terrifying quality found in few other living monsters; there’s a good chance any given Man-Ape your party encounters might have once been a human, perhaps even an adventurer just like them who sought to end the threat the Charau-Ka pose to civilization and wound up joining them.

At home in thick jungles, the 30ft climb speed and brachiating movements among the trees give the man-eaters incredible mobility in their natural environment, adding a degree of danger few low-level encounters can match. Frighteningly intelligent, especially in groups, Charau-Ka can rig their jungle homes with traps like drop nets, pitfalls, log traps, and weaponized venomous animals to whittle down a party that can’t fight back through the thick foliage or reliably fire into the upper branches from which the beast-men attack. Unless forced down from the trees, the branches are likely where they’ll stay, as they’re perfectly built to be menaces from a range.

Charau-Ka have Point-Blank Shot and Precise Shot to give their ranged attacks a bit of extra oomph, but they’re also Thrown Weapon Masters that gain Throw Anything as a bonus feat to assure they’re never unarmed. Whether it be proper weapons like slings, daggers, or throwing axes, or improvised weapons like dung, rocks, branches, or alchemist’s fire, Charau-Ka get a +1 to attack rolls when tossing anything around. Thrown Weapon Mastery also doubles the threat range of any thrown weapon they use, typically meaning they go to 19-20... but if they have a bag-full of daggers, that’s a bunch of throwables with a crit range of 16~20. A DM wishing to make them even more dangerous can arm them with exotic weapons like the starknife, as they’re able to take slightly more advantage of its intimidating x3 crit modifier.

Side note: Did you know the blowgun is classified as a thrown weapon? Not especially scary damage-wise, but its absolutely silent firing mechanism and decent range combined with a Charau-Ka’s stealth, ability to climb, and access to jungle toxins can make it one of the deadliest options they have for dealing with an adventuring party heading into their territory.

Being caught in melee is never an enviable position for anything with only 14 AC and no DR or elemental resistances, so the Demon Apes tend to stay as high as possible, but mistakes happen. Ambushes from the players happen, combat in an open area happens. That’s why Charau-Ka can enter a Shrieking Frenzy once per day as a free action, screaming and howling at the top of their lungs (to the point of failing all Stealth checks automatically) and preventing them from speaking or providing verbal components for their spells. What do they get for these restrictions? Haste for 3 entire rounds, bolstering their AC, their Reflex saves, and their DPS. Able and willing to use simple weapons, this means their full attack is two weapon attacks (1d4 or 1d6 +3) that likely carry some form of poison, and a bite (1d3+1) which carries the psychological damage of being bitten by an ape.

One Charau-Ka entering its frenzy can be dangerous. An entire group of them at once can quickly out-DPS parties hoping to shred through their meager HP reserves... And then there’s one simple, especially fun fact: Charau-Ka can and DO frequently take class levels in things like Fighter, Oracle, Ranger, Hunter, Slayer, and Barbarian. If you think a screaming monkey is bad already, imagine one under the effects of both Haste AND a Barbarian Rage, wielding a weapon far more formidable than a treebranch club or simple bone dagger.

You can read more about them here.

#Monster Spotlight #CR 1 to 5 #Pathfinder #Dungeons and Dragons

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cyberaxolotl · 1 year

Text

The Snaktooth Island Disappearances: Chapter 1

Warnings: Major character death, horror, non-explicit death, references to s^lf harm

AO3 Alternative

“The following documents are classified.

This is [&/:$):?/?/&@] writing for [\£?%], reporting on the recent tragedy and semi-mass disappearance of several grumpuses. An expedition was hosted years ago to Snaktooth Island, a small land off of the coast of North Mayflowers, which seems to have been part of a small archipelago. A team of twelve grumpuses lead by Elizabert Megafig left in June of 1967, and journalist “Scarla Echoyear” from GNN was sent in August of 1968 to interview Megafig and learn more about the island and the expedition team. The journalist was scheduled to return from the island 13 months after they had left; it is now December of 1970 and nobody has heard word from Echoyear nor of the expedition team. Workers were sent to Snaktooth Island to perform a welfare check on Echoyear and return them to the mainland, only to find that not only have they disappeared, but every member of the expedition team has. Detectives and investigators are currently taking routine trips to the island to investigate the mysterious disappearances of all thirteen grumpuses.

Those who disappeared include Scarla Echoyear, Elizabert Megafig herself, her wife Eggabell Batternugget, Filbo Fiddlepie, Shellsy Woolbag, Cromdo Face, Beffica Winklesnoot, married couple Wambus Troubleham and Triffany Lottablog, Gramble Gigglefunny, popstar Wiggle Wigglebottom, Chandlo Funkbun, Snorpington Fizzlebean, and Floofalie Fizzlebean. We are sure that their last whereabouts were on Snaktooth Island, as no boats of any kind have docked here carrying any of the team, and everyone attending the expedition is recorded as having left the mainland three years ago.

Investigators are struggling to find evidence, however, they have found what seems to be a diary of some kind. It is signed as being written by Beffica Winklesnoot, and the handwriting matches her records. The diary has been analyzed by investigators and a selected timeframe of passages has now been passed to me for documentation. All of the following is directly transcribed from the diary unless marked otherwise.”

September 25th 1970

I usually don’t write in my diary this late, or this early I guess, but something grumping strange just happened. I heard someone walking around outside my hut, and when I went to see it, it was just Gramble sleepwalking :o/ I thought it’d be more fun to wake him up than let him walk around doing nothing, but he screamed in my face the second he was up cuz I scared him so hard. I was bugging him while he went back to the barn, and then we saw it; I don’t even know how to describe it!! There was a THING there, it looked like a grumpus, but it wasn’t! It was MADE of bugsnax, more than anyone who was snakified or anything. When we saw it, we both just froze, until it fell apart and ran away- then I shrieked. Woke the whole town up. When we explained it, they didn’t rlly believe me, but they did believe him. Double standards :o(

Scarla couldn’t even figure out what it was after they looked around. Whatever it was, I didn’t like it; I’m not scared of the dark, but I feel uneasy just looking out my window now. Dunno if I can go back to bed after that, not even sure I feel okay turning off my lantern!!

“We are unsure if this entry is linked to future highlighted ones, however we’ve documented it just for security.”

October 15th 1970

Floofty came back to Snaxburg last night, can’t say I’m upset ;o) just means another snarky grump is back for me to mess with. So long as they don’t cut me open in my sleep for it

Scarla’s been a REALLY good bestie~ they’re helping me snakify my arms all green today, we’re gonna get Chandlo’s secrets outta Snorpy soon! Whatever his baggage is, it has to be REALLY juicy for it to be hidden so well

I'm hoping Scarla gets back with those snax soon. i dunno why, but i think i've been feeling more tired than normal- i'm ALWAYS sleepy at sunset, whenever it’s dark, but i feel like i'm getting more tired earlier. Is it getting darker earlier? I can't tell, but it’s getting colder anyway, so I might just be feeling like hibernating lol~

October 16th 1970

Trying to get Chandlo’s secrets out of Snorpy TOTALLY failed :o( never been more disappointed than this!! I thought I’d get some good JUICY dirt and I got nothing!

Buuuut, even if I failed with Chandlo, I heard Floofty and Triffany talking about something in the research tent. Not sure what, but I heard the words “dark” and “winter” a lot, so i guess they’re talking about all that. then they saw me, oops ;o3

Eggabell came back today. I’m surprised, I didn’t think she’d come back, and even then without Lizbert. I gotta wonder how she’s doing.

October 17th 1970

Okay, something is REALLY up now.

Most of Snaxburg has the same schedule, we wake up when the sun rises, go to bed once it goes down. I think I just naturally don’t get up unless the sun is blazing in my face nowadays, so imagine my surprise when I woke up and it was almost noon! and the sun was barely up!

I asked everyone at the center of town about it and they had done it too. Floofty said it’s because it’s becoming winter, it’s gonna be darker earlier and brighter less, but by this much? I don’t buy it. Gramble’s trying to train a bugsnak like a rooster so that we wake up at the right time, but waking up when it’s dark doesn’t sound like something I wanna do. It’s cold anyway~ so if that means waking up right before noon, so be it

Chandlo and Snorpy are walking around town putting up lantern posts. Not lit yet, and I'm hoping they’re pretty dim, I don’t need a lantern right outside my door all night long.

The sun set today at, like, six pm. Hell if I know what’s going on, but if it’s just winter, I can see myself doing a lot of sleeping.

October 18th 1970

The same thing happened today, the sun didn’t rise until noon. Dunno what’s happening around here :o/ Snaktooth Island is a pretty weird place, but I’ve been here three years, and I NEVER saw this before. Not last winter, at least. Filbo helped Snorpy and Chandlo put oil in all of the lanterns, so we don’t have to stay inside when it’s dark anymore. It’s better than only having a five hour day.

I noticed something today. I looked into the distance, at the rest of the island, and it’s all dark too. Usually I can see the volcano glowing and burning, but I can’t see anything out there when the sun isn't up. And when the sun is down, it’s weird that there aren’t any stars.

Safe to say it’s pretty obvious that nobody in town knows what’s going on. Gramble brought all of his snax into the barn and I barely see him come out when it’s dark, and Snorpy seems hellbent on not leaving the mill at all if the sun isn’t up.

Filbo’s still getting up at the usual time to start the fire, and I realized that he didn’t stop it at all, even when the sun was up. I bet he’s scared of the dark~

“The following passages are written in noticeably messier cursive.”

October 19th 1970

The sun didn’t come up today.

I woke up to Scarla shaking me awake, and I wondered why they were waking me up when it was still dark, but then they showed me their watch- it was the middle of the afternoon.

Everyone in town gathered for a meeting around the fire, which was HUGE. I think Filbo and Chandlo stocked it up higher today, because that thing burned brighter than any of the lanterns.

When we realized what was going on, everyone turned to Triffany, Floofty, and Snorpy. If anyone was going to know what was going on, it was them, wasn’t it? They’re supposed to be the smart ones.

We all ignored Snorpy when he went on a fit about the Grumpinati, figuring the other two would have a better idea, but they DIDN’T. I’ve never seen Floofty more defeated than when they didn’t have an explanation.

I don’t grumping like it at all. The fire was warm, but when I walked away from it to go back home, it was cold. REALLY cold, like freezer cold. It went away when I got back to the lanterns, but I feel like it comes back whenever I look into the darkness too.

I’m not scared of the dark, I never have been. But something’s wrong today.

October 20th 1970

Still no sun. I woke up and saw the fire blazing outside, and I was surprised when I wanted to join everyone and sit around it. Filbo, Wambus, Eggabell, and Chandlo were all around the fire, and when I was awake enough, I joined them.

They were talking about how to give everyone enough light in their huts over the days. The lanterns are hung up all around town, and a few are hanging in the tent, but most of us don’t rlly have more than candles in our huts. I’ve got fairy lights, and the end of my pen glows~

But I’m pretty sure my fairy lights are giving out. Without electricity here, they’re powered by other light hitting them, and there isn’t much of that anymore. And it’s not like the dinky little glow of my pen is gonna do anything.

It had to have been noon when Filbo called everyone to the fire to ask who needed new lanterns or candles. I took a lantern, don’t need an open flame in my hut, but I heard some of the others talking while they were given out. Gramble said something about how the barn was giving him chills now, like it was too big for him, and the darkest corners were huge. Eggabell agreed with him, she said the darkness felt cold, and she couldn’t bear to look at the corners of her and Lizbert’s hut. I didn’t think anyone else felt it.

Floofty and Triffany were talking too. I think they’re trying to figure out what’s causing this, stuff about winter, and prolonged eclipses, or something to do with the bugsnax. But I think whatever’s happening is bigger than the bugsnax, it has to be, doesn’t it? The bugsnax can’t make an entire island black out like this.

Everyone agreed at the end that, even if the dark is scary, it isn’t dangerous. I might not like it, but it’s not like the darkness itself can kill me. Filbo asked if Shelda wanted to stay inside someone’s hut instead of out in her gazebo in case she felt unsafe, but she didn’t want to. Everyone is just staying in their own huts, alone or with their housemate.

October 21st 1970

Another day of darkness. Everyone gathered around the fire today instead of staying in their huts, and it seemed like today was the day Filbo decided to try to keep our spirits high. He kept talking about how he’s sure the sun will come back up again, and we just gotta wait, but I think he knew half of us didn’t buy it. I don’t know what to believe, tbh.

Triffany said that she’s going to start trying to do some research, cuz Floofty gave her some new books for her study. I don’t even know what she COULD research about this, but I'm not rlly a science grump, so I guess I wouldn’t know anything at all.

Gramble said that the bugsnax have been restless today, ever since last night, he said the ones outside have been banging on the door. Didn’t find it amusing when I offered to eat them ;o)

We realized today that we weren’t sure how we’d get bugsnax now if Gramble didn’t give any up. We thought Scarla could go out of town and catch bugsnax nearby, but Filbo didn’t want them to do that, and neither did Eggabell. What else are we gonna do, though? I’m not gonna go out in the dark to steal from Gramble, there’s no lights over the pen. I don’t want them to go out either, but if Scarla doesn’t bring us snax, who will?

I don’t know what decision they came to. Today was a lot of nothing, just half-assed decision making.

October 22nd 1970

We gathered around the fire again today. I think most of us think it’s better than being alone in dark huts, except Snorpy and Gramble, but they’ve always been exceptions.

Apparently Scarla decided to go out and get snax today. No matter what direction I look, I can’t see their lantern anywhere in the distance. I asked everyone why they thought we couldn’t see them, and everyone had a different answer. Triffany and Floofty said the darkness is also part fog, Filbo said they’re up in the mountains, and Wiggle said we’d never be able to see their light from so far away. I guess I believe the scientists the most~

It was an excruciatingly BORING day today. I spent a lot of it listening to everyone else talk on and on about whatever, I almost fell asleep by the fire a couple times, and I probably would’ve if Cromdo’s voice didn’t make me jump every time. I don’t think any of us even know what the time is anytime anymore, we just go to the fire when we wake up, and leave when we’re tired.

“The following page had a page ripped out before it. Searching the writer’s hut, we found several torn pages crumpled under the bed, including the one that fit.”

i had a nightmare that felt too real it was like the sky was falling and the fog was rolling over the stars

i was alone, so alone not even in my hut but on cold stone it felt like scorched gorge but it was so cold i was scared i was so scared

there was nothing but a candle there with me and it felt like nothing the darkness consumed everything that wasn’t the flame it was all i saw and when i looked away something called to me and told me to come to it

it wanted me to leave the light and be part of the darkness

i don’t want to be cold

October 23rd 1970

I was the first one at the fire after Filbo lit it today. He looked surprised when I was the first one to come up behind him, and I actually think I scared him. When it was just the two of us, I felt… Awkward. Maybe it was because it was Filbo, and he expected me to insult him, but I couldn’t today. I didn’t try to talk to him at all, and he didn’t try to either. When Wambus and Triffany got there, he was all over the conversation. When everyone arrived, we all had a question.

Scarla wasn’t back today. It had to have been about 24 hours since they left, and they weren’t back. Filbo was sure they were getting as many snax as possible, so that they could get food for everyone, but can’t they only carry so many? Everyone figured they’d get back soon, if they can get set on fire and not care about it, they can survive this.

Gramble came to the fire today looking more traumatized than usual. None of us got an answer out of him around the fire, but I could tell Wiggle was going to get it out of him given how much he trusts her. They walked off to talk to each other by the barn, and I was just lucky enough to be the one closest to them.

His snax turned to mush. All of them. Every snak, in every enclosure, turned to mush and disappeared.

Does that mean every snak on the island is gone now? Is Scarla out for nothing?

I didn’t tell the others, but it’s been worrying me since I heard it. I don’t want to eat sauce until this is over.

October 24th 1970

Scarla still didn’t come back today.

Wambus is giving out rations of sauce, but it’s hard to make sure everyone gets their preference when most of us like sweet stuff. Though, it was pretty entertaining to watch Triffany drink straight hot sauce without a change of face.

I feel like the lanterns and the fire are starting to give off less light or something. It used to envelop the entire heart of town, but now, it barely escapes all of the seats, and the lanterns don’t really make a path anymore. It’s a lot scarier to go from my hut and back now, I can’t stand being in the dark for even a few seconds.

I kinda wanna ask to hutmate up with someone, but do I really want to? It’d probably be for the best, but then again, who’d wanna room with me lol. I didn’t really listen to todays conversation, I think I got super stuck in my own head

I hope Scarla is back with snax soon.

October 25th

There was no fire today.

I dunno if Filbo forgot to start it, or if he didn’t want to, but there wasn’t a gathering around the fire today. I think everyone stayed in their huts all day today. As far as I can see, their lanterns are all on. I see the little lights in their huts. Or, at least Wiggle, Eggabell, Triffany and Wambus, and Gramble are all at home. I can only see half of town from my window, but hey, it means they’re still out there.

If Scarla came back today, I hope they weren’t disappointed by the fire being out. I hope they’re waiting for it to come on, or they’re going to come by our huts and give us food, or smth. I don’t know.

October 26th 1970

forgot year yesterday, L beffy

There still wasn’t a fire today, and tbh, I’m kinda worried about it??? Filbo isn’t rlly the kinda guy to miss this out two days in a row. One if he’s super tired, but two? Nah. I wish I could see his hut from here and know if his lights are still on.

It’s also… kinda lonely out here. I didn’t think I’d feel it so fast, but after so long of seeing everyone by the fire, I think my brain has gone funny. I’m tempted to ask Wiggle if I can bunk by her until the fire goes back on, I can see her pacing around her hut, but I rlly don’t think she’d welcome me.

I gotta feel bad for Shelda about this. She doesn’t even have walls, can’t imagine her feeling safe about all this. Or warm.

I’m not really warm either, even if I am inside. My bed feels cold, my lantern is cold, it’s all really cold. I don’t like it. It’s been a long time since someone has hugged or held me, but well, what can I do about it?

October 27th 1970

Is this just one big halloween prank from the world to us? The fire wasn’t on again today, I don’t think Filbo is okay and I’m grumping scared. Everyone else’s lights are still on, and sometimes, I see Eggabell pass by the window. She looks just as scared as me, and if she looks out, she only looks worse. I feel weird looking out the window too. Even seeing the light of the other huts isn’t enough, the darkness just… it’s scary.

Sometimes I end up hitting my desk with my pen, and the light on it goes out for a little bit. It doesn’t take more than another tap for it to turn back on, but still, it’s scary to see it go out. I don’t know WHY it scares me to see it go out, when I’ve got the lantern, but it does. It doesn’t make me feel any better knowing my fairy lights went out ages ago, and I didn’t even notice.

October 28th 1970

I managed to talk to someone today. I saw Wiggle standing by her doorway, looking out, and I wondered if I could talk to her from across the street. Wasn’t easy, but we did it.

Put simply, we’re both grumping terrified. She was worried because she can’t see Gramble’s barn from her hut, but I can still see the light, and it felt kinda nice to see her feel better when I told her he was okay. We talked about what we thought this was, and she said something about bugsnax covering up the entire sky. I really don’t think so, but she’s got a few loose screws, so I wasn’t gonna stress myself out being mean right now.

I asked her if she thought it’d be safer if more of us were in the same place, and she was one step ahead of me. Said she’d been planning to take her lantern and run for the barn to stay with Gramble, but every time she’s about to go, she can’t get herself to. I guess I get it, it doesn’t seem safe to try and run across town like that. I wanted to ask if I could join her, but I dunno if she’d be very happy with that. I dunno if I would be either.

“The following is another ripped out page that fit into this spot between the other pages.”

i can’t do this i can’t do this i can’t do this i want my sister i want my father i want anyone who still loves me to hold me it’s too cold it’s too dark

the lights have all gone out all i see is black even with my eyes open it feels like something is staring back

i want to rip out my eyes i want to claw apart my flesh i don’t want to be cold i don’t want to be cold i don't want to be cold

i would give anything to be home and have dad telling jessany and i a story i would give anything just to be warm and happy

“Research has yielded that the mentioned “Jessany” is Beffica’s older sister, who has lived in New Grump City for all of her life with the two’s father, Olivier Winkleberry. We have not yet told either member of her family about Beffica’s disappearance and presumed death.”

October 29th 1970

I’m with Wiggle now. I had only been awake for a few minutes when I heard someone screaming, but it wasn’t even screaming- it was a yelp, and then silence. I caught a glimpse of light in town when I looked out, but it was gone in a second. It was one of the boys, one with a deeper voice, but I don’t know who. Wambus and Triffany’s light has still been on since it happened, so it wasn’t him either. Whoever it was, I didn’t wanna be next.

Wiggle had heard it too, and when she called out to me first, I knew I had to ask if we could stick together. She was so desperate that she didn’t care that it was me, she held her lantern out and told me to come to her.

I’ve got my diary obvs, and my lantern and pen. But something weird happened while I was crossing the street.

First of all, I felt SUPER cold the moment I was out of my hut. I would’ve frozen if I wasn’t rushing to get to Wiggle’s hut next, but I swear if I was out there a second longer, I would’ve gotten hypothermia or something.

And my pen is really struggling to stay on now. A few hits on the desk, and it only lights up for a few minutes. It’s like going through the dark broke it or something.

Neither of us want to sleep at the same time after hearing that scream this morning, so we decided we’ll sleep in shifts. She’s asleep rn, but she’s about to wake up, and it’ll be my turn.

I want this to be over soon.

“We are unsure of the validity of the timeline anymore, given the irregular sleeping shifts mentioned on the previous page. However, it is all we have to go off of currently.”

“The following page is covered in wet stains and has a very large ink splatter at the bottom.”

October 30th 1970

Wiggle has been basically hysterical for the little bit we’re awake at the same time for. She’s not doing anything crazy, but she’s talking to herself, and I'm pretty sure she’s crying based on how much mascara is leaking down her eyes. I'm scared too, I can’t deny being grumping terrified, but for some reason I can’t cry. I’ve never been able to take big stuff like this, I guess I don’t think it’s real, but it’s super real to her. I feel bad, I think. But with two lanterns and double the light now, I feel more secure at least. I'm hoping it lasts long.

“The following passage was written in messier handwriting and less refined, sometimes incorrect cursive, as well as on the same page as the previous passage.”

what the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK i looked away and she was fucking GONE where the fuck is she

she was sleeping just a second ago where did she go what did she do

did she go to get gramble?? why???

she took her lantern with her i don’t feel safe i don’t feel okay

my pen is still struggling to stay on and i don’t know where she keeps the fuel for her lanterns

why am i all alone again why why why why WHY WHY DON’T FUCKING DO THIS TO ME DON’T DO THIS

“The handwriting returns to normal for the rest of the page.”

im okay im okay I’m Okay

She’s going to come back. She’ll be back, and she’ll have Gramble, and then there will be three of us. and it’ll all be okay

I’m so tired. I’m so cold. But it’ll be okay soon. I just need to rest and she’ll be back in the morning

Please.

“The following is the last torn out page that we could find, and it fits here. Unlike previous pages, this one is in an entirely different handwriting. After being compared to records, it is most likely Wiggle Wigglebottom herself that wrote this.”

the final song i ever sing will be my aria into the dark unknown

may light find everyone as the shining stars disappear

may this foul force have mercy on them all

“The rest of the page is full of nonsensical black scribbles.”

october 31

she’s not back it’s not okay i’m not okay i can’t do this i can’t survive this

the darkness is calling me to it. it’s taking everything around me into it too. wiggle’s lantern is gone, mine went out while i was asleep

all i have left is my pen

and it’s too cold to keep my paw moving

i’m sorry for being a terrible friend

i’m sorry for being a horrible daughter

i’m sorry for being a mean little sister

dad, jess i love you two so much

hold me one last time please

“This was the final page in the diary, and no other pages seemed to have been torn out or removed. We cannot determine the fate of Beffica Winklesnoot yet, however the pages imply insanity to have consumed her by some means.

Investigators have decided that most information inside this diary is not to be considered during the investigation and to instead all be marked down as insanity unless evidence can be found to support it. They will continue searching for evidence around Snaktooth Island in an attempt to determine what happened.

This is [&/:$):?/?/&@] signing off.”

#bugsnax #tori’s art tag #tori’s writing tag #beffica winklesnoot #wiggle wigglebottom #snorpy fizzlebean #floofty fizzlebean #shelda woolbag #gramble gigglefunny #triffany lottablog #wambus troubleham

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vakhiyamusings · 1 year

Text

I Need To Do What?! - Part 6

Part 6 - The Night Before Judgement Day

Anzu's POV:

It was the night before judgement day.

Fortunately or unfortunately, it landed on a Saturday.

Anzu knew she was a nervous wreck. Rio was awkwardly sitting in her chair, watching as she paced like a caged animal.

"Why can't I choose someone? Pretend to date so the council is satisfied?" she asked for the umpteenth time making Rio sigh.

"You know they can detect fake love. Wizards haven't been around for millennia to be fooled by a single human girl," he replied.

"But- but how do you even know you love someone? You can't just force someone to fall in love!" Anzu shrieked, clutching her hair.

"Under the right circumstances, it's entirely possible," Rio muttered mildly, looking at his fingernails.

"You're not helping me at all! Don't you have some jumbo jumbo gadget to gauge my feelings or lack thereof? What is going to happen tomorrow?" Anzu shrieked, shaking Rio till his head lolled like a broken doll.

"Only the council has an emotion reading machine. They will assess your feelings tomorrow," Rio said decisively with a nod.

"Such a thing actually exists?!" Anzu shrieked, feeling a tidal wave of apprehension hit her.

Anzu hunkered down by the side of her bed with her head clutched in her hands.

What was she going to do?

How was anyone supposed to know what they felt?

Especially a teenage who had never once been in love before?

How did people recognize the emotion for what it was?

Anzu knew she was capable of love.

She loved her parents.

Her sweet cat, Momohiki was another object of her affections.

Inanimate objects such as video games and chocolate were never classified under the category of love. They were necessary for her very survival. She needed them like the very oxygen she breathed but in those dark days, she proved she could live without them all.

Everything she held dear was ripped apart from her overnight and she still survived.

Did that mean she didn't love her parents, cat and games that much?

Anzu didn't understand what wizards called love.

Rio did say that the whole point of this endeavor was to increase Japan's population.

Oh. My. God!

"Rio!" she gasped suddenly.

"Anzu?" he asked concerned. He was crouching in front of her, poking her cheek, not that she noticed. Anzu batted his hand away.

"Why are you wizards spending so much time getting me to fall in love? You do realize that not every loving couple in a relationship wants kids, right?" Anzu asked fixing him with a cold stare.

"Uh..."

Rio's eyes widened as he followed her line of thought.

"If this love scheme doesn't work out, what do your people plan to do?" she inquired in dangerously quiet voice.

Rio gulped.

He played with his fingers as he spoke.

"Um, I don't think the council thought that far ahead. Wizards - they can't interfere with your free will. We live long lives and it's frustrating to watch humanity plummet before your very eyes. They just want to make a difference where they see fit. Plus, it gives us something fun to do!" he exclaimed, waving his wand around.

Anzu pondered his words, trying to push the darker images of wizards trying to breed humans like cattle for their amusement.

What did you expect?

She was a Non Heroine for a reason!

Anzu stymied down as she continued her meandering thoughts.

She thought of Tsukasa, Junta, Hijiri and Rio. They were her close friends and she would do anything for them. Hell, she would even help them bury a body and lie in a court of law if push came to shove. Anzu wondered why her thoughts were darker than usual today. She blamed the blasted wizards for their nosy, interfering ways.

If Tsukasa or one of the others left her, it would hurt. She wouldn't mind if she could meet them whenever she wanted and could just talk over the phone. She wasn't that attached to the hip with them, but she truly valued their friendship.

If their relationship was destroyed, if they could no longer remember her, if they simply passed by her in a crowd without a sparing a glance her way or worse, they had no spark of recognition, it would be like getting shot in the heart. Only she would remember their friendship. All their inside jokes, taunts, camaraderie!

It was the cruelest punishment of all!

Anzu spent many days worrying over this mess but she was no closer to an answer than she was before.

"Anzu, why are you on the floor?"

She lifted her head to look at Junta who was peering down at her.

"Hey! Why are you crying? Rio? What happened?" he demanded, crouching down to pick her up. He sat down with her on the bed. Anzu noticed Tsukasa look at her with concern as he sat beside them.

Rio sighed and sat on the ground.

"She's upset because the council is going to decide whether you all get to keep your memories of Anzu or not tomorrow," he replied sounding more down trodden than ever.

Anzu wailed as she heard the words out loud. No matter how many times she heard it, it still hurt.

She closed her eyes at the twin exclamations of surprise. Guess the truth was going to come out whether she liked it or not.

---

An hour later, Anzu was surprised to find Hijiri among them. Secrecy meant nothing when the wizard council was planning to do something potentially malicious to them.

"Let me get this straight. Anzu has to fall in love by tomorrow or we all will lose our memories of her?" Hijiri inquired Rio, eyeing him intensely.

Rio nodded slowly, biting at his hangnail.

"Anzu," Hijiri crouched in front of her, holding her gaze steady.

"Do you love Tsukasa, Junta, Rio and me?"

"I do love you all," she replied without hesitation.

"I just don't know if I'm in love with you. What does romantic love feel like? I don't understand!" she cried closing her face with her hands.

"Do you enjoy spending time with us?"

"Yes."

"Do you like holding hands with us? And the occasional kiss?"

All the guys leaned forward to hear her reply.

Anzu blushed under their scrutiny and closed her eyes.

"Yes."

"Do you have fun with us around? Even if all we do is sit and watch tv?"

"Yes."

"Do you miss us when we aren't around?"

"Of course, I do."

"I'd say that you are ready for being in a romantic relationship with any one of us. All that's holding you back is hurting the feelings of those you haven't chosen," Hijiri replied with a shrug.

"The wizards' plan backfired. She can't move forward because you placed her in a stalemate. You were being thorough by providing her options like an otome game but real life doesn't work out in such a way," he explained.

Anzu, Rio, Tsukasa and Junta stared dumbfounded by Hijiri's simplified explanation.

"The wizards should cut their losses and move to a new subject. Only time will tell how this relationship will pan out in the future. Wizards are not as clever as I would've expected them to be," he went on with a casual flip of his hair.

"What do we do tomorrow?" Anzu asked quietly.

"We meet them as a united front and confront them on the idiocy of their ways. I, for one, will not tolerate for my brilliant mind to be addled by mythical beings," he answered placidly, taking a sip from his cup of tea.

Anzu couldn't believe that it would be as simple as confronting them with the flaw in their plan.

But a girl could hope.

#romantic killer #rio/riri #anzu romantic killer #anzu hoshino #tsukasa kazuki #junta hayami #romantic killer fanfic #ao3 author #fanfic

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