#will roland imagine

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧。◟ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ! — PGR Men x reader

last night, I laid in bed so blue / then I realized the truth!

summary // how do your favorite constructs kiss you?

a.n. - post Valentine's post :D I've been so busy with irl lately, I only just got back on my Tumblr 🫠 how'd your valentine's go?(I had a date with my school project :'D so peinful)

pairing(s) - lee, chrome, wanshi, kamui, camu, watanabe, noan, roland, noctis x f!commandant (and can be gender neutral!) (separate!)

content // suggestive LOL basically how your favorite playable characters would kiss you scenarios~

dividers by @/saradika-graphics!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Lee: Hyperreal

Kissing Lee is like breathing.

Inhaling, in the way his hands are on your jaw, the little smile on your lips when his breath fans yours. Breathing in, the smell of the cologne you've gifted him makes you dizzy in a good way, the softest brush of his mouth on the corner of your lips. Taking in, the taste of chocolate; bitter as the coffee you made the first time, yet morphs into something so sweet as sugar cookies, and you can feel him smiling as your lips meet, savoring every drop he offers—

Exhaling, as Lee pulls away to give you air, foreheads touching, because you are both too intertwined to move away from one another.

“We made quite a mess here,” you giggled.

The newly-made kitchen of the Gray Raven base is as messy as a child's breakfast: pots and pans strung everywhere, chocolates and other liquids splattered all over the counter, the drain is probably clogging for some reason (it was Lee's fault), and there was a burnt cake placed somewhere (your fault) but you both never minded those.

“I told you to let me handle all the baking,” Lee huffs, thumbs unconsciously caressing your jaw, “You had to be so stubborn.”

“I knew what I was doing,” you pout, “You always follow the recipe, even though you could just do some feeling!”

“I am starting to doubt your feelings. Remember the first-”

“-not another word.”

“Okay, okay, I'm sorry to burst your bubble.” Lee smiles at you, hands now placed beside your legs on the table you sat on, “We might as well clean up and just order something else.”

“Nooo,” you whine, tugging on his 'Kiss the Cook' apron, “The last cake is in the oven. It'll be done. I promise, it will taste yummy.”

Your lover laughs, his head rubbing your cheek, “Remind me again why we are baking?”

“It was supposed to be my surprise for you for Valentine's.” You admit, sighing, “You had to come and ruin it.”

Everything feels natural; his body fills in the gaps in yours. His head rests on your neck, your hand on his cheek and hair, his arms on your waist. You breathe in the same air, laughing off the smell of the burnt cake from earlier.

“I'm sorry,” he softly murmurs, his lips lightly kissing your neck, “...at least I get to take you out tonight.”

“Tonight?” Did you have a plan for tonight?

“Yes. I reserved a table for us at the restaurant you like.”

What a surprise. Pulling away to look at Lee's cerulean eyes, you somehow realized something:

“I thought you hated dining outside of our lounge.”

“I do,” Lee purses his lips, before sighing, “but I know we've been busy and you wanted to eat outside. Besides, it's still practical because of the restaurant's offer for Valentine's.”

Ah, this man is so smooth. You already knew that it wasn't just for that reason. Leaning to press your lips into his, you could feel your heart leap out of joy. You could hear the ting of the oven, but you never cared. You only wanted Lee's kiss— Lee's love, in the form of inhaling, taking in, exhaling.

“Commandant,” Lee pulls away slightly, whispering, “the cake-”

“I love you, Lee,” you giggled, hands threading in his hair as you purposely let your leg catch that particular spot that made him shudder, “You're so sly.”

“...You better finish what you've started, Commandant.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Chrome: Glory

Kissing Chrome is needy.

It's hot, it's heavy— his hands that grasped your shoulders, almost afraid you'd disappear if he wasn't careful; yet, still so gentle— his lips on yours are so soft, you feel like you'd melt if he wasn't holding you.

“I missed you,” Chrome mumbles when he parted from yours for air, “I missed you so damn much.”

It's not a common occurrence for the both of you to be away from each other. He was the Captain of Strike Hawk, and you had your own team. But to be away from the public eye, to be in some random corner of the streets, as your heavy breathing mingled with one another and your bodies touching, you remember that you couldn't be away from your lover far too long now.

“I missed you, Chrome, I missed you, too.” You could sob from the intensity of your situation, hands reaching for whatever part of him—his shoulders, his arms, his cheek— “Thank God, I can finally see you.”

“Me too,” Chrome breathes, placing a kiss on the crown of your head, “I couldn't wait any longer.”

“Do you still have more appointments?”

“I do,” he groans, frustration evident on his pretty face, “I still have to meet a few more people...”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” Chrome is the one who apologizes instead, starry eyed twinkling that made you frown instead.

It's always busy and no rest days. Apart from your lover being such a dependable leader, sometimes, your greed makes you want to steal him away. But alas, as you caress his cheek, the cool touch of his skin underneath your fingertips, it makes you lean onto him, lips kissing his jaw.

“[Y/N]...?”

“I missed your touch,” You admit, hands now on his cheeks, “I missed your face. I missed your hands, your kisses— I don't want to be away from you longer.”

Was it your position that somehow made you hot? Or was it the way Chrome leaned more into you, kisses reaching every inch of your face, to your chin, to your exposed jaw— you stifle a quiet moan, as Chrome nips at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, something that you've never touched before, something that was a step closer into your relationship.

“I am trying so hard not to overwhelm you, [Y/N]. I missed you so badly,” Chrome groans, “but finally seeing you, finally being able to touch you...I want to show you how much I missed you, but I'm afraid it'll be too much...”

“Don't stop,” Boldly, you proclaimed, hands running through his hair, disrupting it into a messy one, “Let's go home, Chrome. Show me how much you've missed me, and I'll show you mine.”

Pulling away so slightly, Chrome's turquoise irises reflecting a darker shade amidst the light from the crack of the corner. In between those eyes and your pending responsibilities, you already made your decision. As you feel Chrome's hold on your hips, you pressed your lips to him.

“I hope you'll stay true to that offer, [Y/N].”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Wanshi: Hypnos

Kissing Wanshi is dreamy.

In the tender tones of daylight, the artificial sun bleeding into your skin. There are too many touches all at once, but neither the two of you bother to pull away. Wanshi's lips find your skin without a hassle, humming when you swallow your laughs. He's everywhere— your hand, your arm, your shoulder, the dip of your breasts, your clavicle— everywhere but your face.

“Wanshi,” you purred, never bothering to open your eyes, “you're so needy...”

“Hush, let me dream a bit longer,” your lover sighs in your neck, nibbling your skin, “it's not everyday I get to kiss you like this.”

“We'll both be late at this point. Didn't you say Captain Chrome warned you already?”

“He already put those rules before,” he pauses, yawning, arms now wrapped possessively around your waist, “I'm exempted.”

“I won't be surprised if you get to be deprived of your capsule for another week...”

“Hey, this is about us today,” he murmurs, lightly kissing the side of your neck, “I don't want to hear another man's name in our bed...”

Your lover never learns. But still, you couldn't help but laugh at his antics. It's his problem anyways, not yours. As you giggle, your hand finds itself cupping Wanshi's soft cheeks, squeezing it.

“Wanshi, darling, we really need to get up soon. I also have work.”

You could feel Wanshi pouting against your skin. Without a warning, he gets on top of you, golden eyes looking at you. “Five minutes. Give me five more minutes, and I'll let you go.”

As you were about to ask what he meant, Wanshi leans down to capture your lips with his. You squeak from surprise, but in the end, you couldn't help but submit to his whims. His soft lips, the love that permeates from him, slipping in so deeply into you as you felt yourself buried deeper into the sheets. Your hand finds his, intertwining as he leads it above your head. Forget your job, forget that it's another shitty work day; it's only you and Wanshi, in your bed, and his dreamy kisses.

You love Wanshi, and you'd always pick him, despite his sleepy circumstances, despite everything else.

“Mm...Wanshi, give me more than five minutes.” You mutter, letting your legs wrap around his waist, pressing into him.

“Oh?”

“Yes, nngh, you win this time. Now, give me more kisses.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Kamui: Tenebrion

Kissing Kamui is like catching the sun in both hands.

More like a surprise; playful shouting as he wins another round of your favorite game, leaving you dumbfounded in your chair. You love your man so much that you'd rather see him with that goofy smile on his face. But sometimes, some victories feel like they are being rubbed hard on your face.

“Haha! This is the third time now!”

“Alright, alright,” you shrug, placing the controller down, watching Kamui lead out of his seat, “You win.”

“Does this mean I get to have the seat for a week?”

“A month, too, if you want,” you shrug again, “Congratulations, Kamui.”

It's his playful character that made you fall for him in the first place— a unique laughter, the way his eyes crinkled with delight, how Kamui's feet would curl. But unbeknownst to him, however, you had another trick on your sleeve.

“Time for a free round!”

“No, thank you,” you flutter your eyes at him, “I'd like to see you play for now. I might get you next time if I watch your movements.”

Kamui laughs instead, making your stomach jump, “Babe, just watch, then. But I'm sure that I'll win again like always.”

As Kamui positions, your plan goes into play. He won't win against you, the real mastermind of the game.

Kamui's eyes glimmer as he focuses intently on the game. Somehow, in the middle of scoring another new record, his mind lands on you.

“[Y/N]? You seem qui-”

When he turns his head, he is met with a surprise kiss on his lips. Kissing Kamui always felt like reaching for the sun in your hands, especially this way: the surprised sound from his lips when they met yours, the softest yet so hot as he absentmindedly drops his console, reaching to hold you; Kamui doesn't hesitate to kiss you back with the same intensity— tongue tasting his favorite drink on yours, the smell of your perfume, and the dizzying heat when he refuses the pull away, in spite of your little plan.

You squeak when Kamui gently pushes you onto the sofa, him breaking away to find your saliva strung together on both of your lips. The game plays in the background, forgotten as Kamui straddles you. Looking back at his glinting eyes, you seem to miss this in your equation.

“Really, [Y/N]?”

“Y-you didn't have to- I-I thought you'd-”

“Tsk, tsk,” Kamui laughs, thumb caressing your swollen lips, “[Y/N], you already knew I'd let you win. I guess you'll be getting your present early, then~”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Camu: Crocotta

Kissing Camu is like snow on the beach.

So rare, so sudden. It's the rumble of the vending machine of some unknown brand, dropping a new kind of food. Was it edible?

“So they really did put up these things.”

It's the low sound of Camu's husky voice surprising you on a random sunny afternoon. You quickly pick up the food, presenting it in front of him, “Do you mean this?”

Camu takes the food from your hand. It's a cake in a can, you presume, as it is written boldly on the cover. Squinting his eyes, Camu effortlessly tears off the lid without the use of the safety pin. At this point, such a scenario no longer surprises you.

“A cake in the can?”

“A cake in the can.” Camu affirms, giving it back to you, “It was a staple for the Japanese vending machines back in the Golden Age.”

The little treat (although forced open) seemed cute. Using the spoon provided, you took a few bites. Immediately, a yummy flavor pours into your mouth, making you squeal with joy. You quickly taste more.

“Mmh! It's so sweet~!”

“Yeah, they're usually really sweet.”

Taking a large spoonful, you hold it out to Camu. “Would you like some?”

Hesitant. Camu looks at you, somehow judging you (do you usually hold out food to random people?), yet cautiously leans down to your height. His eyes never leave yours as he takes a bite, even until he gulps it down. Your eyes twinkle as you notice your joy reflected in his, signaling the sweet taste of the dessert.

“What do you think?”

“...it is very sweet.”

“I really want to eat more of this~” you grin, “let me order-”

Camu holds your shoulder, causing you to stop. When you turned to look back at him, focused dark eyes looked at you.

“Wait.”

Camu leans forward, his face inches away from yours. As you feel your temperature grow higher, you only notice Camu's thumb caress the corner of your mouth.

“...you had a bit of cream there.”

Did you only notice Camu's handsomeness just now? Or was it because of the close proximity? His breath is cool on your lips, pretty dark eyes devoid of any harshness that he usually portrays, yet the subtle softness of his features somehow made him look more handsome up close. It makes you want to kiss him.

“I'm sorry?”

Snapping out of your reverie, you blink at him, “Huh?”

“You said you wanted to kiss me.”

Crap. You and your thoughts! You groan, trying to mask your reddening embarrassment, “Ah, Camu, I'm so sorry, I didn't-”

But Camu closes the gap anyways. It catches you off guard at first, but his kiss is cool and warm at the same time, almost felt like bathing in the sea amidst the snow. You taste the sweet cake on his lips, the smell of peppermint invading your senses. It is only a short while, ending as fast as it started. When he pulls away, you find dark eyes reflecting your emotion: curiosity.

“...ah-!”

“Technically, we indirectly kissed already.”

Camu points at the spoon, realization dawning on you. You squeak, trying to assess more of the situation. But Camu, with a small smile on his lips despite the deepening blush on his cheeks, coughs, “...I guess it's time for me to ask you out later during the Valentine's event, then.”

You were about to ask what the deal was about, until your mind whirred back to his initial words.

“I thought you don't like Valentine's?”

“I don't like Valentines.” He said.

“So why...?”

Camu, turning away from you, before looking back with a smile on his face, “I like you, obviously.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Watanabe: Epitaph

Kissing Watanabe is always a surprise.

It's when you least expected it. From the sudden kisses in front of children, to meet ups in the warehouse, and even in random times of the day. Watanabe would always keep surprising you, you almost think it's a routine at this point (God Bless your heart; hopefully his antics won't kill you before your fated day).

However, lately, it's almost not happening.

“Hello, [Y/N],” your lover greets you as he passes by, opting to continue talking to the man beside him. You retract your expectant hands.

“Watch out, [Y/N].” Watanabe calmly catches you by your hips, when a child nearly hits you with the ball. You wanted to reach out, but he was already walking away.

“I'll be taking that.” And gone was the playful kiss on your shoulder, instead, it was a smile on his lips as he took the supplies and left you in the dark. What the hell was going on?

On a random evening, he started to avoid you on purpose.

“Watanabe!” You cried out as you watched him disappear from the sea of people.

It was the nth time of you trying to track him down that day. Tired from running around, you slump against the wall, tears filling your eyes. Your tears began to escape your eyes as the atmosphere around you, despite it being Valentine's, was full of love and laughter.

What did you do wrong? Watanabe is your lover, one you've long promised to be with forever. But what was forever if he no longer looked at your way?

“Miss [Y/N]?”

Sniffling away your tears, you looked up to see one of the Forsaken soldiers. “Y-yes?”

“...are you alright?”

“Y-yes, yes,” you were not, but you still stood up, facing the soldier, “What do you need?”

“Could you kindly come with me to the warehouse? I need someone to inspect the weapons before we head out tomorrow.”

Wordlessly, you follow the construct. Your mind swims in a hazy sea of doubts and self depreciation. Should you leave this place? Go back to Babylonia? You are still welcome there, last time you checked. But the people...

It didn't take a while before you both arrived at the destination. Stepping inside the dark warehouse, you failed to notice that the door behind you closed. As you ran to pry it open, from the corner of your eyes, you saw a lone light shine in the middle of the dark warehouse.

It's Watanabe.

All of your anger rushes to your brain. Your legs move quicker, however, sprinting to reach out to the estranged man.

“You selfish little-”

“[Y/N]-”

Anything Watanabe says is fast, but your reflexes are faster. You held onto his arms, your tears of anger flowing as you cried out.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I know, I know-”

“Do you know how sad and angry I am at you? For leaving me with no answers?”

Watanabe does not answer. He lets you speak.

“Why? What did I do wrong? Why are you ignoring me?”

“I am aware, yes.” He answers, sorrowful, “I am sorry for treating you that way, [Y/N]. I know I shouldn't have done that, but my actions hurt you instead.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Watanabe doesn't answer. Instead, he reaches out to cup your cheeks, genuine sadness reflecting in his expression.

“I have been thinking. And I made up my mind.”

He caresses your cheeks with such reverence, it almost makes you melt. “...being away from you is so cruel. I wanted to make such a heavy decision, to leave you so you could be with another human, but I realized that I was just like you— I would be angry, too.”

Watanabe leans down, your forehead touching, “I want to be greedy for you, [Y/N]. Please, let me make it up to you.”

Suddenly, you were aware of the weight of your words from earlier. You weren't mad; you were devastated. Should this man, the love of your life, leave you, what becomes of you, then?

“Watanabe...”

You tug on his collar, whispering, “Don't go. Kiss me, please.”

Kissing Watanabe really is a surprise. It's fulfilling, in a way that completes you like a puzzle, his warm lips on yours. You love him just as much as he loves you, perhaps more— it's agonizing, it's too much, yet you crave for him; he is all you have. When he reluctantly pulls away, he whispers your name.

The lights of the warehouse turn on. And behind him, a dazzling display of flowers and pictures are shown.

“What-”

“I know it's not much, unlike the luxuries in Babylonia,” Watanabe kneels down, the glittering stone on the engraved jewelry in his hand, “But this is all from every corner of my heart; I love you, my [Y/N]. Please accept my proposal.”

You couldn't hold your tears anymore— from anger, they turned into immense joy. The answer has long been spoken.

“Marry me, my [Y/N].”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Noan: Arca

Kissing Noan is sweet.

Little kisses and noises of joy as you take breaks in between your book reading. It's his warm hand on top of yours, the other busy flipping through the pages. Noan's voice is a soothing lullaby, a gentle lull as he reads the passages for you.

“It's quite ironic,” Noan breaks away from the book, putting it aside as he brushes away the hair covering your face, “I thought you wanted me to read to you.”

There you were, comfortably laying on his lap, watching him with tired eyes. Slightly pouting, you weakly tugged on his scarf, “Noan, why did you stop...”

“My lap isn't very comfortable to sleep in. Let's move you back to your base.”

“Nooo,” you stubbornly shook your head, trying not to let Noan stand, “Finish reading the book, please? You're almost at the exciting part...”

Sighing, Noan picks up the book. Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, one of the books that caught Noan's attention. Driven by your immense curiosity and how Noan was itching to read the story, judging by its summary, you thought it was a nice idea to let him read to you. It's hitting two birds with one stone!

“I don't get how you're so interested in the book,” Noan asks, flipping back to the page where he left, “You're already falling asleep.”

You don't have the heart to tell him you've already read it while you were still in the F.O.S. “Well, I think the concept is neat.”

“The concept of a man who has the body parts of dead people off killing people just to appease his creator?”

You shrugged, “I mean...”

Noan laughs, fingers idly drifting and drawing circles on your cheek, “Just tell me that you're just doing this because you think that I'm interested in it.”

“Are you not?” You turned to catch brown eyes looking at you with mirth.

“In a way, yeah.”

You pondered for a bit, trying to remember the contents of the book. Lifting your hand to cup Noan's cheeks, you huffed, “Y'know, you remind me a bit of the monster.”

Quickly catching yourself with your words (to which Noan laughs), “I mean, minus the killing. Wait, no, I mean-”

“Okay, okay, something related to that?”

“Yes, that.” You grinned, “the monster wasn't supposed to mean any harm. He simply wanted the attention and love from his creator.”

Your lover, in a way, was similar to the monster of the book. Rebuilt and revived, nearly as a killing machine. But does a killing machine have to look this beautiful in the hazy afternoon glow? Noan's lips parted for a bit, before pursing them. Lifting your head, you snuck in a short kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“You're similar yet different from the monster, Noan.” You murmured, closing your eyes as you inhaled his smell, “Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin.”

Noan chuckles, lightly squeezing your cheeks, “and you tell me you've never read the book before-”

“I didn't disagree, didn't I?”

“Hmm...”

“Noan,” you whispered, “Unlike Frankenstein's story, you are never feared, nor despised.”

You kissed Noan. It's sweet— the taste of the cookies you gave, the herbal tea; his lips that were made to kiss yours, to fit; and Noan, who went through too much, was yours to protect forevermore.

“You are loved, even more than your creator.”

When you pull away, deep red tinted his cheeks and ears, which made you laugh. “Well, Noan?”

“Mm...I should stop reading the book since you already know-”

“Keep going, please?” You purred, “I like you reading to me.”

“...mh, fine, you're lucky I like you.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Roland: Flambeau

Kissing Roland is, well, comedic.

He's laughing; the crescendo plays a melodic tune, as he plays his role. Your lover is a clown at this point, laughing manically with every step he takes.

But you love him anyway. You love your clown.

“Roland, dear,” you giggle, “Remind me again what's my role?”

He pauses, before approaching you. “Mi amor,” Roland reaches out to your hand, kissing it, “You are the lead of this play!”

As he continues to play his role, you are sitting in front of him, on a fancy chair. For Valentine's, you half-expected Roland to join the theatre, however, he was here in front of you— with only you as the audience and apparently the lead as well.

“What do I do?”

“Sit prettily there,” Roland winks, “That's your role.”

“Alright. Do I still get compensated?”

“Hush, the climax of this story is now nearly in full bloom.”

With a crisp spin, Roland turns to face you, the spotlight hitting every nice angle he had. In his hand, a single, beautifully blooming rose.

“Mi amor, my love, my light,” Roland began his monologue, “Though it has been a very long journey and story, here we are, still alive.”

Ah, you realized this scene now. The first proper confession.

Roland walks to you, despite his clownish appearance, he genuinely had a sweet smile on his face. “Damned by those who defy our circumstances; from this day forward, I am yours, as much as you are mine.”

He looks at you, with gentle hands holding your cheek, “What do you say, mi amor?”

In the original story, you ran away out of fear. But you were in a new scenario with him now. Smiling, you dragged him to you with his shirt, “Hmm, sounds missing.”

You wink at Roland, “Ah, I know now.”

Without a warning, you closed the gap in between your lips. Roland eases into you easily; grasping at hands, responding to your move. It's still soft, his lips that make you dream of oceans and theatre plays— it makes you want more.

But Roland pulls away, chuckling, “Well, that certainly wasn't part of the script.”

“You kept missing the cues,” you stuck your tongue out, “I merely filled in the gaps.”

“That's my girl,” Roland praises, “My perfect muse, my perfect actress.”

Comedic, in a way that it's the perfect timing. You leaned further to kiss him more.

“Mm, I still have a few ideas you can add to your script.”

Roland's hand in your hips tightened, mirroring your smile, “Do tell, we should execute it afterwards.”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Noctis: Indomitus

Kissing Noctis is wild.

In how he holds you effortlessly in one hand. You grasp where your hands could reach, but you could only breathe in. In how Noctis's voice sends shivers. A melody that echoes so long.

His lips are begging to be with you. It's almost painful.

“[Y/N], [Y/N],” Noctis whines, “Please, let me touch you.”

“We are in a public area, Noctis,” you whisper, aware of his creeping fingers on your pants, “Mmh, it's not just me...”

Your lover was supposed to be a grown man, but who knew his neediness could make him such a needy child?

“Please, please, I promise it won't take long,” He groaned as his fingers rubbed your thighs, “I'll be very quick.”

Sighing, you try to look around you. Making sure that no one else could see, you pulled Noctis closer, lips mere inches away from one another.

“Be quick, okay?”

And you trust Noctis. Kissing him is wild— as if asking to be breathed back to life, he kisses you with such fervor. Never minding touchy hands, it's so hot that you unconsciously opened the buttons on your shirt. Noctis loves hard and harder, the beating of his heart a testament. His tongue on yours, hands everywhere else.

“Thank you,” he cries out, making you throb, “I owe you so much...”

“How about pushing it past my limits today, Noctis?”

Without a word, Noctis slips into you for one more stolen kiss. “You have my word, then, [Y/N].”

Writing this half asleep HAHAHAHAHSHSHA

— starry

#pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #pgr commandant #pgr global #pgr lee #pgr chrome #pgr chrome glory #pgr hyperreal #pgr wanshi #pgr kamui #pgr camu #pgr watanabe #pgr noan #pgr roland #pgr noctis #pgr valentines

[bevebevo]

imagine if roland got a low taper fade

#library of ruina #roland lor #angela lor #2.24 #imagine if roland got a low taper fade

[sm-baby]

Why ya gotta hurt me with baby roland…

Hehe it was just meant to be bittersweet, nothing angsty <:3c Clancy would be hyped to have Roland be real but she's happy with just her baby doll!

Anyway, VIOLENCE!!

Raid!! A group of illagers goes to attack Roland without even knowing he's a doll. Even still Clancy is not happy!

#IMAGINE GETTING MURDERED OVER A FUCKING DOLL #SKILL ISSUE #Clancy #minecraft #mineblr #Roland #art #comic #Imagine a surviving illager comes back to take revenge #and find out that Clancy was protecting a DOLL #like #new fear unlocked

[obsessedobsesser]

I am OBSESSED with the idea of Demon!Aziraphale with his salt and pepper curly hair.

Like, hear me out. Just ✨imagine✨

Or

OR

C'mon. The POSSIBILITIES.

#aziraphale #demon aziraphale #ughhh i just love me some reverse au #roland blum is just so chaotic and such a perfect ideation of what I imagine demon!zira to look like #fml i'm just so into it #good omens #reverse au #reverse omens

[thirdity]

Ultimately — or at the limit — in order to see a photograph well, it is best to look away or close your eyes. “The necessary condition for an image is sight,” Janouch told Kafka; and Kafka smiled and replied: “We photograph things in order to drive them out of our minds. My stories are a way of shutting my eyes.”

Roland Barthes, Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography

#photography #images #perception #vision #imagination #memory #quotes #Barthes #Roland Barthes #Camera Lucida: Reflections on Photography

[kangen-wanshi]

Talking About Other Constructs ft Roland: Flambeau, Lee: Entropy

What sort of reaction will they give if you keep praising other construct in front of him?

Tags: Separate, jealousy, comfort/fluff

A/N: I keep writing Roland Flamingo I don't know why

Roland Flambeau, He Doesn't Get Jealous (lies)

Roland puts on front, fairly obvious about it yet he still seems subtle in doing so.

Others would just think he's being, well, him. But more annoying.

But of course after spending so long by his side, knowing every bit about how his 'act' works, it's not difficult for you to figure out that he, possibly, is jealous.

Obviously enough, he feels and has explicitly expressed that he's better than every other construct Babylonia has to offer, including the Strike Hawks that keep clinging to you, and Gray Raven that seems to never leave you alone.

And then there's Camu.

Camu, just like him, is a Transcendent. He believes that he can overpowered him easily, but when you came back and told him about the scouting mission with Camu where he's just so helpful in fighting enemies in places with intense virus density,

His guts are twisted.

He'd laugh at you even needing Camu's help, at Gray Raven's incompetent that they have to use the help of someone like him, and maybe at you being absolutely smitten over Camu's strength.

Okay, he's jealous. You get it.

Naturally you laugh it off and brush his mean comments aside, but Roland is persistent and petty, so he'll keep pestering you with mean words until he's satisfied.

When you've had enough with his 'teasing', before you can snap at him, he'd grab your hand, pull you towards him with one hand right on your lower back, while the other firmly grips your chin, forcing you to look at his grin and heterochromic eyes.

"Next time, let me execute your command in battle. I'd like to see your own competency. And besides, with me by your side, following your every word, you wouldn't need those pesky birds and insects trying to woo you away from me."

Lee Entropy, Improving Himself

Lee being competitive is normal.

Especially against Chrome.

At surface honestly it seems normal: Him pestering the leader of Strike Hawk, convincing him that you're fine and that his assistance is more than enough.

But Chrome, obviously, insists on helping you and Gray Raven to finish the task at hand. Your smile and acceptance at the Strike Hawk's leader honestly doesn't help with his boiling heart.

That sort of scenario repeats every other day. But at the end of the passive aggressive interaction he's had with Chrome, he knows that he'll be the one who will always stay by your side in the Gray Raven team.

So generally speaking, even if you praise or talk about other constructs to him, he'd simply go silent and nod along. (Would probably scoff if it's Kamui or Chrome specifically).

It's less likely that Lee will get jealous. Instead, he'd probably think that he doesn't give you his best yet.

On a mission where you're forced to separate from him, and end up needing to be saved by another team. Or whenever you overworked yourself without telling him for whatever reason, and instead you went on to ask other constructs.

He'd feel like he's not enough. And that sometimes takes the words out of his M.I.N.D and made him quiet for a long while.

When it reached this stage, you'd have to confront him yourself that he's more than enough. For Gray Raven, for Murray, for you, and for himself.

Hold his hand, reassure him with your words. And perhaps if you're lucky and he allows it, hug him.

He'd rest his head on your shoulder and stay there for a bit. Appreciating you and himself, and creating various possibilities in his M.I.N.D about how he could improve himself for you.

Yes you did say he's enough, but Lee is not himself if he's not constantly trying to be the better version of himself.

And honestly, it feeds his ego whenever he manages to flex his capability to you.

"I'm sorry that I couldn't have done better previously, Commandant. Please let me stay by your side and compensate for the mistakes I've made, and let me improve myself further, by being next fo you, for you."

#x reader #reader insert #les does writing #pgr #pgr imagines #pgr x reader #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven x reader #pgr roland x reader #pgr lee x reader #roland x reader #lee x reader

[july-19th-club]

seven or eight times now ive watched the episodes in which they take the andromache and this is the first time ive realized that during the initial battle, after they board, every time the camera is from dufresne's perspective it's blurrier than otherwise because. he took his glasses off for the fight

#real velma hours #i have a soft spot for s1 dufresne that i dont have for s2 & 3 #part of it is that jannes bore a passing resemblance to a longtime mutual of mine so i feel like im watching someone i know #the other part is . well its like andy whitfield versus liam whatsisface when they were on spartacus #i dont know for sure bc they passed and that's the reason their characters were recast. but the actors have a different energy #from seasons one to seasons two and three. and i really wonder what jannes would have brought to dufresne's betrayal #roland reed's take is extremely bitter and self-preservationist #but from what we did get of jannes' performance i imagine his version would've been more confused and fear-based. jaded/feral #and i always think it really wouldve been something #black sails #q #everything about this battle sequence is a masterpiece. from the shot of joshua getting his false fangs ready to put in #to mr beauclerc's pile of like a dozen muskets up in the crow's nest. because it's 1715 snipers can't reload . he has to shoot #a different gun every time #to the way most pirate media glosses over the minutia of battle or even priacy in general because it's about the vibe the aesthetic #but sails' piracy is a means to an end and so its pirates are just like. guys with jobs #the minutia of their battle sequences even in their comparatively less insightful first season are INCREDIBLe. like o'brien levels of detai #and the camera work in this sequence! even on my thirteen-inch laptop screen where my show is on a nine-inch window #i am right there in it i feel like im watching it in 3d

[unhappy-last-resort]

The Puppet In A Forest (Yandere Roland x GN Reader)

Warnings: forced kissing, bone breaking, drugging, implied minor surgery performed without readers consent, tracking

A/N: I apologize for any stiff writing or grammar mistakes. This was literally just supposed to be this short little 1 AM thing for his birthday and it fucking spiraled into this

Status: not edited

You wade through crystal waters, fireflies twinkling around you like little stars in the night and comforting you ever so slightly, the quiet chirping of crickets in the distance is calming enough to make you almost forget there was an ongoing war outside this place, but unfortunately not enough to make you forget why you're here. The letters you received six hours ago have led you to an rural town in thr outskirts of Kowloong, to a pond with bamboo growing in its edges.

You suck in a breath and steady your grip on your gun. You really shouldn't be here, not for the reasons you're weaving through towering rods of bamboo, anyway. Your heart tussles with itself, one part saying that you should turn back, the other telling you to push forward. Meeting an Ascendant isn't just dangerous to your prestigious position as Gray Ravens commandant, but also physically.

You're going to the coordinates you found inside the Russian dolls Roland sent you and the thought that it's just a trap has never once left your mind. Roland is a trickster, murderer, manipulator, and an actor, there is absolutely no reason you shouldn't have forwarded those letters to Hassen and Nikola, no reason for you to be here alone, and no reason for you to feel a painful tug in your heart when you read the last line of his second letter.

"I'll be waiting for you and gladly accept whatever you have for me, whether it's a bullet, a restraint, or an Activation Date gift."

In your uncertainty, you've prepared all three, your gun loaded and drawn at any potential danger, the restraints dangling off your hip, and a small box of chocolates sitting securely in your bag. It's unconventional for a birthday gift, but you don't have time to look, or make something more appropriate and frankly, there's no reason for you to put more effort in. You're enemies, not friends, and you don't owe anything to him.

You keep moving, the mud of the ponds floor squishing beneath your thigh high boots, the water beneath you littered with fallen leaves from the bamboo above you. Gradually, the bamboo starts to thin out, easing you into a small empty space. There's a rock sitting in the center, bathed by the moonlight as fireflies dance around it.

You can't see anyone, or a sign that anyone was here to begin with, although it's not like you'd find much in a shallow pond at night. You carefully feel out the ground ahead of you before stepping forward, it's easy to fall for the illusion of ground beneath you and end up much more wet than you intended and it'd be much harder to explain your little trip to your team if you came back dripping wet.

You reach the center of the clearing and look around. No one's here, it's just you. The water sloshes and ripples with every movement you make, announcing your presence to the surrounding silence...was it always this quiet?

Plunk.

You whip around, gun pointed in the direction of the sound as you glare into the dark, as if the very darkness itself would somehow lift to reveal what hides inside it. You stay like that for half a minute, ears and eyes straining for movement, but there is none. No more noises, just silence. It's only now do you realize that the fireflies that were here have disappeared, as if they'd been scared off by something, but what could scare a bunch of bugs?

You look around again, re-observing your surroundings. You look down and see these tiny little black dots in the water, confused you reach down and scoop one up in your palm and bring it close to your face.

It's an insect, it looks like a firefly. Your eyebrows furrow and you check your terminal, scanning the air quality...nothing. Punishing levels are low, and nowhere near fatal for a human, and there are no other toxins present in the air. You rack your brains, trying to think of anything that might cause a bunch of bugs to just die like this, but you come up with nothing.

You inspect the bug again, as if there's anything else a simple big would be hiding-

Wait.

There are tiny, inconspicuous little ball joints on each of its legs, and a very thin seam where the body connects to its abdomen, which on closer inspection is just an LED light trapped in a casing. It's mechanical. It's a fake. You've been surrounded by hundreds of mechanical bugs since you came to the clearing, maybe since you first stepped foot near the pond.

You drop it from your hand, it's body making a small plink sound as it falls into the water. You sigh and look up, only to find yourself caught in the gaze of a pair of eyes.

A figure clad in black and white with grey hair stands as still as a statue. His hair is undone and pulled forward, his long locks falling over his shoulders, his eyes glow like jewels in the moonlight, the cool tones of his outfit making his eyes stand out even more.

"Prefiero un minuto contigo a una eternidad sin ti." He whispers, the silence around us making even the quietest whispers apparent. "I never thought you would come. Hah...I thought I'd made myself a fool again."

You sigh through your nose, your grip on your gun is tight, but pointed at the water. In your shock you hadn't pointed it at him, your mind still trying to fathom how many fake fireflies there were and what else around you was an illusion that, you hadn't thought of giving yourself a defensive position. And getting into one now may escalate things.

"You're always a fool." You mutter ruefully, keeping your eyes on his. "Why would you think your enemy would respond to you?"

A grin stretches across his face, growing wider until he bursts into a chuckle. "Well, you did, didn't you? Besides," He pauses, smile dropping into a deadpan. "I did say I wanted to get you out, no matter what. Didn't I?"

"What would you have done if the letters hadn't worked, then?"

Another chuckle. "Oh, wouldn't my little rabbit like to know? Tell you what, if you can win my game, I'll tell you."

Roland starts moving towards you, he moves silently, so much so that if you hadn't seen the water moving you would have thought he was a ghost or a figment of imagination. It was like he was one with the space around him, seamlessly fitting in as if he belonged there- as if he was always there.

You breath, feeling more anxious by the moment as Roland closes in at a steady pace. "What game?"

"It's just a simple question, if you answer correctly you win, if you don't..." He smiles again.

"...What happens if I lose?"

"Hmm....I get to take a present from you." He stops at arms reach from you, smile still plastered on his face and an undeniable glee glinting in his eyes.

"I already brought you one though." His eyes widened in surprise, his smile faltering for a moment.

"You really brought me a gift? Here I was expecting you to restrain me and bring me back to Babylonia."

You watch him for a moment before reaching a hand into the bag at your hip, Roland's eyes flickering from your hand to your face, the flurry of emotions behind them tells you he's as desperate as he is distrusting of you right now. Slowly, you pull out the chocolates and hand it to him.

"Aww, do you really have to be so stiff?" He chuckles, tilting his head slightly, it felt half mocking, half curious as he graciously took the box from you and gingerly opens it.

"Oh my, this is quite a romantic gift. Could it be the Gray Raven Commandant is harboring feelings for an Ascendant?" He muses, feigning shock.

You roll your eyes and attempt to snatch the box out of his hand. "I can always take it back."

He leans back, looking almost offended, keeping the chocolates out of your reach. "Of course not! Anything from you is treated with the utmost care."

"But this is the first time you're getting something from me?"

He smiles, popping a chocolate in his mouth before tucking the box away in his coat. "Well now, should we start the game?"

"You didn't answer my question."

"Is this place real, or an illusion?" He stares at you, smile still on his face as the question hangs in the silence.

"...What?"

"Is it real, or an illusion?"

His expression is indiscernible, emotions hidden behind the thick curtain of a jester's smile. The silence of the area you're in is deafening, the previous chirps of crickets had long gone, leaving you and Roland in a pool of knee deep water, sprinkled with mechanical bugs on its surface.

As much as those things may have been fake, you were certain the rest couldn't be. The lake, the bamboo, those things had to be real. The amount of materials required to do something isn't something Roland would have access to, not to mention the time required.

"It's real."

He looks pleased, too pleased for your liking. "Is that your final answer?"

You hesitate. Are you wrong? Or is that just what he wants you to think? Indecision rips at your mind, your thoughts circling each other over and over, never getting any closer to an answer. Is he playing a trick, or are you overthinking? But he looked so happy when you said it was real, so you must've gotten it wrong, right?

"Uh...No!" You fumble, almost out of desperation. Your answer swings like a pendulum in your mind.

"No?" He drawls, putting a hand to his chin as he watches you.

"No...it's fake." You breath.

Roland raises a brow. "Are you sure?"

You suck in a breath, if you take it back again, you'll just be stuck in a never ending loop of second guessing yourself. "Yes."

Roland laughs and it makes you flinch, it feels especially loud in your ears for some reason. "Alea jacta est. Congratulations, my dear little puppet."

He announces with all his usual bravado as he closes the distance between you two. Alarmed you move back only for his hand to grip your wrist, rendering your hand with the gun useless. You pull at your arm as hard as you can, but you only succeed in earning a chuckle from him.

He pulls you close and before you can realize what's going on you feel lips press against yours in a greedy, pawing kiss. His teeth nip at your bottom lips, his tongue swiping over and attempting to push through your lips. You resist, refusing to open your mouth and using all your strength to break yourself free.

"Quit struggling." Roland grunts and twists your wrist unnaturally, a snap sounding up your arm and you open your mouth to scream, only for it to never make it out into the world and being swallowed by Roland instead.

His tongue explores every inch of your mouth with a fervor that speaks of an untold longing and desperation, an insatiable need that quickly overwhelms you with the pain in your wrist.

You feel drowsy, the edges of your vision blurring as continues his forced affection. You try to fight it, but you can't, your vision fading on a string of saliva between you and eyes of amber and ruby aglow like flames.

You gasp, your heart pounding as you stare at the wooden beams above you. It takes you a moment to realize you're in the abandoned tea house, the one you and your team decided to camp in.

You sit up slowly, your sleeping bag rustling quietly as you move. Your head hurts and you feel woozy just from sitting up, it takes you a moment to realize one of your wrists is bandaged, although it doesn't feel like it was done well despite it appearing to be wrapped properly.

You groan, how did you end up hurting your wrist again? Everything feels so foggy in your head that you can't remember.

"Hey Command- what the hell?" A captain dashes over to you, you vaguely remember his name being Casper.

Ah, that's right. You were sent on a mission to Kowloong to help assist a team that had gone for artifact retrieval. The battle ended a while ago and your team agreed to wait until day break to return to Babylonia.

Casper looks flustered, gently bringing your arm up to inspect your cast.

"Hey, Didi! Get Mao and have him dress a wound the Commandant got!" He yells to the door before turning back to you. "How did you do this? You should've asked one of us to help you if you didn't know how to wrap your injury."

You consider saying something, but instead you give a half-hearted smile and apologize. You don't want to cause them more grief than you likely already have.

An airy chuckle dances in the wind as the transport craft from Babylonia lifts off with its passengers. Pointlessly, Roland waves it goodbye as if you could see it- not like you'd appreciate it even if you did. Maybe you'd even hate him by now, if you hadn't before.

Still, like a fool he clung to the hope that you'd be someone he could count on. No, that's not quite right. Something he could own, a person he could claim for himself and not share with others.

As much as the temptation to whisk you away as you rested unconscious in his arms was deliciously enticing, he would be a fool to think he could protect you from Babylonia's lackeys, let alone in this old frame. Without a doubt the best of the best would come from you and he had difficulty enough with just Gray Raven, and that Kamui fellow and his original have been a pain too. The only way he'd be able to do that now would be to go to Der Meister himself and he made his skin crawl. He would never trust the likes of him with Luna, or you.

For now, he'll just have to settle with knowing where you are. He did his best to make sure everything was sterile when he made the incision, although he was still worried that it might get infected...Oh well, even if it did and that tracker got discovered, there are still others among your things, so it won't be that big of a deal.

"La vie est une fleur dont l'amour est le miel. 'Til we meet again, my dear."

#unhappy writings #pgr yandere roland #yandere pgr #yandere pgr x reader #yandere roland x reader #yandere #yandere punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #punishing gray raven roland #pgr fanfic #pgr fic #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #yandere writer #yandere fic #yancore

[thewritetofreespeech]

roland fortis w/ an old vampire s/o? like she reluctently decided to take him to altus paris for a masquerade ball, and for the first time he sees a giant scar on her shoulder/back, and he's both concerned and curious, but then feels guilty once she tells him it was from the war with the chasseurs. could reader also be a little self-conscious about it?

“Wooow! Look at it all! Everything is so shiny!!”

You grin at you watch Roland look around like a kid in a candy store. You have to agree, Paris was dazzling, but Altus Paris was truly magnificent.

“May I take your coat Monsieur?” Roland seemed to come back to himself abruptly. Remembering where he was, and that he was a guest to this world & already out of place, he suddenly became very shy. He took off his coat and handed it to the man. Fidgeting with his magical mask that was keeping him truly cloaked in a nervous fashion to make sure it was still on.

“And your cloak madam?”

You remove your cloak with much less flourish or nerve, and hand it to the attendant easily. “What’s the matter?” You ask when you turn back to Roland.

“Sh-Should…Should you be showing so much skin??” He whispered. As if someone would hear and realize you were practically naked.

You were, in fact, not practically naked but instead just having your shoulders bare. Still scandalous, for this day & age, but no where near the scandal Roland was adorably, bashfully making it out to be. It was fun to tease the clergy.

“Come on. Let’s get a drink. You do drink, yes? I’ve never asked since we haven’t had the opportunity.”

“I…do.” Roland replied. Face still beet red as you linked arms and headed for the ballroom. “But I probably shouldn’t. Olivier says I get rowdy when I drink. I can never remember. He also says that new born babies have a higher tolerance.”

You giggle again and lead him towards the champagne. “Well then, why don’t we get me a drink and you a ginger ale? It’s all the rage amongst the sobers and mixed spirit drinkers.”

“Another vampire invention?”

“Actually, I think an Irishman made it.”

Arriving at the champagne tower, you release Roland’s arm and reach for one of the glasses near the middle. “What’s that?” You look at Roland with surprise, as his curious expression continued to stare at your shoulder. “You have a scar on your shoulder.”

Panic suddenly washed through you as you remembered the scar in question. You never ‘forgot’ about it, but there were times it wasn’t in the forefront of you mind. And you suddenly remembered why you didn’t like to show skin as well. “It’s nothing. Let’s just drop it.”

“No. Tell me what happened.” Roland insisted, as usual. Following you as you tried to literally leave the conversation. You should have known it wouldn’t work. He was nothing if not persistent. “It looks like an old injury, but a bad one. Were you hurt by someone?”

“Roland, please. Just drop it.”

“Did you fall out of a tree? I feel out of a tree when I was 6 and hit my head. There was blood everywhere.”

“I didn’t fall out of a tree. So please just drop it.”

“Were you attacked? Of course you weren’t attacked. That’s silly. Who would attack someone like you.”

“A chasseur did.”

Roland’s string of uninterrupted questions, more his own mental ramblings than anything, suddenly came to a halt as he looked at you in surprise.

“A chasseur did. During the war….or..whatever they decided was a war, I was attacked. Luckily it was only one and I managed to get away, but not without them shooting me in the back.”

“Coward.” You hear Roland quietly curse.

“Look…it was a long time ago, and I don’t like to talk or think about it. Can we just….enjoy the party?” You down your champagne in one gulp and go back for another.

“Why did you want to be with me then?” It was a startling question, and one you really didn’t know the answer to you. “If someone like me hurt you so badly, why would you give someone like me a chance?”

“Because I like you.” It was as simple as that. His earnestness. His bright light of a personality. Even, though it was perhaps only recent, his ability to change. “I perhaps don’t like your profession, but that is not a person make. Humans have very short lives. They must make decisions for their safety based on limited information and go from there. Usually fear. Which turns to prejudice. Vampire have very long lives, so we can make more informed decisions. Not to say that someone of aren’t still prejudice assholes but….living forever in fear is a very long time to live.” You weren’t sure if Roland understood, but he seemed to accept your answer.

You came back over to him and linked arms. “Would you still like that ginger ale?”

He perked up a little at that, and immediately perked up the minute he tasted bubbles. No, none of them were perfect. Vampire nor humans. But Roland was trying to change and see the world in more greys than before. And, hopefully, seeing the bright lights of Altus Paris for a night would bring even more color into his world.

#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers) #roland fortis #vanitas x reader #vanitas no shuki #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vanitas scenarios #vanitas no carte scenarios #vanitas no carte imagine #vnc imagine #vnc scenarios

[thegracefulwillow]

Roland!! my sweet boy

#vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vnc #vnc fanart #roland fortis #vnc roland #description in alt text #my art #I HAVE NO EXCUSE i wanted to draw pretty eyelashes #honestly though his weapon is cool in concept but imagine fighting with that thing #apart from the fact that you could hit yourself incredibly easily #imagine accidentally pushing the wrong button in battle and your sword just unravels itself #there is some sort of metaphor in there. anyway pretend i didn't say that

[avocado-writing]

Greetings, I am a transmasc with raging dysphoria atm, and I’m having thoughts(TM)

I want Roland Blum to help me try on suits that match his and tell me how handsome I am

I want Martin Whitly to wrap me in his cardigan and cuddle me and call me his ‘lovely boy’

I want Crowley and Aziriphale to kiss me and call me a hunk and reassure me that I am THEIR man no matter what anyone else thinks

Shit I’m in my feels :( /hj

first off I am sorry mate, I feel u

Roland seeing you have suits off the rack which don’t fit well at all, so after tearing you a new arsehole about how bad you look he takes you shopping and has several suits made to your measurements. He drops several thousand on you but it’s worth it because of how good you look 😌

Martin Whitly may be a serial killer. But he will 👏 do 👏 your 👏 top 👏 surgery 👏 and does an amazing job of it too 😌

and aziraphale and Crowley? They’re gnc too. They understand and support you no matter what 😌

#Hope this helps bubba #avo answers #martin whitly imagine #roland blum imagine

[starryficsfinishwen]

✧!。◟[kinktober 2023] ꜱʜᴀᴍᴇʟᴇꜱꜱ — PGR & GI x reader [week 2]

write it on my neck, why don't you?

a.n. - hueheu midterm week this week and so much has/is happening, I'm super sorry for the delay. now you might be asking why they are paired with the other "evil" men, but I assure you: they're all randomly grouped LOL also, I hit 100 followers already, I'm so happy!!! thank you so much!! let's see what I can do, but I can assure that I'll try harder to post more now~ thank you so much ❤️

pairings - ascendants [roland, von negut] + sumeru, inazuma, and mondstadt men [alhaitham, albedo, ayato, diluc] x fem!reader

word count(s) - 400 to 2000+ words heuehueh (you can tell who I'm biased with, welp)

kinktober masterlist

warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. NSFW THEMES: hate sex, corruption kink, orgasm denial, mirror sex, dry humping, shower sex, temperature play, sadism, degradation (bitch), sum praise kink. a bit of pet names (lamb, little lamb). slight bdsm (constraints). oral sex w/ handjob (m!receiving; von negut, diluc). sub!men (albedo, diluc). a little predator, prey? (von negut). STRONG USE OF LANGUAGE.

special mention: banner credits to @/rookthorneartistry, @/cafekitsune

! — Roland: Flambeau [ hate sex + orgasm denial ]

“My, what a sight to see.”

Roland's words were laced with amusement as if mocking you— tear-strained cheeks and quivering lips. His hands gripped your chin hard, caging you in between his arms.

“Shut up, Roland,” you spat out, “y-you're so weak.”

A surge of pleasure makes you choke on your own words. You're in his lap then, legs spread open and hung over his knees. Roland jerked his hips upward, a loud squelch as his dick throbs within your overstimulated walls. You whined softly, feeling the tip nudge that one spongy spot inside of you.

“Me, weak?” His laughter, although it brings you anger, tickles your chest, diving straight into your stomach, “said the girl who actually begged me to fuck her.”

“Roland, I swear to- ah,” you moaned out pathetically, his free hand caressing your clit, “ngh, n-no more...”

“Who would have thought that Luna's little lap dog is actually a bitch in heat, mm,” Roland dawdled out, laughing as he pinched your nub, “oh, did you like that? When I called you a bitch?”

“Fuck you.”

“Am I not doing you that favor already?”

You fumbled with your hands— tied tightly with your scarf —but all you could touch was the cold metal plate in his chest. Your anger bubbles brightly in your chest, yet all you can breathe out is your incessant moaning.

“I should admit: you look pretty when you're spewing nonsense to rile me up.” He chuckled, causing your pussy to flutter around his cock, “But you look the prettiest when you're ever so desperate to be fucked by me.”

When he was done playing with your overstimulated clit, he brought two fingers to your mouth, to which you obediently started sucking. Roland grunted in your ear, the other free hand dragging from your shoulders to your breast, causing you to jump.

“But I do admit, you look too beautiful when you're busy sucking on something else.” Pretty and beautiful is an understatement, not when you're mindlessly sucking his fingers as he toyed with the insides of your mouth, breathless sighs combining with your desperate grinding on his dick.

“Shit,” he breathed, licking under your ear, “squeezing me already. Your pussy is so greedy,” he called your name, voice dripping with sin and lust.

“I hate you,” you moaned out through your bared teeth and his fingers when Roland began to rut into your hips with reckless abandon, “I fucking hate you, Rola- ah, there, please-”

He groaned once more before grabbing you by the hips, manhandling you to the nearest table, uncaring whatever was there. Your chest lay flat on the surface, his hands now gripping as he fucks you on the corner of the table. Too fucked out to care, you moaned out his name as he rammed into you. And he felt like like it was second nature at that point— your erratic breathing, your pussy twitching and holding him like a vice grip. Hissing through your tight walls, Roland pulled out, the tip of his reddening dick teasing through your slit. You whined from the loss of pleasure, the only heaven that he denied you from—

“You've been nothing but a little tease.” Roland sighs, “Guess being a little bitch really makes you a brat, hm? Did Luna teach you that?”

Without a warning, Roland slammed his dick in one swift motion, the impact sending ripples of pleasure throughout your body, a cry of his name catching the both of you off guard. But Roland, he was too cruel for you; he effortlessly brought your hips higher to him, flushed against him. He saw a frothy white ring forming at the base of his dick, and he only laughed more.

“How about I teach little bitches like you on how to behave properly.”

! — Von Negut: ??? [ corruption kink ]

“Did your parents teach you not to stray from the right path?”

Lithe footsteps echo throughout the abandoned chapel. Your steps, unlike the ones trailing behind you, falter as you hear them not too far behind you. You were sure you were careful; you thought it was the priest guarding the chapel, or a nearby construct guard, but as you turned, you were met with unfamiliar golden eyes.

His complexion is human; hair tousled and soft, face relaxed as moonlight seeped through broken stained glass. He wore clothes that you only read from the books you've found during your hunts. And most importantly, the glint of his mask catches your attention.

He isn't from this town.

“Who are you?” You asked, voice trembling as you held onto your bag. He shouldn't find what you've scavaged; it's enough to feed for yourself for the next few days before the harsh winters would come to haunt you again.

“Little lamb,” he spoke, walking ever so slowly to you, “I should be the one asking you that question: who are you? And why are you even here?”

You hold onto your white hood, shifting to let the cape cover you, “I'm...sorry. Is this your property? I promise not to touch anything else. There was a blizzard outside, I found this place by accident. I will leave in a while-”

“-No, you're fine.” The man halts in front of you, golden eyes devoid of any emotion, that you thought he was a construct. “I don't mind trespassers. In fact, I think you should stay until the blizzard outside stops; you'll be safer here.”

“Thank-” you choke a cry, “thank you so much...”

“However, you should tell me; no wanderers would easily find this area. How did you find this place?”

You never noticed that he was closer than he was earlier. A hair's breadth away from seeing the lies you've concocted. You look away, dazzled by his eminent beauty.

“I...really got lost,” you held your breath, “I strayed from the path I was supposed to follow and the snowstorm led me here...”

“Alright, then can you explain the food you've stolen?”

“I didn't-!” you cried out, but the intense gaze he had on you made you shut your brain, “I-I found them...”

“You do realize that liars need to be punished, right?” Stoic expression on his face, yet a dull ache ran through your body and...down there. Punishment? What was it?

“I know you stole from us, little lamb.” he reached out to touch your chin, your hood dropping as your face is finally revealed to the mysterious man. “Bad girls like you need to be punished.”

“I-I'm not a-”

“On your knees.”

It was an order. An order, voice authoritative and firm, that made you sink to your knees, the bag of food forgotten as you dropped them to your side. What was wrong with you? Why did you suddenly drop to the floor?

You squeaked as he approached you, his nether regions closer to your face. Upon further inspection, a noticeable outline was seen, haloed by the broken lights.

“What a good girl, such a good little lamb.” The praise made you throb down there, now confused with the situation.

His gloved hands find themselves resting above his bulge. You swallowed your pride, as he spoke again, “I'm sure you humans have never heard the art of procreation, now that the punishing virus has been rampant. Have you heard of it, little lamb?”

“N-no...” you meekly admitted, yet you knew something related to what he meant, something that your late parents had spoken about, “I haven't...”

“That is your punishment.” He said, and you try to look for some emotion on his face, but cold, lifeless golden irises only stare back at you, “for breaching boundaries that you never should have reached.”

He dips his head low, that only moonlight and you could hear, a shadow overcasting his face, “for straying the path you should have taken instead.”

Your heart thrums harder in your chest— thump, thump, thump, —wildly, as the mysterious man unzips his pants, revealing a long, thick cock, littered with a prominent vein on one side, tip oozing with something sticky. You've been warned about men and their sadistic tendencies, that sex is bad when you're only a young girl trying to survive the storm and the virus. But seeing one, something so large and thick in reality made you question what you've learned.

“Pretty...” you unconsciously spoke, “I-I mean-”

The man only chuckles, “you think so, mm? Well, why don't you use your hands first.”

Shakily, you tried to hold onto the thing. You were very uncertain, but the loud noise the man made only encouraged you to touch more.

It's soft— you noted. Although long, it curves perfectly in your hand, and you try to touch the veins littering across the shaft. He only moans further, and down there, you've been throbbing alongside your heartbeat.

Was this really a punishment? You somehow enjoyed it, rubbing the shaft and eventually toying with the tip of his leaking cock. Suddenly, he grabs the top of your head, pushing it for your mouth to meet his dick.

“Easy now, little lamb,” he chuckled, “You think you could stop at that?”

You whined as he nudged his dick to your mouth, smearing the liquid to your lips. “Open your mouth. Let's see how good you are with it.”

You obliged to his wishes, uncomfortable yet feeling... unnaturally hot as you struggled to take him whole in your mouth. Tears like diamonds form by the corner of your eyes, but when you looked up, his golden irises reflected an emotion that you were familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time—

Lust.

“Good girl,” he spoke through gritted teeth, labored breaths filling the room, “I thought you'd be inexperienced, but look at you.”

He shallowly thrusts in your mouth. You try to breathe through your nose, but his grip on your head, and the dizzying, overwhelming feeling of pleasure slowly corrupts your mind.

And it's something that the mysterious man wants.

You feel his cock a bit bigger in your mouth, and you try to protest, but he quickly pulls away, his dick coated with his pre-cum and your saliva.

“Open your legs, little lamb,” you do as he asked, trembling as you feel something wet dribble down there that you almost whined, “mm, that's it.”

He leaned down, swiftly taking your panties, aware of the thin slick webbing them. Embarrassment fills you, but a new wave of pleasure replaces it with a small moan, as you feel the tip of his dick rub your clit.

“W-wait, sir-”

“Von Negut,” he smiles sadistically as he rubs his shaft over your drenched little pussy, “I want you to call me that while I claim you. That's my name. Try to say it.”

“S-Sir...V-Von Negut...”

“Mmh, that's right,” the golden irises only glint the same as his mask, “that's a good girl.”

In one swift movement, he sinks his whole cock into your pussy, feeling your walls tremble violently as you came on his cock for the first time that night. Von Negut marvels at you, your way to corruption.

“This is your punishment for straying from the right path, little lamb.”

! — Alhaitham: Admonishing Instruction [ mirror sex ]

Once upon a time, you said— quite proudly, to add —that you could take on the Grand Scribe without losing.

“Seems like you've miscalculated,” chuckled Alhaitham, as he grunted into the crook of your shoulder, his breath sending tingles from your tear to the tips of your toes, “you really ran your mouth dry, [Y/N].”

So there you were— split apart on Alhaitham's big cock, legs trembling as he pried them open on his legs, your fingers betraying you as they fumbled to rub your clit and open your hole wider. You whined louder, head thrown back onto Alhaitham's shoulder, refusing to look at yourself in the mirror that he placed in front of you.

“Ngh, no, no more,” you cried out, “y-you're too big, 'Haitham ... s'big,”

“Hm? Already?” He teased you mercilessly, thrusting harder on you, that you heard a loud squelch from where you're connected, “mm, I thought you said you could take me.”

“T-This doesn't count,” you whined, “n-no matter how many times we d-do this...you're just too b-big...”

Alhaitham couldn't lie, not when his ego was stroked like how your pussy enveloped his hard cock. He laughed, fingers aiding your own to rub your overstimulated cunt.

“That's good, isn't it?” He breathed deeply to the crook of your neck, nibbling that one spot that made you shake in his arms, “this pussy is accommodating me just right. I know you can take it more, dearest. I believe in you.”

You moaned, as if answering Alhaitham's mockery. One of his hands grabbed onto your hips, dictating you to his rhythm, causing you to jolt.

“See, this is the problem: I put this mirror in front of you, in front of us, so you could see how beautiful you are when you're busy jumping on my cock,” he tsked, your pathetic whines falling deaf to his ears, “why don't you listen to me and look at yourself in the mirror?”

You didn't listen. Instead, you shook your head, burying your face into his neck. “N-no, don't wanna...”

Alhaitham sighed, his thrusts becoming slower. You whined from the slowing loss, as you were already trying to chase your high. Alhaitham may be a tease, but he's patient and kind — he wouldn't cum unless you listened to his commands.

“Come on, darling,” he taunted, one hand gently holding your chin, “don't you want to cum, hm?”

Defeated, you let Alhaitham's hand lead you in front. By the time you opened your eyes, your pussy throbs.

Were you always this pretty? Looking nearly fucked out, legs trembling, body littered with bites and hickies, and how you looked perfect, slotted just right in Alhaitham's body. His large cock buried deep in your walls, and you were quite sure your pussy was greedily sucking him in, ever so perfectly split apart by him. Alhaitham was the prettiest— broad shoulders and sculpted body towering over yours, caging you just right. A loud moan escapes your lips, and Alhaitham thinks it's the best one, as your walls flutters around his cock.

“You like that, don't you?” He chuckled deeply, leaving another hickey on the side of your neck, “you like it when you see yourself in this mirror, being fucked by me?”

“A-Alhaitham,” you moaned, feeling his cock sink deeper, just nudging that one spot you've been looking for all this time, “f-fuck, right there, right there please- ah, hah-”

“Fuck,” he cursed, impatiently slamming his hips to you, sturdy fingers still gripping your chin to stay still, “we should do this more often, hm?”

“Don't look away; I want you to see how we look when we cum together.”

! — Albedo: Kreideprinz [ dry humping ]

You've always known that the Chief Alchemist of Mondstadt was an eye-candy.

Soft, fluffy hair (Klee said so, while you accompanied her during your walk to Starfell lake,), calculative teal eyes, a gentle baritone that makes you feel lightheaded whenever he talks to you. It's impossible not to fall for someone like Albedo. A man like him, with a life so guarded and clear, would always uphold his image.

That is, until he starts whimpering under you.

Trembling lips and teal eyes looking at you for mercy. You're straddling him— the heat of your cunt directly on his awfully hard and clothed dick, his hands holding your shoulders, and yours on his. How did this happen? You can't remember much; only when your cunt catches the outline of his bulge, that you moaned out Albedo's name, that he whimpers more under you.

“[Y/N],” he breathed out, the cloud of smoke escaping your lips, “m...more, please.”

A haughty laugh from you. You grind at the delicious friction, one that made Albedo moan louder.

“Oh, the Chief Alchemist is asking for more?” You teased, the torchlight behind you granting you the chance to see the strained look on Albedo's face, “I thought you said you're done.”

“Ngh, I-I am,” he muttered, “b-but you're still here...you're still teasing me.”

Your mind is mushed, drowning in Albedo's scent— cecilias and the snow —and you roll your hips closer to him, twin moans from the both of you.

You forget you're an assistant, and he's your boss; right now, in this small space of the cave, you would chase your high with the man you've been pining on all this time.

“Don't you like this?” Your faux innocence is alluring to Albedo, much to his chagrin, “you're awfully hard, Albedo. Do you not want to be relieved from this?”

“Ah, I would, if only Sucrose and Timaeus were not-”

“-Don't say other people's names when we're like this, Albedo,” you hold Albedo's jaw in between your fingers, staring deeply into his teal irises, “I get jealous rather easily.”

You leaned down to kiss him, to which he reciprocated; unconsciously, you grinded hard on him, the outline deliciously rubbing your clit and catches your weeping hole. Albedo groans into your mouth, hips jerking as he comfortably finds the spot that made your knees weak.

Grinding, panting, incessant touches— it's mesmerizing, it's intoxicating; the smell of your arousal clogging his rational thoughts, and the heat of your bare cunt staining his trousers. Forget it then— Sucrose, alchemy, the world; heaven descended and landed on his lap, in the form of you.

Relentlessly, he ruts into you, both your moans swallowed by each other's mouths. Hands tangled in the expanse and gaps of skins that can be reached, reckless abandon to the point of intoxication.

Albedo fits perfectly with you; it makes him wonder what it'd like when his dick sinks into yours?

That very thought sends him to his climax, lips detaching to groan to you, hips jerking uncontrollably as he cums in his underwear. You followed after, cunt sitting on top of the outline of his dick. Both of you try to catch your breaths, content with each other's warmth.

“So,” he spoke after a while, hand slipping underneath your coat, “would you...mind staying the night?”

! — Ayato: Pillar of Fortitude [ shower sex ]

Taking a shower is one of the ways for Ayato to de-stress after a long, long day. Seeing you is also another way.

But having both at the same time? What a perfectly good way to de-stress.

“Archons,” he breathes, “you're taking me so good, darling.”

You moan out in response, arms trembling to support yourself as you held yourself against the wall, Ayato rails you from behind.

“A-are you sure?” you whimpered, “I-I haven't really prepared for this...”

“You're perfect, god,” he pants, lips finding refuge in the nape of your neck, thrusts still going strong, “you've always been a good little wife to me, darling. You need no preparation, I know you'll take what you're getting.”

There's something about today though. Naturally, Ayato is a careful man, he'd never do something like this as he respects your privacy. But you know, the very moment he came home, he was ready to ravage you.

“I've had a terrible day today,” he paused, a slow and careful thrust to your pussy, “you...just you, you clamping down on me is just what I need.”

The shower water drips down to you both. You forget your fingers pruning, you forget how wet you are; just that Ayato is here, and he's fucking you until you can't walk. Just when you thought he can't get any deeper, he raised one of your legs closer to his chest, a loud moan as an answer to his actions.

“A-Ayato...!”

He slung your leg to his arm. His other hand, from your chest, drifts down to your pulsating cunt, strumming on your clit. The coil in your stomach knocks as your second orgasm for the night draws closer, Ayato's dick nudging on the sweet spots that's making you see stars.

“Why don't you cum for your beloved husband, darling? I want to feel you cum first, before I fill your womb with my seed.”

! — Diluc: The Dark Side of Dawn [ temperature play ]

Although he may not admit it, but Diluc's orange eyes glowed in the dark, anticipation and excitement reflecting as you slowly dragged his zipper down ever so slowly.

“Must you tease me this way, love?” He groaned, seeing as you laughed at his demise.

“Mm, maybe?” Giggling, you dragged out his pants even slower, “it's fun teasing you this way.”

“You are cruel.”

“I am a saint,” you grinned, taking the surprise out of your breast, a small container in your hand, “and you are following what I'm saying.”

You opened the container. You are immediately met with the smell of asters and wine, courtesy of Albedo's experiment. It's a surprise, really— how your lover, Diluc, decides to join in on your antics.

“Is that Albedo's new experiment?”

You nodded, “he was using slime condensate as a new form of lubricant. He wanted to copy that consistency, and here we are now.”

“It sounds successful,” he coughed, “are you sure there are no other side effects?”

“One way to find out,” you hummed, grabbing a scoop with your fingers, before rubbing it in your hands, “I'll be testing this out now.”

Without breaking eye contact, you looked at your husband as you carefully grabbed his half-hard cock. Must have been the reaction with the cold condensate and his natural body heat— he throws his head back into the pillows, groaning. It felt...nicer in your hands. His thick cock comes to life, already hard and hot in your hands. Graciously, you rub along his shaft, paying close attention to the prominent vein by the side of it. He groans and growls louder, fingers gripping the sheets. You revel in his actions as you pump him, occasionally rubbing the tip of his reddening long and hard cock.

He looks amazing when he's writhing under you, as if your control was enough for him to feel this way. Your pussy throbs at that thought.

“How are you feeling, love?”

“Mmph, fuck,” he moaned softly, “i-it's cold, but at the same time, i-it's so hot...”

His hips jerk to your touch, as if sensitive. The gears in your head starts to turn, but it's too late— Diluc cums in your hands, a low groan escaping his lips.

Warm, creamy cum overfills your hands. You can't help but grin, the new lubrication extending his orgasm as you pump his dick more.

“Mm, cumming already, love?”

“I-I- uh,” he shook his head, an arm over his eyes, “sorry...it felt so good...”

“No worries,” you beamed at him, lowering down to meet his still-hard cock, “let me clean you up.”

Diluc shot up, only to find you already sucking the tip of his dick, his hips jerking once more as he felt your warm mouth down there.

“Hah, love, w-wait,” he reached out to grab hold of your hair, tugging as you bob your head, struggling to take his whole dick into your mouth, “s-slow down, please...”

Diluc wasn't joking; you tasted the coolness of the lubricant, but at the same time, it lingered with his heat. Your tongue teasingly licks the prominent vein, and Diluc harshly tugs on your hair.

“L-love, wait, f-fuck, hah,” Diluc's cock feels bigger as you try to swallow him deeper, “I-I think I'm coming-”

But you stopped before he could finish that statement. Saliva drips out of your mouth as you catch your breath, staining your nightgown. You look up to see Diluc's flustered appearance— flushed cheeks, labored breathing, and twitching cock. You licked your lips, before taking the container to Diluc's hands.

“Rub me, Diluc,” you spoke, flirty and honest, “I want to feel what you're feeling, too.”

Without hesitation, Diluc scoops with his fingers as you straddled his legs, leaking little pussy presented neatly to him. Your lover growls, as he lightly smears the lubricant across your cunt, your moans intertwining with his. You felt the cold seeping through your hot skin now, and it makes you want more.

You quickly slid and grinded your weeping cunt along Diluc's shaft, your moans and his getting louder as you feel pleasure builds up faster than ever. You looked deeply into Diluc's warm eyes, as you aligned your pussy to his hard cock, entering into you in one fell swoop. Cold and hot lingers— outside and inside of you, as you felt his cum fill your womb. Diluc growls in your ear, and it makes you grab onto his shoulders, nails digging deep there.

“Let's see how many times we can come from this, darling.”

please like, reblog, comment if you likey! please don't copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission!

-ˋˏ starryficsfinishwen ˎˊ

#pgr #punishing gray raven #punishing gray raven imagines #pgr commandant #pgr roland #pgr vonnegut #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin alhaitham #genshin albedo #genshin ayato #genshin diluc #kinktober 2023 #pgr smut #al haitham smut #ayato smut #diluc smut #albedo smut #vonnegut smut #roland smut

[local-lamppost]

After the mission

Spoilers for the latest chapter

I’m not too sure how many people have had this thought, but I think Twilight will give up being a spy and embrace the identity of Loid Forger; and I’d like to thank the new chapter for supplying me with exactly I’d like Loid to be after he quits the spy game.

Twilight’s whole shtick is coming up with stories and making masks to fill the roles, so him becoming an animator/writer/comic would be a way to peacefully use those skills. I’m leaning more towards a comic writer/illustrator. 

Franky would be his PR/printer/editor etc. and go on to have their own studio. I’m imagining something like Mirage Comics, where it’s just the two spit balling ideas until an unanimous “THAT’s IT!” moment.

I’d just love to have Loid living a fulfilling and truthful life, where all the lies and deceptions aren’t ‘for the mission’ but for whatever he’s writing.

And of course Anya is his biggest critic and his biggest fan.

Also, this has got to be one of my favorite panels

#spy x family #sxf #loid forger #twilight #anya forger #franky franklin #bond would of course be the mascot for the company #mickey mouse who? #comic writer loid #illustrator loid #imagine twilight going from a spy's allias to a pen name #or Roland Spoofy #sxf ch 68.1 #spoilers

[raamitsu]

MY BABY ROLAND IS CRYING IN THE NEW CHAPTER AND PEOPLE SAID HE WAS GIVING UP ON ASTOLFO NOOOOOOOO MY BABY NOOOOO 😭😭😭😭😭

#NO LISTEN- NO NO NOOOOO HE CANT DO THIS TO ME HE CANTTTT #HE TRIED HIS ABSOLUTE BEST I HOPE HE KNOWS THAT #BUT I COULDNT IMAGINE WHAT WOULD HAPPENED IF HES TRULY GIVING UP ON HIM LIKE THAT POOR BOY NEEDS HIM MORE THAN ANYTHING 😭 #ROLAND MY CUTIEPIE HONEY I WANT TO HUG U SO BAD #vnc #vanitas no carte #roland fortis #vnc spoilers #vanitas no carte spoilers

[thirdity]

The signification of the myth is constituted by a sort of constantly moving turnstile which presents alternately the meaning of the signifier and its form, a language-object and a metalanguage, a purely signifying and a purely imagining consciousness. This alternation is, so to speak, gathered up in the concept, which uses it like an ambiguous signifier, at once intellective and imaginary, arbitrary and natural.

Roland Barthes, Mythologies

#myths #mythology #meaning #language #imagination #emptiness #quotes #Barthes #Roland Barthes #Mythologies

[lawabidingcinnamon]

You gotta imagine Izzy and Brennan developed their crazy doctor characters at the same time. Citizen Doctor Abraham Merhermblur and disgraced scientist Dr Aleksandr Astrovsky are for sure from the same vein of crazy

#Dimension 20 #Dr Aleksandr Astrovsky #Abraham Merhermblur #Citizen Doctor Abraham Merhermblur #imagine a conversation between these two characters #brennan lee mulligan #izzy roland