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#like it's incredible how quickly things spiral out of control
lustfulslxt · 6 months
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Spoiled Rotten - Chris Sturniolo
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summary : chris spoils you like no other and you show him how grateful you are
warnings : chris basically being a sugar daddy, swearing, m! oral, p in v, breeding kink, probably some other shit idk
a/n : hii, it’s been entirely too long. i’m kinda rusty but i hope this makes up for it!!
Getting everything you’ve ever wanted, even without having to ask, is something you never would’ve imagined for yourself. You’ve always had to work so incredibly hard for even the smallest things. Hell, you’ve had to work two jobs since you were old enough to work, just to be able to afford your bills.
Having a deadbeat father and a mother who had passed always made your life hard. It was up to you to keep things afloat. Keeping the bills paid, the kitchen stocked with groceries, the house tidy — it was all up to you, on top of having to keep your grades up to avoid the wrath of your absent yet, for some reason, still abusive father.
After your mom died, everything went downhill. Your father spiraled out of control. Because of his own wrongdoings, he took his anger out on you. He lost his job, gambled away the majority of your family’s savings, and spent the rest of it on alcohol and drugs. He made it all out to be your fault. If you hadn’t stepped up and started working your ass off, you’d definitely be living on the streets right now.
So, from where you were only a few years ago, to where you are now — you never would’ve pictured having any and everything you could ever want. Especially, from someone else’s wallet.
Chris’ wallet.
Your boyfriend knew of your previous struggles. He’d been your best friend since you were in elementary, so he witnessed what you had to do to get by. He’d beg and beg for you to just let him help, but you’d always refuse. If your own father can’t take care of you, why would you expect someone else to?
However, after so long, Chris ignored your reluctance and was quick to pamper you. Quick to provide for you. You’re everything to him, and he wants to make up for your sorry excuse of a father.
He moved you in with him after being together for two years. He doesn’t let you pay for anything. Him and his brothers keep the bills paid, as well as food in the kitchen. Anything to do with money, he’s got covered. And he still makes sure to spoil you rotten. Yet, not without a complaint from you.
“Chris!” You pouted, “Will you put your damn wallet away?”
Instantly, he’s shaking his head, “No. I don’t know why we have to keep going over this. Whatever you want, I’m getting. So, stop complaining and accept it.”
“But-“
He’s quick to cut you off with a peck to your lips. When you huff, he only grins and wraps an arm around your waist, continuing your stroll through the store.
Chris is extremely observant, and he knows you. He knows you like the back of his hand. So, when you turn away from something too quick after checking the price tag, he knows it’s something you like. You’re trying to throw him off and act uninterested in the entire store, but he can read you better than anyone.
So, while you’re off browsing through everything, grabbing the few things that you can afford, in hopes of talking him into letting you pay for it, he’s backtracking and grabbing your size in everything you took a liking in. By the time you make your way to the registers, Chris is already swiping his card.
Upon seeing the multiple bags on the counter in front of him, you can’t help but frown. You slowly turn around, heading to put the few shirts you had grabbed back. There’s no use in trying.
When you head back to Chris, he’s eyeing you with furrowed eyebrows. You walk next to him and he’s looking between you and the rack you were just at.
“Did you want those?” He asks.
You quickly shake your head, “No.”
“Are you sure? I can-“
You instantly loop your arm with his and drag him to the exit. You’re extremely grateful, but you can’t help but a little guilty because he spends so much money on you. You don’t want him to feel obligated just because you had a shitty past.
However, that’s far from how he feels. He just loves and adores you, and wants to give you everything you could ever want.
On the way home, Chris has your hand in his while he drives. Your eyes never leave him as you’re deep in thought. Thinking of everything he’s ever done and continues to do for you makes you so happy you could cry. You just want to show him how appreciative you are.
Pulling up to the house, you notice a big box sitting in front of the door. You furrow your eyebrows for a second, before concluding one of the boys must have ordered something. Once you both get out with the few bags, you head over and Chris picks up the box with a giant smile on his face.
You can’t help but smile at his smile, “Is that for you? What did you get?”
His eyes twinkle as he looks at you, “You’ll see.”
You give him a quizzical look before following him inside. Rather than stopping at the kitchen, he goes straight down to your shared room, so you follow him.
He places the box on the floor and is quick to open it. You set your bags down on the desk chair and walk over to him, your brows raised with curiosity. As soon as he gets the box open, he smiles widely and gestures for you to look and rummage through. Which you do. What you see has you gasping.
“Chris! You did not…”
He proudly nods, “I did, baby.”
Inside the box are numerous purses, shoes, fragrances, and several boxed skincare products. All things you had in your online cart. Things you never actually planned on buying, for the prices are too expensive, and you were only having a little fun.
Your heart swells at the gesture. He’s always doing the absolute most for you. There’s never ever been a time where he’s denied you of something you want, especially if it comes with a price tag.
You turn to Chris, a downward smile pulling to your lips as you look at him. He smiles back, only bigger and brighter. You take his hands in yours and yank him into you. Your lips meet his in a soft kiss. When he pulls away, you’re left chasing his lips for another. Passionately kissing him, until you’re both left breathless.
As soon as you part, you’re pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He falls with a bounce and wide eyes as he stares up at you.
Before he gets a word out, you’re straddling his lap. “You’re always so good to me. Let me be good to you.”
It takes seconds for Chris to start growing beneath your center. You lick your lips and lean forward, diving into a feverish kiss. His hands quickly meet your back, rubbing up and down, and along your sides.
You hum against his lips, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body. Your hands move from his face to his hair, sharply tugging on it, eliciting a groan from him that makes your heat throb.
You pull away, your breathing shallow as you tug at the hem of his shirt. He leans up to assist you in removing it, before taking your lips in his again. Your hands instantly meet his bare torso, touching along his pecks and running your hands down his abdomen. His skin is hot beneath your fingertips and it stirs something inside of your stomach.
Your tongues dance together, moving in perfect sync with one another. The kiss gets sloppy, saliva coating both of your mouths. Chris is now rock hard beneath you, and you can’t help but grind against him, the two of you moaning into the kiss.
Your hands travel down his stomach, hooking onto his belt. Without parting from him, you undo his buckle and pull the belt from the loops of his jeans.
“God, you’re so hot.” He groans against your mouth.
You grin and push him back, his hair fluffing as his head hits the pillow below him. Your fingers grasp the button on his pants and quickly part it, slowly sliding his zipper down. He bucks his hips into your hands, desperate for more friction.
You lean forward, whispering in his ear, “Easy baby.” You place a kiss on his neck, causing him to shudder. “Promise I’m gonna make you feel so good.”
With one last kiss to his lips, you remove yourself from his lap and kneel beside him. He lifts his hips up to help you pull his pants down, his boxers following shortly after.
His cock stands tall, fully erect. Precum dribbles from the tip as his veins practically throb. Your mouth is watering at the sight. You take him in your palm, gripping softly. He takes in a sharp breath at the feeling, already fisting the sheets.
You stare into his eyes, puckering your lips, and push forward a jewel of saliva. It falls onto his head, trickling down his length, causing his mouth to fall slack as he takes you in.
You never cease to amaze him. Looking so innocent, but about to swallow him whole. He loves everything about you, especially the way you wrap your mouth around him.
Your tongue flicks over the slit of his tip, causing him to let out a small groan. You smile and wrap your lips around his head, sucking softly.
“Fuck..” He whispers, breathlessly.
Letting your mouth salivate even more, you continue teasing him. His breathing is erratic, eyes wide as he watches you. He so badly wants to shove his dick down your throat.
Luckily for him, you stop with the games and take him into your mouth. You force yourself down to the base, your nose pressing into his pelvic bone. He lets out a throaty moan at the feeling of his tip digging into the warm walls of your throat.
You flatten your tongue and begin bobbing your head up and down, working his cock the way he loves. Occasionally humming around him, pulling more moans from his pretty mouth.
“So fucking good.” He groans, bucking into your mouth.
His hands entangle in your hair as you look up at him and give him the slightest nod, keeping your mouth on him. His grip on you tightens, holding you in place as he begins thrusting in and out of your mouth.
The sounds of wet gagging fill the air, topped with his moans and groans. Your eyes prick with tears before they’re soon falling down your cheeks. Your face is flushed and stained with mascara streaks, drool falling down your chin. Chris can’t help but think you look the prettiest you’ve ever looked as he fucks your throat.
Your hand cups his balls, softly massaging them. His moans grow louder from the sensation, his orgasm approaching rather quickly from the combined stimulations.
His thrusts into your mouth grow sloppy and disorganized. His stomach tightens and his arms flex as he’s pushed over the edge. His hands push you into his dick, holding you in place as it bulges through your neck. He tosses his head back with a lewd moan leaving his mouth, his cock simultaneously spilling down your throat. It’s warm as it smoothly coats your throat, almost like honey when you’re sick. You love every bit of it.
Licking around his member, you pull your lips from him, making sure to suck every bit of cum from him. He groans at the sight of you swallowing every drop, and instantly pulls you up to him with a rough grip on your jaw.
He smashed his lips on yours, kissing you deeply and hungrily. Your pussy throbs for more, aching to be filled with his cock. It only takes a few seconds before he’s flipping you over.
He kneels between your thighs and tugs at your shirt, swiftly removing it. You bite your bottom lip in excitement, ready for him to fuck your brains out. His hands are quickly at your shorts, tugging them and your panties off in one motion. Him being eager to be inside you has you clenching around nothing.
His hands grope your bare tits, squeezing them in his palms. Your soft moans only encourage him. One hand goes back and forth between them, tweaking your nipples. His other hand slides between your legs, running through your folds.
He hums, “So wet already. Does sucking my cock turn you on? Hm?”
You only nod, your bottom lip still pressed tightly between your teeth.
“Mm, such a good little slut for me.”
You whine at his words and push your core into his hand, desperate for more. He pulls away from you, his hand suddenly coming down on your pussy in a quick motion, causing you to yelp as your body jerks. Your arousal only leaks more than it was. To which he notices.
He pouts, “Aw, you like that? You want it rough, don’t you?”
Your head quickly shakes up and down, whining as he rubs your clit. “Yes! Please, please. Want you to fuck me dumb.”
It didn’t take much for Chris to become fully erect again. You always do it for him. The second he kissed you after you swallowed him, he was growing again. That’s something you both love. Sometimes, you can go round after round.
He takes hold of his dick and runs it along your pussy. You whimper from the feeling, slightly grinding down into him. After a few teasing touches, his cock his saturated with your juices, making it easier to slide into you.
Your walls stretch around his girth in such a painfully pleasurable way. Your breath is stripped from your lungs as he bottoms out. You’ve never felt so full. His breath staggers from above you, loving the way you hug him so snugly.
He waits for you to adjust, and once he feels you aren’t so tense, he begins rocking in and out of you. Soft moans leave your lips as your hands run up his arms and grip his biceps. He leans down and presses a few kisses to your hand before picking up the speed.
“You feel so fucking good.” He moans, his strokes deep and hard.
Your mouth falls open, continuous moans emitting from it as your eyes roll back while your head falls to the side. Chris nudges your head to the side and attacks your neck with wet and sloppy open mouthed kisses. His hand suddenly wraps around your throat, applying a great pressure as he pushes himself up. His opposite hand grips your tit before smacking it, causing you to moan and clench around him.
“Look at me when I’m fucking you.” He grits, his hips snapping into yours with a strong force.
You want to look, but you can’t. Your eyes are practically stuck rolled into your head. You can hardly breathe with how hard he’s fucking you. Before you can even try, his hand slaps your face. Not enough to cause damage, but enough to feel the remaining sting. You can’t help but gush around his cock, loving every bit of it all.
You forcefully put your head down, eyes straining to focus on him. And boy are you glad. His hair is slick against his forehead, his skin glistening with a sheen layer of sweat. His cheeks are flushed a rosy pink color, his lips plump from your previous make out. His brows are furrowed in concentration and his entire face is struck with absolute pleasure. He looks like a dream.
You reach your hand out to caress his face and he leans into your touch. You love that he can still be sweet while completely wrecking you.
“Tell me how you feel.” He groans as he fucks in and out of you.
You bring your bottom lip in between your teeth, biting hard to control your moans. Though, it doesn’t work as your jaw drops and loud cries fall from your mouth.
His hand meets your jaw, slightly jerking to snap you out of the blissful trance he’s put you in. His eyes are dark as they bore into you, reiterating with every thrust, “Tell me. How you. Feel.”
Your face contorts in pleasure, sobbing out in between thrusts, “Mm, so good. F-feels sooo good, baby.”
“Such a good girl for me.” He coos, breathlessly.
Your mouth falls open, silent moans leaving it as he fucks into you. You’re on cloud nine. Your body feels on fire as pure bliss floods your veins. You can’t help but repeatedly clench around him as your climax nears. Your face contorts in pleasure, nails digging into his arm, leaving behind crescent shapes in his skin. The knot in your stomach tightens before unexpectedly snapping. You clench around his cock, your juices saturating him as you come undone.
He moans at the feeling, burying his face in your neck as he drops down again, digging into you deeper and deeper. “Gonna fill you up, ma. You’d like that, yeah? Give you my babies? Just wanna have even more to give you, you drive me fucking crazy.”
You soak in his words as you come down from your high, your legs immediately wrapping around his waist, pulling him into you. He smirks at your action, pressing a few sloppy kisses on your lips.
“Yeah, I knew you’d like that.” He moans as his thrusts grow erratic and out of rhythm.
His grip on you tightens, surely leaving behind purple finger shaped bruises. He buries cock into you, loudly groaning as he fills you up. He keeps fucking into you, determined to give you all he’s got. As soon as he can’t take it anymore, he pulls out and collapses beside you.
The two of you lay there, sweaty and panting, trying to recover from your intense orgasms. You both meet eyes, silly grins pulling to both of your faces. Neither of you have ever loved someone more.
Before succumbing to the exhaustion he felt, Chris perks up and leans over to his bedside table. “Oh, I got you one more thing.”
He turns back to you with a small black bag in his hand, offering it to you with a bright smile. You look at him with a pout, before taking the bag.
“When are you gonna stop with this?” You question, cheekily adding, “Aren’t your kids enough?”
He chuckles at you, “Just open the bag.”
So, you do. Inside it is a small black wallet — a wallet that is known for being one of a kind. Its intricate patterns are displayed along the material, the infamous logo engraved in the corner. You open it up to further examine it, your brows furrowing at what’s inside. Upon retrieving it, you look at Chris with a deadpan expression. His black credit card.
He smirks at you, “Yours now baby. No limit, so don’t even bother asking before you swipe it.”
a/n : ughh, okay so tbh i rushed the ending bc i ended up losing half of what i had since my cellular device is a literal piece of garbage. anywho, fingers crossed this was enjoyable lmaoo. it’s gonna take a minute for me to get back into things! missed you guys tho <3
taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @chrissfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn @knowingnothingnoel @luverboychris @remussbitch @stunza @rootbeerworshiper @dracoflaco @strnlsblog @venusbabysblog @domaniquessidehoe @mattslolita @junnniiieee07 @pepsienthusiasts @gamermattsgf @cupidsword @iloveneilperry @leprechaunbirthdaygirl @luul223 @matt444nixi @sturniololol
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wilted-society · 4 months
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playing with fire
pairings: mattheo riddle x reader
genre: fluff + angst
warnings: suggestive ending, cussing
— mattheo's flirtiness couldn't be held back. You decided you were fed up with it.
Hogwarts hummed with its typical vibrancy, the old stone corridors filled with the noise of students' chatter and sporadic laughter. Despite the lively surroundings, you were preoccupied with a recent confrontation with Mattheo. Your relationship, marked by a fiery mix of passion and intensity, had taken a toll on you, leaving you especially shaken and uneasy after this latest disagreement.
With a heavy heart, you strolled your way through the great hall. Stopping to sit down beside Pansy, who took notice of your unusual behavior.
"What's the matter? You usually sit next to Riddle?" Pansy questioned, seemingly oblivious but quickly realized as she noticed the tension between you two. "Oh.. Is it bad?" She whispered, to which you only replied with a weak nod.
On the other hand, Mattheo, who was sitted beside Theodore, looked your way for a moment and then went back to his food. Playing with, barely even eating any of it.
"What's happened? She usually sits right next to you." Theo furrowed his eyebrows, looking between you and Mattheo. Immediately noticing the tension. "I fucked up." was all Mattheo said, before turning back to his plate and played with his food. Theodore urged him to tell what was the reason, kept pestering him until he finally told Theo.
The fight had stemmed from a misunderstanding that quickly spiraled out of control. Mattheo had been spending more time with his Slytherin friends, particularly a girl named Cassandra, who had a reputation for being overly flirtatious.
Y/N had confronted Mattheo about it, her insecurities bubbling to the surface.
"Why do you keep spending so much time with Cassandra?" Y/N had demanded, her voice tight with jealousy. "She's all over you, and you don't seem to mind."
Mattheo had frowned, clearly taken aback by her accusation. "Cassandra's just a friend, Y/N. You're overreacting."
"Am I?" Y/N had shot back, her frustration growing. "It feels like you're pushing me away. Like you don't care about how I feel."
Mattheo's eyes had darkened with anger. "That's ridiculous. You're being paranoid. I can't have friends without you thinking the worst?"
The argument had escalated, each of them saying things they didn't truly mean. Mattheo had stormed off, leaving Y/N feeling a mix of anger, hurt, and regret. The wounds from their fight still stung, and she couldn't shake the feeling that their relationship was on shaky ground.
"Yeah you fucked up," Theodore patted Mattheo on the back, "better make it up to her then." Theo said before turning back to group, to which Mattheo sighed.
.
"I swear, Luna. That guy will be the death of me. He was basically eye-fucking that Cassandra, flirting with her like he doesn't have a girlfriend!" You ranted to Luna Lovegood, who was intently listening to you rambling.
Luna, perched on a windowsill with her legs crossed, watched you with her usual calm demeanor. Her big, silvery eyes were filled with empathy and a hint of concern. "That sounds incredibly frustrating, Y/N. Have you tried telling Mattheo how you feel?"
You stopped pacing and turned to face her, your frustration palpable. "I did, Luna. But he just brushed me off, saying I'm overreacting. It's like he doesn't even care how much it hurts."
Luna tilted her head, considering your words carefully. "Sometimes people act out in strange ways when they're dealing with their own insecurities. Mattheo might not realize how much his actions are affecting you."
You threw your hands up in exasperation. "Well, he needs to realize it, Luna! It's like he's purposely trying to get a reaction out of me. And it's working. I don't know how much more I can take."
Luna slipped off the windowsill and walked over to you, her movements graceful and serene. She placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "Maybe he's trying to provoke you because he's unsure about his own feelings. Or maybe he's testing the boundaries of your relationship. Either way, you deserve honesty and respect."
You felt a lump forming in your throat, and tears threatened to spill over. "I just... I love him, Luna. But this is tearing me apart. Seeing him with her, laughing and flirting like I'm invisible... it hurts so much."
Luna's expression softened even more, and she pulled you into a comforting hug. "Love can be very complicated, Y/N. But you are strong, and you deserve someone who makes you feel valued and secure."
You hugged her back, feeling some of your tension ease in her calming presence. "What should I do, Luna? I don't want to lose him, but I can't keep feeling like this."
Luna stepped back and looked into your eyes, her gaze steady and wise. "You need to have a serious conversation with Mattheo. Tell him exactly how his actions are making you feel. If he truly cares for you, he'll listen and make an effort to change. If he doesn't, then you need to consider what's best for your own well-being."
You nodded, wiping away a tear. "You're right. I need to be honest with him and with myself."
Luna smiled, a soft and reassuring expression that made you feel a little lighter. "And remember, you always have friends who care about you. You're never alone in this."
"Thank you, Luna. I really needed to hear that," you said, your voice steadier now.
"Anytime, Y/N. Let's go for a walk by the lake. The fresh air might help clear your mind and give you the courage you need to face Mattheo," Luna suggested, her hand still gently resting on your arm.
You nodded, grateful for her support. "That sounds like a good idea."
.
"Goodnight, Luna!" You bade your goodbyes to Luna, parting ways as you strolled through the winding corridors on your way to the Slytherin dungeons.
The dim torchlight illuminated the path ahead, and the castle seemed almost alive with its shadows and quiet reverberations.As you quietly strolled, you heard a voice call out your name.
"Y/N!" It was him—Mattheo Riddle. The same voice that always had the power to make your heart race, the one that whispered sweet nothings to your ear. But tonight, his voice only stirred up more anger and heartbreak.
You chose to ignore him and kept walking, determined not to give in. "Y/N! Please, can we talk through this?" he begged, his footsteps echoing against the stone walls as he hurried to catch up.
You paused and turned to face him, a cold glint in your eye. "You better be." You narrowed your eyes at him, still furious and heartbroken.
Mattheo ran a hand through his hair, his dark eyes filled with a mix of desperation and regret. "I know I messed up, Y/N. I didn’t realize how much it would hurt you.”
Your heart wavered slightly at the sincerity in his voice, but you quickly regained your resolve. “Actions speak louder than words, Mattheo. You flirt with other girls and brush me off. How am I supposed to believe anything you say?”
He took a step closer, his presence encroaching on your space. “I’ve been an idiot, Y/N. I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just—I’ve been dealing with my own insecurities, and I wasn’t thinking straight.”
You felt a surge of frustration and sadness, but deep down, you still cared for him. “You have a funny way of showing it, Mattheo.”
He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “I’m sorry. I never want to lose you. I just need you to understand.”
The touch of his skin against yours sent shivers down your spine. It was a soft caress, a brief moment of tenderness amidst the chaos. You felt torn between wanting to push him away and craving the intimacy that only he could provide.
His dark eyes bore into yours, his voice low and intense. “Let me make it up to you, Y/N. Let me show you how much I care.”
Your breath hitched at the suggestion, and you felt a twinge of desire creeping into your thoughts. “Show me?” you murmured, your voice betraying a hint of vulnerability.
Mattheo’s hand slid from your cheek to the small of your back, pulling you closer. “Yes. Let me prove to you that I’m worth it.”
He leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, heated kiss. You could feel the tension in his body as he deepened the kiss, his hands moving to caress your waist. A shiver ran through you as his touch lingered on your skin.Your resistance melted away as you responded to his kiss, feeling the need to be close to him. It was a soft, heated moment that made you forget the pain of the past few days.
Breaking the kiss, Mattheo rested his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your lips. You smirked, an idea—rather suggestive, came up in your head. "Lead the way, then."
And with that, Mattheo wasted no time dragging you both into his room. His smile was visible as he sprinted immediately to prove himself.
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selene-writes · 1 month
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You-Me-Us
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AHHHH Hey guys! There's lots of Logan craze on here thought I would try writing. Should this be a series? Its short and there's lot of places to go from here.
You had known Logan for fifteen years—technically, that had been your entire life, or at least as much of it as you could remember. Your earliest memory was of his face peering down at you with a mixture of concern and relief. You were in some sort of ruined laboratory, your body aching with a pain you couldn’t fully comprehend. You didn’t even know your own name at the time. Instead, you went by Artemis, a name you had chosen for yourself, though Logan often called you "bub."
Like Logan, you were a mutant, endowed with the gift of regeneration. This ability made it impossible to determine your exact age. In addition to your regenerative powers, you possessed the unique ability to manipulate atoms. This rare skill granted you control over all elements, a power that made you incredibly unique and powerful.
You had both decided to stick together, united in your quest to uncover the truth about who you were and why you had ended up there. It was evident that something significant had happened to both of you, something that had rendered you both invincible. Despite the mysteries that surrounded your origins, the bond between you and Logan only grew throughout time.
As time passed, the nature of your relationship evolved in ways neither of you had anticipated. Somehow, amidst the chaos and the search for answers, you had found yourselves tumbling into bed with each other. While the physical connection had become a part of your lives, nothing had fundamentally changed, and you never talked about it.
Even as you navigated your complicated relationship, your focus remained on the shared mission: to piece together the truth about your past and understand the full extent of your powers. 
Everything happened so quickly. You and Logan were in the middle of your usual routine—hitting various bars and grifting people for money. It was a familiar pattern, one that had become almost comforting in its predictability. But that night, things took an unexpected turn.
A teenager—no older than seventeen—had sneaked into the back of your car. Her name was Rogue, and despite your initial reluctance, you and Logan ended up arguing about what to do with her. Logan, ever the soft-hearted one despite his gruff exterior, eventually agreed to give her a ride, though it was clear he would have done so regardless of your persuasion.
The situation quickly spiraled out of control. Out of nowhere—a caveman-like brute—attacked you. Logan was momentarily knocked out in the chaos, leaving you and Rogue vulnerable. The man’s strength was overwhelming, and before you could react, he hurled you against a tree. The impact was brutal, and you felt a jarring “crack” as your head struck the trunk.
You crumpled to the ground, falling into the snow. As the world around you dimmed, the last thing you saw was the silhouettes of the figures moving closer, their shapes growing more defined against the stark whiteness of the snow.
You woke with a groan, sitting up abruptly as if propelled by instinct. Your body felt as good as new, fully healed from the earlier impact. Instinctively, you scanned your surroundings, your mind racing with concern for Logan and his whereabouts.
As your eyes adjusted to the dim light, you noticed a bald man sitting in a wheelchair across the room. Despite his lack of visible movement, his voice seemed to come from all around you, resonating in your mind as much as your ears.
“There is no need to panic,” he said, his lips remaining still, not in sync with his words.
You tensed, on high alert. “How are you doing that?” you demanded, your voice edged with suspicion.
The bald man responded aloud this time, “How do we do anything? We’re mutants.”
Your frustration boiled over. “Where am I? Where is Logan?”
The man’s calm demeanor didn’t waver. “He is safe… you both are.” He began to wheel closer; his movements deliberate and smooth. “As for where you are… You are at my academy, where we help those like you. You are with… the X-Men.”
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Alastor - [ ELATION ]
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A/N: This was originally an nsfw quick thought but it spiraled out of control so I guess it's a story sneak peak now?!…
WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ]
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You look down on him. Pure joy on your face as he kneels, sitting there at your feet, and all at his will.
It feels so odd but intoxicating. You, so much smaller than him, who can only harness half the power he holds and are seen by everyone as the softest being ever to grace the hotel halls. You, an almost picture-perfect doll many thought fell from heaven, towering over one of the most feared overloads without a hint of fear in you.
Alastor at your whim, willingly, and all because you flattered him with your existence. So polite, so sweet, and so daring. You were fragile and fearless, an ordinary sinner who had him wrapped around her little finger within minutes of your first meeting.
And you knew it.
You knew it and you used it against him shamelessly.
One look from your doe-like eyes and he felt incapable of refusing any wish you asked of him.
It gave you a rush, confidence even, and boosted your hidden ego, knowing you could crumble such a powerful demon to his knees so quickly. The slight smile you'd learned to showcase daily became a grin looking down on him now, in the confines of his room, in the dead of night…
You'd come to him for attention, and though he was busy preparing the script for his next broadcast, he immediately disregarded it as you waltzed into his space.
“Hm, seems you missed me a lot, Al,” you teased him with a giggle, perching yourself on the sofa he'd just been lounging on himself and lowering your gaze as he crouched his taller frame before you.
A true gentleman….acting without being told to.
How sweet….
“My dear,” he addresses you quietly, smile ever present as you tipped his head up with your stocking-clad foot; the soft black fabric reached your thighs, drawing his attention to the exposed skin above it as you playfully nudged his chin to refocus his wandering gaze.
“My eyes are up here, sir. Don't you know it's impolite to gawk at a lady?” You flash a closed-eye smile while chastising him, crossing one leg over the other as he looks upon your face, but he finds it incredibly hard to leave it there as the silk of your nightgown shifts with your every move.
Alastor could easily rip it off, pin you down, and take what he wanted from you.
Use you for all your worth and dare you to run as he did…
He had the power to but basked in your control instead, loving the trivial games you'd play with his undead heart and undeniably amused by your confidence to do so.
You didn't need his affections, his ownership, or permission.
Protection or popularity wasn't your prerogative either…
You needed nothing from the feared Radio Demon…
Not a single thing…
But you would damn sure take everything from him.
“What is it that you desire, sweetheart? Tell me, and it's yours…” Alastor felt his chest lose all its air as you giggled again, humming quietly, hearing his offer and only answering him when you'd taken an excellent, sultry look at him.
“Anything?” you question him, reaching out to gently pet his ears, brushing the same delicate fingers through his town-toned hair a couple of times before tracing over his hidden antlers. Alastor felt an invisible shiver rack his body as you toyed with the familiar areas, aware of their sensitivity but selfishly stimulating them to get his reactions.
“Anything…you want..” the stag groaned lowly, smile growing tight as you massage his right ear before switching to the other and using that hold to drag him closer while uncrossing your legs. He obediently leaned in, the subtle scent of your aroused heat stirring a dormant hunger in him instantly and the plushness of your thighs fitting perfectly into his clawed hands as he reached for you.
You moaned quietly as he dragged his claws over your skin, careful not to rip your stockings, panting heavily against your clothed cunt like a starved man.
It'd been days since he last tasted you, had his fill of your cunt that you so graciously allowed him access to, and Alastor had long forgotten how to mask his greed for it…
He saw no point in hiding his craving when you came to him in a state like this. Demanding and desperate, just the same as he was.
“So…” you sighed in delight as he nuzzled his head closer, blood-red eyes drifting up to meet yours as you continued to speak, “…you’ll help me fall asleep then? One last time…”
A lie.
You both knew you'd return to him for all your needs, desires, and troubles.
“One last time “ meant nothing to Alastor and even less to you.
“Of course, I will, my darling…” he let the static drop from his voice, admiring how your small canines dug into your bottom lip, eyes lidding over with unmistakable pleasure.
That was all you needed to hear from Alastor, voicing no refusal as he shifted closer to your heart and moaned loudly as he passed his tongue over your clothed heat once, then twice before ripping it away with his sharp teeth.
You jolted from sudden action, not startled by Alastors microaggressions and rather proud of yourself for causing such a ravenous reaction. “Careful, or you might hurt me, Al…” you feigned concern, petting his head gently as a lazy smile tugged at your lips, and said deer demon responded to your coy reprimand by slowly lapping at your folds.
“Oh, mmm…” Your back arched from the velvet cushions you sat against, hands fisting the fabric of his red dress shirt as he wrapped an arm around each of your thighs, effectively keeping you still.
His grip was bruising, a normal pain you'd come to expect since you tended to struggle to tease his efforts at pleasing you, but your little habit persisted.
“Y-you think- ahm…you think you deserve this?… To have me…t-to get anything you want…ah…” you writhed in his hold, glaring at him vengfully despite drowning in a pool of ecstasy everytime he passed his unruly tongue over entrance. Alastor chuckled at your brazen remarks, reveling your warmth as he switched between teasing your clit and exploring your inner walls, and you lost your breath from the familiar pattern.
He knew you inside and out, committed your every reaction to memory, and thrived off seeing your tender body betray your power-hungry mentality.
Your thighs trembled as his tongue slithered deeper into your cunt, leaving no inch of it unexplored while his gaze remained on your flushed face. He couldn't look away, not when you threw your head back before letting out a string of whimpers, blinking back tears as your hips rolled closer to his face.
He had you now, legs shaking, and your count steadily streaming a mix of his saliva and your cum.
He had you, and there wasn't a thing you could do to stop him.
You'd asked for it…
“Earn it…earn me…Alastor,” you praised his efforts through grateful moans, vibrating with pleasure as the coil in your stomach curled itself impossibly tight the longer he feasted on your cunt. Stars dotted your vision as your high approached, his distorted groans and deathly grip coaxing it.
Blood trickled on your thighs, his nails gradually digging deeper into the fabric covering them, but you refused to care as Alastair brought you over the edge.
“That's enough..” you whine as his tongue swirls inside of your cunt, leaving nothing to waste as you come down from your high. He didn't relent to the ministrations, overstimulating you on purpose, and you tugged one of his ears roughly to correct him. Alastor grunted in pain, grimacing at you as he backed away from your entrance slowly, “What a violent little thing you are.” He chastises you, eyes narrowing as a huff leaves your lips, “And you're an arrogant son of a bitch…” you snap back childishly.
His eyes glow bright red at your snarky remark, smile widening as you follow it up with an innocent smile. No one but you could get away with talking to him that way, smug and inconsequential.
Indeed, Alastor would find a way to fuck the meaning of genuine fear into you…
xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxxx xx
This was literally a drabble…ughh my writers block is actually debilitating atp… :(
[ BONUS CONTENT + ]
His eye brow raise kills me everytime…like okay yes sir whatever you say sir mhm will do sir no need to ask me twice sir!!! ❤️ credit to the creator
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daycourtofficial · 9 months
Note
Hello. If you dont mind i have a request for azriel where maybe reader has just given birth and has lately been feeling very insecure about her body and azriel comforts her...with lots of fluff
A New Warmth
Sorry about how long this took anon, but I hope the wait was worth it!
-
You watch the baby nestled in the crook of your arms, mirroring her deep breaths to keep yourself calm. She was so soft, so sweet, and whenever she reached for you, it made your heart melt. She was everything you and Azriel had hoped for - healthy, chubby, and sweet as can be. She even had the cutest little wings that twitched in her sleep.
The problem with having an Illyrian baby is you develop an Illyrian’s appetite while pregnant with them, along with the other stretching and tearing your body has gone through to accommodate her.
She was two weeks old at this point, and you knew you shouldn’t be too hard on yourself. Your body created this - a perfect mirror of you and your mate. But you couldn’t help the negative thoughts fluttering through your mind as your hand rested on your stomach, knowing the fresh stretch marks that lay underneath. You gained a good deal of weight during the pregnancy, your labor only removing about a dozen of those pounds.
As if sensing your spiraling thoughts, your mate walks in the door of your shared bedroom, his eyes alight with love and adoration at seeing his two girls.
“My loves,” he greets the both of you, setting the mugs of tea he had brought down, lifting the blanket to lat next to you. His presence under the blanket providing a new layer of warmth- not just physical, but the warmth of the three of you being together.
You lean your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm behind you, slowly to not disturb the baby in your arms. “Will I ever get my body back?” You mumble into his shoulder. His fingers start caressing your shoulder, rubbing soothing circles into it.
“Mmm, no, I don’t think you will.” You want to snap your head up, tell him that’s no way to console someone who had just pushed out his baby out of a tiny opening in their body when he uses his hand to hold your head in place.
“We will never be the same. We cannot go back.” He looks down at the baby in your arms, “maybe one day you’ll have more autonomy again - you won’t have a baby latched to your breast every other hour.”
His hand snakes down to rest on top of the hand you’re using to cradle the baby. “But she’ll always be a part of you.” The baby starts stirring, moving her tiny hands, and he reaches out a finger, which she quickly wraps her delicate fingers around. You both watch the scarred flesh in the pristine grasp of your innocent babe, no idea of an outside world that could cause harm. All she knows is the sanctuary of your home.
You look at Azriel with tears in your eyes, feeling incredibly silly over being upset at stretch marks. But as if he can read your mind, he tells you, “you have constantly given me what I thought I’d never have. You loved me, you gave me a true home, you gave me a mate, and now?” He laughs, flexing his finger in her grasp. “You’ve expanded our family. You gorgeous thing, you.”
He kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “Your love knows no bounds, and I am eternally grateful for you.”
You start crying, post partem hormones taking control of you. “It’s so shallow,” you laugh as a tear falls, “I just was so upset over how weird my body feels. The pregnancy glow is gone so now I just feel heavy and weird in my own skin.”
He uses the hand not gripped by your baby to grab your chin and tilt it towards him. “I couldn’t look at my hands for a long time, after they had done it.”
Azriel always has a way of leaving you speechless, telling you another facet of himself he never had before.
“I could barely look at them before I met you. But you called them beautiful, this part of me I hated so much.” He looks into your eyes, the bond between you two humming in joy and adoration. “It’s okay if you don’t like how you look right now, I will find you beautiful enough for the both of us.”
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magicalbats · 1 year
Text
Kinktober Day 13: Size Difference
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Rating: R-18+
Word Count: 7129
Warnings: Afab!/reader, size difference, noncon, abduction, bathing, aphrodisiacs, drugging, bareback, stomach bulge, gendered terms 
A/N: okay, look … I’ve been deeply in love with the Daythunder Eremites since we got our first glimpse of them right before 3.0 dropped. Did I lose the plot a little bit on this one? Maybe. But I’m actually obsessed with this NPC. I even went around and marked their locations on my map with the little meat pin. ✋😭 I quite literally ran OUT of available pins because of it. Not one single person better question why I picked him for this prompt instead of Enjou (I was extremely tempted tho, trust and believe that xmdkxk)
It was quickly becoming apparent that you were in a bit over your head with this commission. Between the wailing researchers on the ground, the frightened Sumpter Beast making a lumbering escape for the near distant tree line, the attacking Eremites and the damaged cart that had inexplicably caught fire at some point, the situation was clearly spiraling far out of your control.  
Gripping your sword so hard it hurts, you try to take stock of what was happening and regroup. There wasn’t enough time to fully process it though. The small stretch of road — if you could even call it that — had devolved into complete and utter chaos in the blink of an eye, and you have to lurch to avoid the incoming swing of a huge battle ax before you can make any sense of it. But if there was one thing you knew, intrinsically, it was that there were too many of them for you to take on alone. It was too much for a single adventurer no matter how talented or skilled you may have been. 
You dance back, not even daring to breathe as you agily avoid the weapon swinging at you with so much force you not only hear the violent displacement of air but you can even feel it too. This was incredibly dangerous. One hit from that ax would shatter bones, possibly even crush organs, and you’d likely be dead before the day was through. You had to get away but — pivoting your body, you steal a split second glance at the helpless researchers. They were cowering at the feet of a girl, no older than yourself, who was holding them at blade point while the other Eremites quickly worked to unload the cargo before it all went up in smoke with the burning cart. You needed to get away but so did they. 
Clenching your teeth, you duck to avoid the next swing and dive under that huge, muscular arm to hit the dirt. You feel him shift behind you, alter the momentum and start to bring the heavy ax down right on top of you. Bracing for the destructive impact, you throw yourself forward into a stiff roll seconds before the ground erupts in a spray of dirt and grass that showers you in grime even when you skid to a halt some few feet away. Your heart feels like it’s going to slam right out of your chest as you frantically stumble to your feet on jelly filled legs, almost dropping your sword in your haste. 
You couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to avoid that hit … 
With a choked, gasping wheeze, you force yourself into a dead sprint, ignoring the thrumming terror that threatens to debilitate you as you dart across the road right towards the Eremite girl. You may not have been able to save their precious research but you could still save them! 
“Run!” You scream, making her turn. It was too late though. 
Leaning your shoulder into it, you slam into her so hard both of you go flying through the air to hit the ground in a heap. It knocks the air out of you (and her, by the sound of it) but you quickly roll away and struggle to your feet once again. There’s so much adrenaline pumping through your system you hardly even feel yourself moving, numb to everything going on around you, but you’re still distantly aware of the resulting scramble when the two researchers jump up to make a break for it. Good. At least now you could worry about yourself. 
But you don’t quite make it that far. 
The huge man with the ax is suddenly right on top of you — you hadn’t even seen him coming! Your heartbeat stutters a surprised beat and you just barely get your sword up in time to block his next swing. Unfortunately the force of it knocks your blade from your screaming hands, sending it pinwheeling up and away at such a high arc you could never hope to snag it and he doesn’t stop long enough to let you watch it fall back to the earth. 
One second you’re stumbling from the impact. The next he’s snatching a fistful of your hair to yank you towards him, and you collapse at his feet on your knees. Sharp, stabbing splinters of pain shoot through your body but it’s quickly overshadowed by the agony of him using his hold on your hair to pull you upright, damn near taking you right off the ground. Seething, you force your eyes open to glare daggers at him when he bends close and puts his face inches from yours in a clear, obvious display of intimidation. 
“That was a stupid thing to do.” 
“I’ll kill her!” The Eremite girl shrieks, scrabbling to get up. “I’ll skin her alive and put her head on a spike!” 
You go stockstill, lungs constricting painfully when you feel her reach for you. But, to your squawking surprise, the huge man physically drags you away from her and closer to himself like you were little more than a toy they were fighting over. 
“Wait, Siri. Not yet.” He warns, the low growl in his voice growing stronger, and you sway in his hold with a suffocating feeling of dread. What a terrible situation to find yourself in. “Let me have this one. You can play with her when I’m done.” 
“Do you really think I want your leftovers?” She snaps, both of them completely ignoring the way you wheeze between them. “She shoved me onto the ground, Aziz! She’ll be lucky if that’s all I do! I’m going to pluck out her eyes and - -“ 
“Enough, you two!” A third Eremite barks over. Still panting raggedly, you carefully turn your head even when it tugs at your hair to find another towering man standing some few feet away with one of the salvaged crates clutched against his chest. Idly, you realize the cart was almost completely engulfed in flames now and rapidly turning to smoldered ash. The guild was going to get such an earful from you if you made it out of this alive. 
“But - -“
“I don’t want to hear it!” The other man cuts her off again. “We need to get this stuff out of here. Now! Those two researchers escaped so we need to be long gone before they send in backup. Bring the adventurer if you want, I don’t care. Just get your asses in gear.” 
Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Siri shoots you a quick look that is no less chilling behind the red cloth hiding her eyes before stiffly pushing into motion. You watch her walk away to join the others, your stomach cramping with nerves, and it only gets worse when Aziz tugs on your hair to bring your attention back up to him again. 
“Looks like you got lucky today. In more ways than one, I’d say.” Pausing, he puts his head to one side to send the braid over his temple swinging, and you can’t quite shake the impression of being a helpless rabbit caught under a tiger's paw. He was so massive, and the way he looks at you ... “I admit, your swordsmanship was pretty good. You’ve got good instincts even if you don’t have the strength to back it up. Tell me, little adventurer. Where do you hail from?” 
You draw a steadying breath and try not to regurgitate everything that was in your stomach right down to the bile. “Mondstadt. I’m originally from Mond.” 
“I see. You’re a far way from home then. I hope no one there is going to miss you too much.” 
~*~
They lead you into a camp, blindfolded and with your wrists bound behind your back, but you recognize the distinct sounds of daily life for what they are immediately. You can hear children shrieking and laughing, weaving in and out of your peripheral senses in what could only be play. There were women murmuring nearby, speaking so low you couldn’t make out what they were saying when the grizzled voices of older men seemed to drown them out. You can just make out what you think must be a dog snuffling around your ankles in a quick burst of sound before darting away when they drag you further in and, somewhere, a goat bleats. 
There’s sand under your feet now so you knew you were no longer in the lush rainforests of Sumeru but, rather, the desert. You’d never gone this far west before, precisely because of the grip the Eremites had on the area. Having heard plenty of stories about just how cutthroat they could be in the harsh environment they called home, you had wanted to avoid crossing paths with them if at all possible but a lot of good that had done you. 
The acrid, dry air seems to rob you of the ability to breathe and you stumble, gasping against the grit and oppressive heat, when Aziz shoves you through what must be a doorway. Abruptly you’re enshrouded in a blanket of cool that is so noticeably different from the temperature outside it actually makes you shiver at the sudden change. He doesn’t give you a chance to truly appreciate it or sigh out in relief though, simply pulling you by the arm even when you nearly trip over your own aching feet. 
His hand feels impossibly huge on your neck when he finally palms the back of it and shoves you down to sit on the floor, forcing your legs to splay under you at an awkward angle. Panting, you cautiously shift to settle on your butt even as he reaches up to loosen the knot he’d tied behind your head. It falls away with a quiet slither of fabric, and you blink into the gloom of what you quickly realize is a tent. His tent? You couldn’t be sure, and you weren’t entirely certain you wanted to know. 
“You don’t have to do this …” You whisper into the stillness, and he just scoffs. 
“You don’t even know what it is I’m going to do yet. Be patient, little adventurer from Mondstadt. You might like it.” 
You very much doubted that, but hold your tongue on the slim hope that compliance might see you through this in one piece. Even if your arms hadn’t been secured behind your back it was obvious you still wouldn’t have been much of a match against someone like him. He’d already thoroughly cemented that back in the forest. Because not only was Aziz incredibly tall, he was also filled out and thick with heavy muscle mass. Just one of his biceps looked like it was greater in width than your thigh and you fully believed he could crush you like a grape if he so chose. With no other option available, you grudgingly acquiesce when he turns you around to face him. 
He was still wearing his own blindfold, that rich red brocade hiding his eyes, but you recognized the way he looked at you even without being able to see them. You’re not entirely sure how he — or any of the Eremites — got around as well as they did without the use of their sight, and a tremor tears through you when he sedately reaches out to touch the side of your face. Not so much as a split second falter or other sign of hesitation. It was like he knew exactly where you were, like he could see through the material, and a fresh curling tendril of unease snakes through you at the thought of his people having some divinely appointed sixth sense. Was that why their strongest warriors covered their faces? 
“You’re filthy.” He suddenly announces, and you know it’s not just the grit of dirt and sand he’s talking about. You were thoroughly drenched in sweat from the trek out here as much as your earlier standoff with him, and it was now quickly cooling to settle a chill over your sore body. 
Jaw clenching, you turn your face from him. “Is it really any wonder? You almost took my head off back there.” 
Chuckling softly, Aziz drops his hand to rest on his bent knee where he’s knelt in front of you. “Sorry about that. If it counts for anything, Siri almost took it too.” 
You send him a slow, wary look. Was that really supposed to make you feel any better? 
He just offers up an indifferent shrug of his broad shoulders though, and then moves to straighten up. Watching him walk over to a big clay pot standing sentry a few paces away, you momentarily toy with the notion of running while his back was turned but immediately quash the thought. The grim reality of the situation was not lost on you. Not only did you have no idea where you were and even less of an idea how to get back, you also had no working knowledge of how to survive in the desert. Even if you could get past him and then all the other Eremites outside, escape the camp, what would you do then? No food, no water, not even any supplies or extra clothes to keep you warm when night inevitably fell. You’d be a sitting duck for any hungry predators out on the prowl if hypothermia didn’t catch up to you first. You’d heard how cold it gets after the sun sets out here, and you weren’t sure if you were brave enough to take the chance …
It doesn’t matter either way. Before you can even consider changing your mind Aziz returns with a shallow bowl and a rag which you regard suspiciously when he sets it aside. You could guess where this was going, but it still shocks you a great deal that he then reaches for the front of your clothes like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing, and without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it either.  
“Wait - -“
“Hush, adventurer. I won’t hurt you so long as you play nice and remember not to bite the hand keeping you alive.” 
Swallowing hard, you numbly watch him take the front of your guild uniform in hand and casually pop it open with a sedate tug that sends buttons flying in either direction. They fall near silent across the worn tarp that serves as the floor of the tent, and you draw a slow, shuddering breath. Try not to linger on the way his heavy knuckles brush against your chest while he pulls the shirt open to expose the silk chemise underneath. Distantly, you start to wonder if he’ll untie your hands just to get you undressed, thinking you might have a chance to flee after all — but then he rips at the fabric, giving you a sudden jerk at the force, and your mouth drops open in shock when it simply tears from you in a ragged panel. 
Realizing he’s just going to peel it off you in pieces, you purse your lips into a tight line to stop yourself from crying out as he shreds your blouse to tatters and ribbons that fall to the floor around you in a pathetic heap. He does the same with the chemise and then your long skirt, pausing only long enough to yank away your boots, hose and, finally, your bloomers. You don’t give up the last without a fight but he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge all your squirming and twisting while he easily manhandles you to relieve you of your final dignity some moments later. 
Seething, you primly squeeze your legs together to hide your most intimate spot from him but it barely gives Aziz pause. One of those massive hands reaches out to clamp around your ankle and he none too gently drags you across the floor to leave you laid out on your back. Ignoring your incensed hissing, he shifts and settles into a cross legged position in front of you before reaching calmly for the bowl. 
“You remind me of a cat, you know that?” He murmurs, dipping the rag into the water to soak it through as you struggle back up into a sitting position.
“One of the Rishboland Tigers, I hope.” 
He outright laughs. “No. You are like a very small, very feisty kitten that hasn’t yet learned her place in this world.” 
You stiffen at that, narrowing your eyes at him, but he pays it little mind. Squeezing out the rag of excess water, he stretches his hand out towards your face again and you stubbornly try to crane your neck to escape it. Aziz just follows you though, and you give a startled little squawk when he finally presses the cool cloth into your cheek. 
“That’s cold!” 
Softly shushing you, he drags the rag over your skin to wipe away all the sweat, dirt and grime coating your face. Much to your grudging dismay you quickly find that it actually felt rather nice and he was not near as violent or brutish about it as his appearance would have suggested he’d be. It’s almost gentle, in fact, and you slowly find yourself relaxing into it with a stilted sigh. You would be glad to be clean again, even if you had to endure the humiliation of being washed like a child to achieve it. 
Cautiously roving your eyes up when he starts to work his way down your neck, you take a moment to really study him. You couldn’t say for sure if he was looking back at you or if the brunt of his attention was focused on the task at hand, but you try not to let that uncertainty dissuade you. After all, if he was bold enough to undress you like this then surely he could handle a bit of staring. And you think, with no shortage of surprise, that he was probably handsome under that mask. His jaw was smooth and well defined, housing a pair of full, kissable lips that purse slightly when he scrubs at a splotch of dirt on your throat. You still didn’t like him very much after he’d almost smashed you to bits with his giant ax and then kidnapped you, spirited away into the inhospitable desert, but you couldn’t exactly deny what was in front of you. 
Maybe if you’d met under (vastly) different circumstances … 
“Do you like what you see?” 
You sniff and look away to take in the rest of the tent. “Hardly.” 
Aziz chuckles again while he rinses out the rag in the dish before bringing it back to your skin once again. “Such a grumpy little adventurer … what are you doing so far away from home? I’ve heard Mondstadt is very different from Sumeru.” 
“It is,” You relent, hating yourself for leaning into his touch when he caresses over a throbbing spot on your shoulder. You must have banged it on the ground rolling around earlier, or maybe it was from plowing into Siri. “We don’t have any deserts or great big forests. Well … none like what Sumeru has, anyway. No tigers to worry about, either. All we’ve got are wolves, but they don’t usually attack humans.” 
He hums a quiet sound of acknowledgement, taking a moment to massage into the aching muscle under his heavy fingers when he sees the pinch in your expression. “You miss it.” 
It’s a statement, not a question, and you sigh. “Considering where I’m at right now, yeah. It’s kind of hard not to.” 
“Grumpy.” 
You try not to scowl at that, knowing it wouldn’t get you anywhere even if you kicked up a fit and fought him tooth and nail. At least he was being nice about it. That was one good thing in all this, you think — only to suck in a quick breath as he drags his hand lower to wipe your chest clean. You know it’s coming but it still pulls a quiet whimper out of you when the rag passes over your breast, catching at the nipple to send a static jolt through your body. Shirking, you try to twist away from him but it’s useless with your hands tied behind your back and he just follows you. The way he kneads and squeezes at the swell of flesh under the guise of cleaning you up doesn’t escape your notice, and neither does your reaction to it. But it horrifies you more than anything else and, steadying yourself, you try to rein it in. If ever there was a worse time for your baser urges to start taking over, this would have been it. 
But rather than lingering, Aziz soon switches to the other side which he gives the same level of patient attention to. A handful of groping squeezes, a brief pinch to the nipple and then he’s moving on again. Your breathing starts to pick up as he works his way lower, swiping the rag under your breasts to lift and nudge them against his thick knuckles. His skin is rough and calloused on yours wherever it touches, and you hate the way it makes you feel. Hot and flushed, and just ever so slightly sensitized in his wake. A shudder tears down your spine when he starts running the wet cloth over your stomach. 
“W - wait —“ 
He doesn’t wait. Doesn’t even so much as pause, and you try very hard not to yelp when he rather boldly swipes his hand from your bellybutton straight into the soft cradle of your thighs. Eyes widening in mute horror, you rock back and try to squeeze your legs shut to no avail. He just leans forward, invading your space again as his unoccupied hand comes up to wrap around the nape of your neck. You can’t quite believe it when he yanks you backwards and eases you onto the floor with perfect control that stops you from slamming your head back. It would have been quite impressive if only your heart didn’t feel like it was going to slam right through your ribcage and, mewling a desperate, frazzled noise, you make a last ditch effort to twist away. But he just holds you in place, keeping you pinned by the neck, while he bullies your thighs apart with the other hand. 
A faltering, highly embarrassing sound bursts out of you when the damp rag presses firm against your cunt at last. He pauses there a moment to squeeze at you through the cloth, almost idly grinding his palm down and making you twitch, before finally dragging it further down to run along the slit in your body. Left wheezing in the aftermath, you just lay there and try to wrap your head around this confusing turn of events. You couldn’t make sense of it. Although you’d expected it on some level, wasn’t this still a little … strange? 
The way he cleans you is almost so formal it seems to border on ritualistic. Like he was performing some kind of ceremony or rite. The horrifying thought that perhaps he was preparing you for sacrifice crosses your mind and you can’t quite stop from cowering when he pushes up to kneel on his knees beside you. But, to your squawking surprise, all he does is grab hold of your ankle again and uses it to pull you over onto your stomach like you were little more than an uncooperative toddler. 
“H - hey! I’m not a child you know!” 
“A great relief, I assure you.” 
Flushing red hot, you force yourself to grow still and just lay there while he wipes across your back and arms, your sides, running down to your ass and then lower still to get the backs of your legs. It was an altogether humiliating experience and not one you’d like to repeat any time soon, but you couldn’t deny you felt nice and fresh by the time he finally finishes up a small eternity later. Squeaky clean, even. It’s a great improvement from your earlier state, at least, and you don’t protest when he hooks a hand under your arm to help you sit back up. 
Deeply ruffled, you try to reorient yourself while he moves to dispose of the used water somewhere at the back of the tent. You once again consider making a run for it but … oh, it would be another matter entirely if they hadn’t blindfolded you! That was the only thing stopping you from trying. The very real possibility you’d pick the wrong direction and just end up wandering deeper into the desert without even realizing your mistake until it was much too late keeps you firmly rooted to the spot and certainly not because of the dull thrum in your cunt. Nope. Definitely not. 
Aziz comes close again, snapping you out of your stunned trance, and you glance up as he kneels in front of you to warily eye the petite bone carved container in his hand. It was shaped like a flower, and something about it makes every hair on your body slowly stand on end. 
“What is that?” 
“A gift, for the little adventurer from Mondstadt.” He says, giving you (what you think has to be) a sly smile. “Are you afraid of oils and creams as much as you are of me?” 
Your brow draws in uncertainty but you don’t get a chance to pick apart what he’s saying to find the meaning in it. Taking up the wiry bristled brush in his other hand, he unscrews the lid from the trinket and dabs the tip into whatever was inside. For a split second you think he’s going to put makeup on you for some inexplicable reason but then — the now smoothed brush looks wet when he reaches it out towards you, and you reel back with a gasp. He remains undaunted though, and you screw your eyes shut with a soft whimper. 
Startled confusion marches through your mind when he just presses the brush into the side of your neck though, and your mouth immediately pops open at how sticky and cool it is. Before you can yelp about the sensation, he drags a harsh line down across the column of your throat, making you shudder so hard you think you’re going to collapse. But then the sweet, cloying scent of myrrh and lavender mixed together floods your nostrils and you snap your head back up in disbelief. Perfume? 
“You look surprised,” He murmurs, reaching for the other side of your neck to draw another stilted line over your pulse. “Do you know what this is?” 
You shift, more than just a little uncertain and ill at ease now. “I … I don’t think I understand.” 
With a quiet hum, he dips the brush into the mysterious substance again. “You will. Give it time, and you’ll soon come to understand everything.” 
You haven’t the slightest idea what to make of that ambiguous statement. 
Struggling to maintain your calm, you watch his hand stretch out for you again but this time it arims towards your chest. You think he’s going to swipe that goopy liquid over the swell of your breasts but, much to your jolting surprise, he drags it straight down over your pert nipple instead. Stomach roiling at the sensation, you make another blithe attempt to lean away from it but just like every other time he follows you easily enough and flicks that bristled tip over the stiffened bud again. Your breath hitches when it almost immediately starts to grow warm and tingly, shooting a disbelieving look down at yourself even as he reaches to do the same to the other. 
“W - what is that — ahhn!” 
“Relax. You’ll feel good in a moment.” 
Somehow you didn’t believe that at all, and you start to tremble uncontrollably there on the floor. But it soon occurs to you that it’s not just nerves making you shake like a leaf. Your tits grow sensitive and flushed against the wafting air, curling to fine, tight points on your chest as the liquid quickly cools. It makes your blood pound harder, your breath come faster, and you can’t help but squirm at the almost painful knot that curls low in your gut. 
Dizzy now, you issue a quiet whimper into the still tent when you sway in a deeply intoxicated manner. “Dear, Archons - -“ 
You cut off with a startled yelp when he pushes you down again but you no longer have the presence of mind to fight it. Laying there twitching, you tip your chin to dazedly watch that massive hand curl around the meat of your inner thigh and pull your legs apart. Suddenly your nudity seems so stark and arousing it makes you gasp, eyes widening when you realize you’re getting wet. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. Your cunt was flooding and you wail an incomprehensible protest when he leans over you to bring the brush towards your defenseless slit. 
“Little adventurer,” Aziz croons, keeping your legs spread under his palm as he teases the tip of the brush over your lips. “You should have stayed in Mondstadt where they don’t have such big men and potent aphrodisiacs to turn your body against you.” 
Sucking in a harsh, rasping breath, you weakly fling your opposite leg up as if to shove at him but you miss by a wide mile and it just smacks back down to the floor, completely useless. It was like you’d been robbed of your motor skills and mental faculties in equal measure. It was hard just to think straight. 
“W — why?” 
Chuckling, he drags his hand down off your thigh to press into the meat of your labia and spread them, fully exposing your clit to the air. “I had fun playing with you earlier even if your little sword was no match for my ax. You still put up a good fight so of course I’d want to keep playing.” The soft haired brush slowly presses into the pulsing cluster of nerves and you go ramrod stiff, mouth falling open as if to scream but nothing comes out. All you can do is lay there, violently twitching, while he sedately drags it up and down, and side to side to draw even more sticky slick out of your body. “Unfortunately you are a very small adventurer and I am much too big for you to take easily. This will help you adjust to my size and even make it less painful too. You should be happy I’m showing you such kindness.” 
Your head positively swims at the explanation, neck lolling bonelessly on the floor of the tent while you desperately try to sort through it all and cling to your cognizance at the same time. It’s no use though. The effects of the drug sweep you up much too quickly and pull you under. You feel like you're drowning in it, your pussy thrumming and squeezing around nothing even when he finally pulls away from your throbbing clit some time later. 
There’s nothing at all you can do, not even protest, when he finds his feet and then leans down to haul you up against him. Clutched to his chest, you hang there in a lifeless, moaning heap while he walks to the opposite side of the tent where he deposits you onto a waiting bed of pillows that gently cradle your body when he sets you down. Paying no mind to your needy, gasping moans, Aziz leaves you there and retreats back to the clay pot you’d seen him fetch water from earlier to clean you with. On a distant, hazy level, you realize he’s going to wash himself next and you know you should probably be thankful for that. Know you should try to take this moment to escape even if it meant running buck naked out into the desert beyond his tent. 
But you just can’t bring yourself to do anything except writhe and twist on top of the mountain of pillows, blithely trying to squeeze your thighs together and rub out the ache between them without the use of your hands. It’s no good at all. Just utterly hopeless when your body was pulsing so hot and so fiercely your limbs didn’t want to cooperate. 
Idly, you think to try straddling one of the pillows so you can grind your cunt against it. 
Weakly, you roll over and attempt to wriggle yourself on top of one — any of them, it didn’t matter, any would do when your need was so great — but you can’t quite seem to manage. All it does is drag your stiff nipples over the fabric and the stitching, and you issue a low, faltering groan when you realize it’s just making it worse. It was hard to breathe. You felt like you were going insane with the need to be stuffed and filled, and stretched and pounded into unconsciousness. 
You’re so caught up in your suffering you almost don’t notice when Aziz finally returns to your side. You feel the pillows shift under you with the addition of his weight and you try to blink away the stupor at the same time that you abruptly realize you’re drooling. Grunting in surprise at suddenly finding that you were in such a state, you lift your head with an owlish blink. 
The effects of the aphrodisiac were starting to lessen, receding at least enough to clear your head by a small margin … 
Before you can celebrate, you feel his hands descend upon your bound wrists and the sensation of those calloused fingers on your skin punches an abrupt groan out of you. Okay, maybe the effects weren’t fading so much as your body was simply adjusting to the sudden, potent influx of endorphins but at least you could formulate a semi coherent thought now. 
You cling to that small silver lining with every fiber of your shuddering being as he gets the rope untied, freeing your arms at long last, and then rolls you over. The room spins for a brief moment but when your eyes focus and you manage to look down they nearly pop right out of your skull. Not only was he completely nude, so massive and thick with muscle it startles a tiny squeak out of you, but he was also rock hard. And much, much bigger than you could have even imagined. 
Somehow the fear of having that huge cock forced into your body seems to chase away a bit more of the muddled daze hanging over your head, and you bring your hands up in an awkward, uncoordinated rush to push at him. But when you jerk your attention up at his face, you stop dead in your tracks. 
His mask was gone. 
Aziz’s eyes were sharp and narrowly shaped to compliment the lean structure of his face, and his eyes … you suddenly forget how to breathe. You’d never seen irises so startlingly amethyst they looked like sparkling jewels. 
He watches your reaction carefully, the intensity of that bejeweled gaze boring into you even as he crawls over top of you to settle between your legs. The demanding nudge of his rigid cock startles you back to reality, and you suck in such a frantic gasp of air it claws on the way down. 
“No, wait - -“
His hand grabs under your chin and forces your head back so he can seal his mouth over yours and cut you off. You go ramrod stiff underneath him, eyes wide and wild even as you lift shuddering hands to weakly press into his chest. Archons, he was huge. The muscle bulges under your palms and tenses, flexing when he shifts against you to line himself up, and the full weight of what’s happening slams into you all at once. 
Visciously, you tear your mouth from his with a warbling, intoxicated shriek. “Please, I can’t take it! It won’t fit!” 
He issues a deep, rumbling chuckle and runs those thick, rough worn fingers across your flushed cheek to make you tremble anew. “You can. Do not fear it, little adventurer. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?” Pausing, he teases your entrance with the blunt head, making you wheeze at the feel of him so heavy and thick against delicate lips. You reel underneath him and try not to hyperventilate, but he just keeps you pinned and mostly immobile under his sturdy frame. Finally, at length, he says, “Shall I show you how far into you I’m going to reach and give you something to truly be afraid of?” 
“Wha - -“ 
Jostling you when he pulls back, Aziz pushes up to put some space between your pelvis and his, and you almost sigh in relief when his cock retreats from your entrance. But then something fleshy and thick slaps down on your lower belly, effectively robbing you of the ability to breathe, and you slowly glance down at yourself in fast mounting horror. His cock stretches across your stomach, leaving a sticky trail of precum in its wake when he nudges his hips closer to line the base up with your cunt and settle into place. 
It feels like the earth itself is opening up under you to swallow you whole. He’s almost long enough to touch your bellybutton, and that was to say absolutely nothing of his girth. His size makes you look small and incredibly petite in comparison, so much slighter than him in every way that you feel more certain than ever that it’s not going to fit. There was no way it would. 
“Right here,” He intones, squeezing at the soft pouch around your middle and digging his thumb in for emphasis. “This is how much of you I am going to take for myself. Are you ready for me?” 
A half strangled sob bursts out of your mouth. “No, no, no, no —“ 
Ignoring your mouse squeak protests, Aziz repositions himself at your entrance and slowly leans into you, sinking into the tight heat of your body one staggered inch of him at a time. You go still as a statue at the oppressive, suffocating sensation, your hands blindly flying up to brace against his broad barrel chest, but you can’t even find the wherewithal to cry out. All you can focus on is the gradual stretch of your body, the way he forces your cunt to spread and make room for him under that stilted pressure and … much to your gaping shock it doesn’t hurt half as bad as you’d expected it to. There was still a pinch of discomfort, your body unaccustomed to taking something so large, but the aphrodisiac seems to have served its purpose. 
Not only were you soaked and pliant with arousal, but your guts were so soft now that he only needed to exert a small amount of pressure to ease further into you. There is no straining resistance, no tearing, no painful  force necessary to claim your much smaller body for his own. It was staggering to realize how little struggle your cunt actually offers up and you stare at the spot between you two with nothing short of dumbfounded fascination. 
Bit by bit, his length disappears inside you — a quarter, a half, two thirds and then … he’s seated in you straight down to the hilt, Aziz loosing a deep, hissing groan when his pelvis finally presses flush to yours. Whimpering, you spasm on his cock, disoriented and a little too shell shocked to do much of anything else. You’d never felt so full before. So stretched right to the limit and the total lack of pain sends your reeling mind spinning in an endless loop, just trying to grasp what was even happening. You never would have thought it was possible if you hadn’t seen it with your own two eyes. 
“Watch, little adventurer,” He murmurs, drawing a piece of you out of your stupor when he bends close to put his forehead against yours, that loose braid swaying forward to tickle your temple. “Watch how I take you and how your body welcomes me in. You are mine now, and this is the proof.” 
Meaningfully, he drags his amethyst gaze lower and, quaking wildly underneath him, you do the same, following his line of sight to look at where you’re connected. The muscles in his stomach flex, abdominals visibly tensing as he ever so slowly draws his hips back to drag against your inner sleeve. You very nearly go cross eyed at the sensation, so deep and unexpectedly pleasurable it almost sends you shuddering right over the edge, but you force yourself to keep watching. To watch how he pauses at the halfway point, his muscular waist swiveling forward to push back in, in, in, further and further until — the spot just below your bellybutton bulges up at the same time his pelvis meets yours again, and your mouth drops open in disbelief. 
He really was reaching that far into you. 
And you really had taken all of him. 
Wildly clawing at him for something to cling to, you let out a series of frantic, bleating sounds when he slowly starts to angle back again, watching that bulge in your tummy recede and disappear with the retreat of his cock only to come pushing right back in a moment later. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the spot on your lower belly where he keeps pushing up under the skin at an increasingly quicker pace, repeatedly punching the same spot into a soft, rounded bulge. A low ache starts to build deep in your body and somewhere in the back of your cotton stuffed mind you find the wherewithal to realize how sore you were going to be after this. The aphrodisiac would wear off eventually and you would be left in the aftermath to deal with the aching stretch, the throbbing reminder of how he’d felt moving inside of you and the lingering effects of getting pounded by something so big it felt like it was actively rearranging your guts. 
This was in no way what you’d signed up for when you took on this commission, nor is it why you left Mondstadt. 
It’s at that moment, when he’s working his hips hard and fast enough that a steady plap, plap, plap seems to dominate the space inside the tent that you realize you really did miss it. You missed Mondstadt and you wanted to go home. Soon. Immediately after he let you go. 
He would let you go … wouldn’t he?
Crossposted: here
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laurentidal · 5 days
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Monitored Activity
The email had come from IT right at the beginning of the workday with the subject line "Attn HR. Problematic Monitored Activity."
Dear Miss Villanova, In accordance with company policy, we are writing to inform you that employee Joseph Ulish was found to be acting in violation of the company's internet usage policies during our last audit of online activity. We are attaching evidence for your review and action. Thank you, Martin Shore, IT Dept. Head
Lily gave a long sigh. It was the first time an employee had been caught looking at porn on company time, though it was certainly bound to happen eventually. She took a breath and gave herself a little hope. Who knows. Maybe it wasn't porn at all. Maybe Joe was on poker stars or he was shit talking the company on social media.
But as she opened the attached list of websites, she knew that those hopes were false ones.
Sixty-two websites were enumerated and organized by the date of first access. Accompanying the list was a breakdown of how many times each site had been visited and how long he had spent there. Lily whistled softly to her empty office. With these kind of numbers, it was a miracle Joe had gotten any work done. At the very least, he should be getting fired for theft of time.
She opened the first site and was shocked to see only text. Only a glance would tell you that it was almost certainly smut, but still. If he was going to try to get away with porn at work, text was certainly the most effective method for staying under the radar. And what exactly was "erotic mind control?" Out of curiosity, Lily found herself reading the whole way through the story. She wasn't too prudish to admit to herself that he might have been onto something here. Certainly not appropriate for work! But this was certainly… having an effect, shall we say. Perhaps there was some unidentified fetishes still hiding in that brain of hers.
Site number two was actual porn. Just straight up pornography videos. She closed it quickly, lingering just long enough to catch sight of a few choice body parts. She was human after all.
Sites three through eighteen were all social media pages once again dedicated to this mind control stuff. It seemed there were an impossible number of sub-genre's to this already incredibly niche thing. Lily was fascinated. The pages were stories and videos and audio notes. Most fascinating were the pages seemingly dedicated entirely to flashing gifs and spinning graphics. She found herself scrolling through them slower and slower.
She never noticed when her left hand had left her keyboard.
More porn. More smut. More porn. More spirals. More spirals. More spirals.
By the time Lily reached the fiftieth website, her pants were around her ankles. She didn't know how many times she'd brought herself to completion. Her eyes were glassy and unblinking. The words in the stories and the images and comics burned into her psyche. And oh. The spirals.
The spirals.
She wished she could stop and stare at each one forever. But she had a job to do. She had a list to complete. Link sixty-two opened to a website that Joseph had accessed just this morning before she'd arrived. The site was a full screen spiral. Black and white with streaks of red and blue that made it seem more real than reality. And in the middle there was a button that simply read "Submit?"
She clicked it immediately. The button disappeared, leaving her staring at the spiral alone. She had no more work to do. The list was complete. She could just stay like this forever.
The door to her office opened and Joseph entered, followed by Martin.
"I'm so happy you were the one who got to review my file, Miss Villanova," Joseph said. He snapped his fingers and Martin locked the office door and began to undress. "Martin here was the first to comb through my activities. He did just a good job cataloging everything, don't you think? He had to look so long and so close to compile that report. He was shooting his first load before he'd finished reading that first story, weren't you?"
"Yes, Master," Martin said dully as the pair approached.
"He tastes quite nice, Lily," Joseph said right in her ear as she helplessly masturbated to the spiral. "You'll see."
Thanks for reading! If you are a fan of my work, consider buying me a coffee. Any contribution is insanely appreciated. 💖
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to the systems or headmates with rejection sensitive dysphoria (rsd):
living with rsd can be incredibly painful, overwhelming, and isolating. rejection hurts for many, but for us folks with rsd, negative emotions following even a small rejection can quickly snowball or spiral out of control. if you, your collective, or a member of your system deals with rsd, we want to reassure you, support you, and remind you that you are not wrong for having these experiences.
it’s okay to feel hurt after rejection. it’s okay if you split new alters after rejection, or consciously formed headmates to help you cope with rejection. you’re not wrong for having feelings. learning to effectively process and regulate your emotions takes time, and it can be especially difficult for those with rsd. please allow yourself some kindness and understanding whenever you are dealing with the painful aftermath of rejection.
whether your rsd is rooted in adhd, autism, anxiety, has multiple causes, or no discernible root at all, remember that it’s okay to feel your feelings. trying to push away or bottle up your negative emotions will likely cause more harm than good in the long run. your thoughts and feelings matter, and you deserve happiness, even if in the moment after rejection you may react in overwhelming or negative ways. you still matter. you are still worthy of love and respect. your rsd does not negate this fact in any way, shape, or form.
people are allowed to reject you. sometimes plans need to be cancelled, people change their minds, set boundaries, turn you down, say no, or refuse a proposal. it may be incredibly painful when these things happen, but please know that neither you nor others are at fault when you are rejected. quite often, rejection is a morally neutral thing. still, as much as rejection can and will happen in your life, you absolutely can leave space for your grief, your pain, your anxiety, and other negative feelings. and hopefully, with time, patience, and practice, you can learn how to more effectively cope with the dysphoria that comes from rejection.
systems and headmates with rsd, please know that we understand the difficulty and heartache that rejection often brings you. our heart goes out to you, and we are wishing you a future of joy, healing, and self-acceptance. it’s okay if you’re struggling to learn how to better regulate your emotions. it’s okay if you haven’t made any progress in handling rejection in better, healthier ways. you’re allowed to exist as you are, and you still deserve to find happiness in your life just the way it is. we genuinely hope that there will be happiness in your future. we care about you, and we’re wishing you all the very best.
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First of all I wanted to say I ADORE how you write Vox. Second (and more controversial) I think your depiction of him/rambles about the Vee dynamic pretty succinctly explains why the Vee polycule just…isn’t gonna happen. I’ve seen a lot of fans talk about Vox dating both Vel and Val, which is cute but also not something in-line with his character.
Obviously there’s the trust issues. This man can barely have friends let alone a partner (let alone TWO). But more interestingly, the narcissism and control issues means the idea of dating Velvette might actually be Vox’s personal hell. She’s an amazing business partner who’s good at her job while taking no shit, and that reflects really well on the Voxtec brand! But as a partner, she’d be reflecting on Vox’s personal tastes.
Paired with some of that remnant 1950s misogyny, it would be easy for him to think he’s the less dominant one in the relationship. She’s stable and hard to manipulate (unlike Val). She’s competent, secure in herself, and most likely not violent enough to relate to Vox’s outbursts (Alastor obviously, but also the wife killing thing). There just isn’t much there for Vox to feel superior about, and that could quickly send him into a spiral about how OTHERS perceive him.
On that subject, Velvette is INCREDIBLY perceptive. As a partner, she’d be much MUCH too close to Vox for comfort. She’d pick up on subtle reactions in a way Val just can’t/doesn’t prioritize enough to try. Maybe she carefully treads around his weak points when it comes to business, but if they were to get into an actual fight? She’d emotionally devastate him to the point he might not be able to pick up the pieces.
Lmao yes, certainly. This woman would ruin him. C'mon, one of the first things she said was "cut the bullshit Vox". Vox bullshits his way through life! He wouldn't survive being called out daily. He desperately needs all these advantages he has over Val, it makes the relationship balanced and Vox can feel secure in it. So yeah, I think you described it perfectly why him and Velvette are not really a good match.
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Also I have a very strong headcanon that Vox used to be crazily attracted to Velvette because on the surface she seems to be everything he wants in the partner. They could be a perfect power couple managing hell's greatest empire together. But the first attempt at flirting went so fucking wrong they agreed to never do this again (Vox was crying in the pillow from the embarrassment afterward, Velvette was kind enough to never mention it)
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lucy90712 · 6 months
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New wonder kid- Fermin Lopez
These last few months have been absolutely crazy and there was absolutely no warning or time to prepare. My boyfriend Fermin has played football for his entire life and he has been under Barcelonas academy for a long time as well. Over the preseason he began training with the first team which was a huge achievement for him and I was so incredibly proud but I could never have predicted what it would lead to. Fermin went on the preseason tour expecting to maybe get a few minutes at the end of games which he did but no one expected him to burst onto the scene and play so well. When he scored in the Classico I was so excited and proud of him I couldn't sleep that night. Since preseason Fermin has been with the first team for every game and I've never seen him so motivated every day when he goes to training. 
As much as it has been wonderful to see Fermin finally achieving his dreams all of this has brought about a lot of changes in our lives. The two of us have been together for a long time and him playing football has never really been a big deal sure he has training a lot and I will go to his games but it's never been more than that. Now with the media getting involved things have just spiralled out of control. People are always stopping Fermin in the street and asking him to sign things while he is driving to training. The change happened so quickly it's been hard to keep up let alone to cope with it all. Before we would happily go our together to do things or go on dates just like any other couple but now I'm too scared of what might happen to even go outside with Fermin. 
I have always just been a normal girl I went to school like everyone else and now I am studying at university. There is absolutely nothing interesting about me whatsoever my family don't have loads of money and they don't have hugely important jobs we are all just a normal family. This is why I'm so scared of being seen with my own boyfriend now as I just know people are going to try and find out everything they can about me and judge me for being a normal person. I have also never been a big fan of social media sure I use it occasionally but my life isn't on there so the thought of people possibly taking pictures of me and Fermin out together and putting them on social media scares me as then everything is out of my control. 
With Fermin's new schedule the two of us haven't had as many date nights as we usually would and when we do they are always us just chilling in the apartment together. This has been perfect as it has meant I haven't had to tell Fermin about my stupid fears or have him think I don't want to be with him anymore because I really do. However my luck is running out as recently Fermin has been begging me to go to one of the games and I'm beginning to run out of excuses, saying I have work to do can only get me so far before he starts to get suspicious. There is another home game this weekend which he has been begging me to go to as he scored in the teams last game and he wants me to be there to finally watch him play on the big stage in person. All week I've been telling Fermin that I would try and get my work done in time to be able to go which is just a coverup for me to either gather the confidence or come up with a better excuse, neither of which are going well. 
I had the day off of classes today so I have been working on assignments and just sitting and thinking for most of the day. I finished some of my work and have been chilling on my phone looking at football gossip pages which only makes me more anxious about my situation as I see what fans say about players rumours partners and wonder what they would say about me as I'm not a model like most other girl. Just as I was beginning to go down a deep rabbit hole the door opened and a tired looking Fermin came in. 
"Hi amor how was your day?" I asked 
"It was good but training was long and hard today" he said 
"How about you relax and I make us some dinner, what do you fancy?" I asked 
"Can we just sit for a bit first I've missed spending time with you" he said 
"Of course come and cuddle with me" I smiled opening my arms for him 
He laid down on my chest and I began to run my fingers through his hair which usually relaxes him but I could feel he was still a little tense which meant there was something on his mind still. Fermin is one of those who can worry about a lot of little things thats one of the things we are alike in so overtime I've learnt to know when its something I should be concerned about and when it isn't and this seems like something I should ask about. 
"What's on your mind Fer?" I asked 
"Do you still love me?" He asked right back 
"What of course I do I love you so much why do you ask" I said
"I just feel like you don't want to be around me anymore you used to always come to my games and now I can't get you to even come to one" he said 
"Oh amor I'm sorry if I made you feel like that but the reason is because I'm nervous everyone knows who you are now and thats great but I don't know if I'm comfortable with all the attention it would garner if we went out together" I explained 
"So you still want to go places with me you are just scared" he questioned 
"Yeah I've seen what fans say about all these models other players are dating and I'm just a normal person I'm not anything special so I don't even want to know what they would have to say about me" I said 
"I understand carino but I promise you that no matter what people think I know my feelings for you and nothing will change that I want to show you off and bring you along on this journey too so please come to the game this weekend I promise I'll do everything I can to protect you" he said 
"I trust you so I'll got but I can't promise that I won't be nervous" I laughed 
"I get that but I want you to have fun too" he said 
"I will definitely have fun I always do when watching you" I said
~~~~~~~~~~
Today is finally match day and to be honest I think I'm more nervous than I am excited. This day has been on my mind all week and last night I didn't sleep at all because all I was thinking about was everything that could go wrong today and what people might be saying on social media after the game. I know it's such a stupid thing to worry about and in the grand scheme of things this moment won't matter especially when Fermin is celebrating winning trophies but right now it seems like a big deal. Before Fermin and I got together I was deeply insecure and he has helped me so much and now I'm in a much better place so I really don't want to go back but I can't control the comments and I certainly can't predict how I will cope with them. 
Since he woke up Fermin has been trying to keep me distracted and reassure me that everything will be ok. He is doing everything he can but today he can't beat the demons that still live in the back of my brain. As much as I admired my fears to him I never told Fermin the full extent of my worries as he worries about me enough already and he needs to be focused for the game so I don't want him to have anything extra on his mind. If he knew he'd tell me that he doesn't care and he just wants to help me but I care about him too much to have him stressing about me when I can cope on my own. 
The day felt like it went by at lightening speed and before I knew it Fermin was telling to to get ready as we needed to leave. Once we got in the car Fermin's hand grabbed mine straight away and he held it tightly squeezing it every now and then to reassure me. Most of the drive was fine but as we got close to the training ground there was a lot more fans in the streets who all had their phones out taking pictures and filming. That's when it really hit me that there is no going back now from now on I'll be known as Fermin's girlfriend and some people will actually care about what I do. I could feel myself getting more and more anxious as we got closer to the training centre and there was so many people on the pavements and in the road it was just very overwhelming. 
Finally when the car stopped I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding as well as I sigh of relief knowing that the worst part was over. I was so in my own world that I didn't hear Fermin talking to me until he put his hand on my cheek and turned me to face him. For some reason I expected him to be mad at me for not listening or for getting anxious but his expression was soft and his eyes had a loving look in them. 
"Are you ok amor?" He asked 
"I'm ok now that was intense I can't believe you deal with that everyday" I said
"You get used to it but do you promise you are ok" he said 
"Yeah I promise thank you for holding my hand it made it a lot easier" I replied 
With that he got out the car and ran around to open my door for me like he always does so we could head inside before the team head off to the stadium. Fermin got permission from Xavi to let me come on the coach with them because he didn't want me to have to go alone which I'm glad about as having to navigate the stadium on my own sounds stressful. He promised that he wouldn't leave me on my own at any point so when we got inside he text Gavi who was already ready to leave and he waited with me while Fermin got ready himself. I have known Gavi for the longest time but with him playing for the first team I don't get to see him as much as I used to so by actually going places with Fermin I should get to spend more time with some old friends. 
"Good to see you again hermana how have you been? Gavi asked
"I've been good busy with school as usual what about you?" I replied 
"Same as always I'm glad you agreed to come Fermin has been so happy ever since plus its nice to have you around" he said 
"Thats sweet I'm glad he's excited" I smiled thinking about Fermin 
"I know you're nervous but I promise everything will be fine the other girlfriends know you're coming and they can't wait to meet you plus once the fans get to know you there is no way they can hate you and if they do there is something wrong with them" he said 
"Thanks gavi I really appreciate you saying that" I said 
After that Fermin came rushing out and grabbed my hand again so we could get on the bus. The trip luckily wasn't long and once everyone was inside I met all of the other wives and girlfriends who were at the game and we all sat together getting to know each other. The longer I was there the more I began to relax as they have all been through this before and they are all ok and happy in their relationships which made the future seem not so scary. They were all so lovely and made me feel instantly welcome in the group they even added me to their group chat so we could all meet up at some point. 
Before I knew it the game had begun and was over the team win and Fermin scored an important goal. I was so proud of him and I couldn't wait to see him so I rushed down to greet him after he was ready. As soon as I saw him I jumped into his arms which he wasn't expecting but he still managed to catch me and stay on his feet. I don't think either of us could have a bigger smile on our faces even if we wanted to I was so over the moon that he scored and he was so happy he could've done it with me there. Even when he scored he dedicated the goal to me like he always used to which made the moment so special to the point that I didn't care when the camera pointed towards me. I kissed him a few times before he put me down and we made it back outside to team bus so we could finally go home which I can't wait for as it's been a long day.
~~~~~~~~~~
As always Fermin's alarm woke me up even though it's Sunday because he's insane and likes to get up and go to the gym. Usually I go back to sleep straight away especially on a weekend but today I sat up and grabbed my phone because I wanted to look at what was being said after yesterday. I know Fermin posted a picture of us so that any rumours were cleared up straight away but I haven't seen it so I wanted to just look at everything. I had only just unlocked my phone when Fermin came back in from the bathroom and took it right out my hands. 
"Sorry but I think it's best if you don't look at this today" he said 
"I'll be fine I promise" I said trying to convince him to give my phone back 
"Not happening I'm keeping home of this today and you can have it back when things have calmed down tomorrow if anything important happens I will tell you" he said 
"Are things really that bad?" I asked 
"No most comments are nice I just don't want you searching for the few bad comments" he says 
"You know me too well" I laughed 
"How about you come to the gym with me and we spend the day together so you are distracted plus I have missed your cuddles" he said 
"I very much like that idea" I replied 
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council-of-beetroot · 3 months
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do it. infodump about soviet-era lithuania
Alright, I just love it when people are dragged back to square one and are forced to go through something all over and I feel that's where we start with Tolys post world war two.
I like the idea of Tolys being MIA and Ivan tracking him down in the woods of Lithuania as Tolys ran off to be a partisan. And I especially like the idea of when Ivan finds Tolys he does something idk what but details later to remind Tolys that he belongs to Ivan. Because G-D I love that especially when Tolys is surrounded by his own countrymen. Idk I just picture Ivan being like oh litva time to go home now say good bye to your little friends. To which the others are shot. Idk this tangent but I have like 100 words of a draft somewhere with this.
I think Tolys' mindset is dominated by a few key things when he returns. One is that Ivan will want to test and test his loyalty and want to retrain that obedience. Similar to being dragged back after uprisings in the imperial era. Two is that he has the others to worry about, Raivis and Eduard. Three during the era under Russian imperial rule Tolys had to learn that it's often best with slow subtle resistance rather than putting your all into uprisings that inevitably will fail. But that often feels to Tolys like he is doing nothing since he doesn't see living another day as resistance. Plus he feels his people are hurting and he feels powerless.
But subtle resistance is hard. It takes a lot of will and Ivan is trying to break that will every day so it takes a lot for Tolys to survive. Ivan is not holding back either.
I feel like Ivan during this point is under a lot more pressure to keep up a façade that he has everyone in order. Imperial Russia didn't really care about it's acquisitions but Soviet Russia has to pretend like they do. I also think Ivan hasn't become disillusioned or maybe he has it is just not aware enough to him at this point where Ivan believes that this time things will work give it enough time pressure and definitely some violence.
I think Ivan definitely makes Tolys feel more responsible for Raivis and Eduard more than he already is because it's a great way to keep Tolys in line. Tolys in situations where he doesn't have much control will grasp at anything that gives him a sense of control and Ivan gives him an insane amount of responsibility because Tolys is responsible for how it turns out. And in Tolys' mind this means he has control over whether things go well or not and his brain quickly spirals to the point where if he can't control everything everyone around him will suffer and it's his fault.
I feel like Ivan keeps Tolys incredibly busy and also ensures that Tolys doesn't have much time to himself. And it keeps Tolys in a hyper alert state.
Fuck I could literally just write a fic where it's nothing except the breaking in process of Tolys because fuck i love that kind of shit. I mean that's why I wrote the maid fic after all.
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wowowwild · 1 year
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For my krisnix enjoyers. Pls accept my ramblings below.
Good evening. It's me, Mx. Wild. First and foremost, I don't think anyone does, but I definitely do not think they are health, just to be exceedingly clear. Also these are my mostly canon compliant musings, I have other 'if this, then that' headcanons I'm not shoving in here bc nobody has the time for all of that at once. Now, moving on.
Look, Phoenix has bad taste. Kristoph is known to make horrible decisions. Match made in a hell equivalent. Kris wants to keep Phoenix close bc he's paranoid, Phoenix wants to keep Kris close bc he's a sketchy mf (imo).
I think Phoenix would know Kris wanted something out of the relationship. Some random guy he doesn't know stands up for him and tries to be besties with him all of a sudden? Kristoph could absolutely spin it that he knew the legendary Phoenix Wright would never and he feels bad bc it was his little brother who exposed the fake and is so appalled that someone would frame Phoenix and he wants to get to the bottom of it. That's even believable. I don't think that takes away from the clear indication that Kristoph wants something out of the relationship.
And Phoenix isn't stupid. Don't get me wrong, mans is dumb of ass, but he's incredibly intelligent. I think fairly early on if not immediately he would expect that the relationship (at this point budding friendship) is transactional to a certain degree. And honestly, he would get a lot out of it, too. Someone definitively believes he's innocent and is helping him through the worst years of his life. At some point Phoenix figures out the truth, but I don't see any universe where him knowing that is immediate. There would be too much going on. They have time.
From Kristoph's perspective, he needs to keep Phoenix close and figure out what he knows at all times. Kristoph isn't stupid either, just spiralling further and further out of control. Once Phoenix begins to suspect, it's a matter of time before Kristoph suspects that he suspects. Whole lot of suspecting going on. But until then they have time.
So while they have time, they 're both putting into this relationship they have. They're 'friends'. From the outside it wouldn't look like it, but they care, Phoenix might care a bit more genuinely on purpose, but Kris would also have to care somewhat after all that time. Even if it was on accident, if someone is a big enough part of your life, even if you hate them, you start to care.
I think the type of person Phoenix is, is someone that Kristoph has not seen a lot of. Phoenix and Klavier are pretty similar, I can see him drawing some parallels, but he's not really close to Klavier at this point. I think Phoenix's true personality would be pretty disarming for Kris, he wouldn't know what to do, how to act towards someone like Phoenix. With that loss of control and stability, I can find him accidentally very quickly coming to care to Phoenix, despite also hating him. As strange as it is to say, you can hate someone without disliking them, just like you can love someone without liking them.
So taking this time, we've come to a situation where they care for each other. Depending on how long they have, maybe they've come to love each other platonically, romantically, and/or otherwise. But at some point Phoenix begins to suspect. It would be complicated for him. He doesn't want to suspect his friend of being a forger or eventually a murderer. It's hard to say exactly when those two dots might connect or which came first, but at some point he realizes these things. So what happens then?
Phoenix has learned his poker face by now, but Kristoph knows him fairly well at this point too. Phoenix can probably keep the fact that he's suspicious under wraps for a while. Even though Kris knows him well enough to eventually see through, Phoenix knows Kristoph well enough to know how to hide it. Kristoph can never get out of Phoenix anything definitive. Nothing that could be used as an admission. At this point they both know what game they're playing and that the other is in just as deep.
At this point, it would hurt them both deeply if they had fallen into a committed relationship (qpr, romantic relationship, exclusive fwb, etc.). Phoenix has to have some PTSD about the Dahlia situation, and Kristoph doesn't strike me as the type to have thought much about that type of relationship before if at all. He's honestly way too paranoid imo. I think it would cut them both deeply either way, but having someone you've committed to sizing you up like that hits a little different in most cases. (I am aroace but i've been in relationships, I am working based off of my own experiences which are not universal.)
They're out of time now. Any day the other shoe could drop. Kristoph could take Phoenix out of the game once and for all. Phoenix could find the one piece of evidence he needs to pull the curtain crashing down on Kristoph. In the end, it's the latter, but until that day they're frozen, stuck pretending everything is ok, playing their roles the best way they know how, time is standing still around them.
And then a hard rubber sole meets the concrete. That is my broad interpretation of the relationship between smarmy bitch Kristoph and shady asshole Phoenix (affectionate in both cases). I could pick all my little headcanons about this, that, and the other thing to show you, but I'll do that later if y'all want. (pls ask me questions, I would love to explore answers to them)
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dixbolik-lovers · 1 year
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some general hcs for ricther, karlheinz and yui for sub au? my babies haven't been getting the attention lately
Underappreciated characters, yayyyy~ XD
. . .
Richter
• Once he's attached to you, Richter is needy. And even more so if the relationship places him in a fully submissive role. It's easy for him to spiral into that kind of mindset— the only problem is that it makes him even more desperate. Being able to show how desperately he wants your love without any expectation of taking the lead is more comfortable for Richter than he ever would have expected, and it just enforces how much he adores you.
• He very much likes feeling "owned". Not having to compete for scraps of your attention is an incredible relief on its own, but Richter greatly enjoys it when you go out of your way to show your possession. He probably should be more concerned with his apparent lack of dignity, but when willing submission ends in finally feeling loved, it's difficult to care much about pride.
Karlheinz
• It's a strange dynamic with Karlheinz. Outwardly, he appears as intimidating and composed as ever, even when far less regal things are happening whenever you're alone. He doesn't show his submission in openly obvious ways... but you'll quickly learn the signs that he's wanting to be "put in his place". For Karlheinz, the act of submitting to you is almost a game. He wants you to take control on your own, and force him to feel in the process.
• There's a long period of time where he's almost in denial. Karlheinz tries to act like your relationship is nothing more than him finding a bit of entertainment in someone who could never truly best him, even when he's clearly surrendering himself to you with full willingness. Of course, that just means that you get the fun of making him understand just how much he wants it all.
Yui
• You don't have to do much to get her into that sort of role. Yui is fairly submissive, to begin with— just very flustered about that part of your relationship. After everything she's been through with the vampires, though, it's easier to accept anything, so long as she's being treated kindly. Especially once she sees how happy it makes you, Yui is a sweet, willing submissive, and she slowly manages to relax into the faith that you won't be cruel with that.
• She definitely does best with more of a "soft dom". While Yui does have her masochistic side, she's had more than enough of being roughed up without any tenderness to make up for it. It's a lot easier for her to enjoy sweet words and soft touches along with the moments of pleasure-pain, and the kindness definitely helps her accept that there's nothing she needs to be ashamed of.
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whirlwindimagines · 1 year
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Can you do a vash x reader where the reader is getting overestimed and vash helps them calm down and comforts them?
Me running to write this after my therapy session, In all seriousness lol I did make this being about overstimulated, kinda then it got a little more. I've taken from my own thoughts and feelings for this one, since when I get overstimulated it can spiral out of control for me. No, I didn't just write this about Vash comforting ME shut up. Also, I wrote this a little differently, I wrote this how I feel a panic attack feels. So it may feel a little wild and disjointed, so stick with me <3
‘They see right through, Can you see right through me? I see right through me’
Vash x Reader
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You should be celebrating, everyone else was. Why was this so hard, why were you so difficult, why are you so broken? Your mind can’t help but supply that thought to you, and it makes your chest burn it burns hard enough that you can’t even breathe, have you ever been able to breathe? 
It was all too much, sitting here in some dark forgotten corner while everyone celebrated around you. Having fun, existing without a problem. Your rag-tag group of friends managed to save this no-name town from bandits, and well instead of being chased from a town like usual, they were drinking and celebrating in your honor. It was a good change of pace for everyone, they deserved this. Did you? Did you deserve any of this, your friends?
Glancing up briefly, you spot Meryl trying and failing to rein in Wolfwood, Roberto at the bar drinking happily, and Vash…. actually, you don't see Vash at all. For a brief moment, all your own worries and fears are forgotten, you hoped he wasn't getting into trouble…. he had an incredible knack for it. You don't think you’ve met anyone with such bad luck. 
But then you spot him, shyly accepting praise from those around him, a smile that you can tell isn't fake. And for another moment you find peace in that, if anyone deserves to celebrate its him. You let your senses focus on Vash, just being in his presence was enough for you. Maybe you should get up and join them, you decide to, even going as far as to stand from your seat.
And then that familiar feeling, the doubt, the worry, the fear, it's all too much. It's always too fucking much. The lights, the sounds, the people. It's like you can never be. Never exist in the moment, and every fleeting moment of happiness is ruined by the fact. It's too much and you're too little. You can't be here anymore; without a second thought you turn and leave. 
The fresh air is like a Godsend, keep moving, just go, leave it behind. And you do because isn't that the easiest thing you can do for yourself? Gracefully exit the scene, no big productions, a forgotten side character in somebody else's story, because how could the story ever be yours? Your mind is working a mile a minute, it's doesn’t even make sense. You keep walking until you reach the center of town, a lovely fountain sits in the center, it's painfully quiet, and just what you need. 
Sitting on the edge of the fountain, leaning forward to grip your head. Begging for it to stop, for just a moment. Why can’t you enjoy anything? This is ridiculous and pathetic, five….no ten minutes tops and then you’ll force yourself to go back. You just need to breathe. This was fine, you’ll be fine. 
However, the gentle hand on top of your head startles you, sitting up quickly your gaze quickly connects to Vash’s concerned one. Oh, that’s all you can come up with, because why is he here? Shouldn't Vash be with the others, having fun with people who can understand how to? “Are you okay?” Why does he have to speak to you in that gentle way? Why does he always just know? For a second and because you're a fucking idiot, you're angry. Standing quickly Vash removes his hand to stare at you with a question in his eyes, as his arm falls to his side. 
“I’m fine.” Your tone is cold, and straight to the point, his expression shifts, and it's just not fair how can someone possibly look at you like that? Like you hung the stars and the moon? Like your someone to be seen and looked at. “You’re a bad liar did you know that?” his tone is as always kind, but you can sense a hint of something more a plea to be honest with him. 
You are like a wild animal cornered; this is not why you ran out here. You don't want to talk, what was the point? Talking didn't fix what was broken inside of you, nothing could fix that. The sound of your name makes you look up, and you tense. Vash stood closer in front of you, not touching you, but if he reached out his hand he could. It was more the look in his eyes that made you freeze, he looked… tired? No, sad? That wasn't the word for it either… was it longing? 
“You don't have to pretend with me.”
Is that what you do? Pretend to be a person, pretend that you can make it through the day, pretend that your mind isn't a jumbled mess of too much and too little, and pretend that you're happy. Yeah, you guess he's right. The anger leaves you at once, shoulders dropping. “I don't know what to say.” and isn't that the truth, wouldn’t it be easier if you just could figure it out if you just knew? 
Vash’s face lights up, not because you are upset, but because it's the first honest answer he has gotten out of you in weeks. Nervously as if reaching for a wild animal, he reaches a hand out to you palm up. You stare at it, your eyes flickering from his hand to his bright blue eyes. “That’s okay! You don't have to say anything, not right now. Or ever even! I just want you to know…I care… and I get it.” he is rambling in that nervous way he does, his voice cracking a bit at the end you can see the embarrassed blush that sits on his cheeks. 
It makes your eyes soften and smile, his hand touches your face then, holding your cheek, and your breath hitches. His thumb rubs the top of your cheek, right under your eye. He’s smiling now too, and oh no, you think you have a new problem now… but one you don't mind facing. Well, you do mind, it's a little scary, but it makes your heart race in a nice fluttery way not the burn you're used to. “It's…hard to explain, I just… everything feels like too much?” You can’t meet his gaze. “Sorry, that makes no sense.” You say this with a small laugh. 
Your gaze drifts back to his when his other hand comes up to cup your other cheek, the feeling between his mechanical hand and his flesh hand is… nice. “No, it makes sense, you’re doing great.” The praise makes you blush, yeah this is going to be a big problem, future you are going to have to deal with that one. “Vash, thank you.” it's such a simple thing to say, but you hope he understands.
He does, how could he not? When it comes to you, he’ll do whatever it takes to understand, to just listen. You don’t need to talk or explain anything to him, he’s here and he’ll be here as long as you need it, which he hopes is a long time, because God does he need you.Reaching up with shy hands, you grip his wrists, for the first time all night your mind is settled and at peace. He can’t fix you, because rationally you are not broken. But he helps mend the wounds in your soul, in a way you’ve never felt before, you wish you could tell him just how much you appreciate it, his comfort, the endearing way he acts. You squeeze his wrists, giving him a smile. It feels like the start of something, but right now this moment is enough.
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physalian · 5 months
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Could you make a post about a character slowly losing their humanity while trying to hold onto it? It's a main theme in my current WIP and I cannot for the life of me figure out how to go about it.
Losing their humanity like “The Fly” or “Metamorphosis” where it’s a curse/transformation/sickness, and is both quite literal and mental? Or losing their humanity as in, a character has done unspeakable things and is spiraling into psychopathy?
There’s so many directions you could go here depending on what your genre, rating, and tone is. First, you have to define what humanity means to you as an author and what it means to your world and your characters. Murder might be the worst crime in one novel, and a casual occurrence in another. So, at what point is your character no longer “human”?
This is incredibly specific to your story and advice here is definitely not ‘one size fits all’ so I’ll do my best and I’ll use a very popular movie to back me up: The Dark Knight.
Harvey Dent goes from saint to savage in less than 3 hours, about… I think three weeks maybe in-universe? The movie pulls this off in a few ways:
Right off the bat, there’s hints that this character has a loose circuit somewhere. Comics fans know he becomes Two Face, but layman audiences are still thrown a bone with Harvey’s rather quick rise to prominence in infamously-crime-ridden Gotham. So, he’s not starting as Mr. Rodgers.
Harvey’s job puts immense pressure on him to perform with a lot to lose if he fails. This makes his room for error to avoid catastrophe very narrow and raises the stakes for every action he takes. In essence, any one mistake can be devastating, making catastrophe more believable in the story.
When he starts losing, he loses a lot very quickly. Harvey is bombarded with the mob gremlins trying to escape the law, the Joker running around blowing up holes in the justice system and raining chaos everywhere, his wishy-washy girlfriend who’s hesitant to accept his proposal, and increasing pressure to hand over his hero, Batman, to a maniac, to stop the murders, and he can’t do much of anything about it. Even with small victories, it’s one step forward and three steps back and he’s being fundamentally and existentially thwarted at every turn.
He’s desperate, afraid, and powerful, three *very* bad traits in combination. His slippery slide into madness gets a little steeper when he kidnaps a criminal and screams through an interrogation, then it drops off a cliff when Rachel dies instead of him in a so-called game of chance.
“Chance” here, and Harvey’s ability and presumption of control, is his whole identity. He’s Two-Face. He’s got a double-headed coin to rig his bets. When Rachel dies, he’s lost control over everything, and he just shatters. She dies and he lives and he abandons his core values to embrace Joker’s vision of absolute anarchy, because what’s the point in trying to fight fate?
All of this works despite this monster of a plot, where he’s not even the main villain, because he had so far to fall, and the world of Batman lends itself to insanity coming on quickly. Joker even says that “madness is like gravity, all you need is a little push”.
So without having any details on your WIP I’d have this to say:
Figure out what moral code or person or object your character holds most central to their identity
Circle the drain of destroying it, forcing the character to grow desperate enough to protect it, going to ends they normally wouldn’t with the best of intentions
Destroy that thing
Let them crumble in the aftermath as they can no longer reconcile their core beliefs with the world they live in, and lash out as the wounded animal they’ve become
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dairy-farmer · 5 months
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Sneaking back iiiin~☆ After a period of being away o/
D-Lister Otome Powers POG? I think SO! CONSIDER:
Tim, out on patrol, things have been... tense. He's gotten Bruce back from the timeline, but it hasn't FIXED anything. Things were said. He spiraled. Trust was betrayed. He doesn't... he doesn't feel like he HAS a home anymore.
Dick feels betrayed and worried TOO. He needed Tim's support. Instead he broke down, went rouge, and nearly DIED. Didn't explain ANYTHING. Now he's drifting away from the family.
Bruce is barely recovered. His family is in pieces around him and he's pretty sure it's his fault.
So... Patrol is... Professional. Tense. Like it has been for days.
Red Robin is checking out some minor disturbance. Discovers clues that it's some INCREDIBLY naive or foolish out-of-towner who thinks they can "make a name for themselves" in America's crime capital. Idiot is going to get himself killed.
But why target a minor gaming company?
No matter, RR can handle it. He's tired, patrols nearly over. Should be quick.
The days after weeks of hurt and hypertense emotions have left him exhausted. Making mistakes he would normally NEVER make. Like going after an unknown alone. No matter how small they SEEM.
You could always be wrong.
And that KILLS.
Batman trained him better then that. Bruce, catches his plan, too late. Is blocks away. Can hear, through Tim's comms, the most terrifying sort of confidence in that opponents voice. Not fool hardy overconfidence. Not arrogance. But "I have a nasty trick that I KNOW you can't counter". Tim. Tim, get out of there! TIM!
Red Robin does not respond.
And Tim? Wakes up with a splitting headache. Too... honestly? What looks A LOT frilly, hyper feminine version of one of Drake Manor's guest rooms. But with "personal touches" added to make it LOOK like someone supposedly lives here. Too generic though. And too artfully placed. It looks like a movie set.
Where the fuck is h-*DING!*
Then a blue screen like some of the holographic screens he's seen before, pops up. "Welcome to ☆~Knights In Gotham~☆! Complete the game or be trapped forever~♡!" It reads in cutesy font.
Well that ONE way to get him out of bed. But unfortunately, it takes less then 15 minutes to confirm that he is, indeed, not in his native reality. MIGHT be drugged or hypnotized. He'll have to test. But the whole new reproductive set, suggest otherwise.
So he pokes around. Speed runs his emotional "I'm trapped, might never see my family again. No. No! I WILL escape!" Character arc/mental breakdown in the shower. Finds some pants.
Figures out what sort of game this is. It's an Otome game. Dating. Based on? His FAMILY. Fffffuck his life.
Okay, should be TOO bad right? People never get their personalities right in fan stuff. Thanks to the Bats being Cryptids. So Tim can just pretend they're other people, right?
Wrong.
The game world he quickly realizes, is using HIS knowledge to fill in the blanks of the massively unfinished framework. This assholes Meta powers? Can only trap him IN here. He's not in control of it. NO ONE IS. Oh, that's so much worse.
Outside? Bruce has BatDad'd panic beat downed the Otome Meta. Where is his BABY BOY!? He can't answer you unconscious, Bruce. Thankfully, Dick is observant. There us a computer on. With Tim on it. He puts two and two together. They are able to keep the power on and transfer the computer to the cave.
Meanwhile? Tim is staring down a Bruce in FULL Brucie Mask. Debating with himself. Because on ONE hand? Childhood wet dreams: Get? But on the OTHER, baggage for daaaaays. And there us no guarantee this isn't a PG title. So like? Bruce would DEFINITELY be the hardest Route, wouldn't he?
He has no idea what he's doing.
He doesn't PLAY these type of games.
He figures, since demon child DOESNT have a reason to hate him here? Probably the safest bet. Especially since he won't feel as bad manipulating a version of him. It should be fine right?
Wrong. He doesn't play these sort of games. Is unaware of how they work and what's at stake. He bungles it. Doesn't play to the troupes, gets his first Bad End. He knew just a touch TOO much, too soon, too openly. Damian's character became convinced he was either a Rouge or an Assassin. But! He got all those "heart event" thingies! Tim mentally protests!
Which is why it doesn't just cut to black, a sudden attack from behind, "Game Over".
No, Tim wakes up behind bars. In a bunker. Nicer then a prison cell, but only just. Because Damian LOVES him. But can not allow him to continue his criminal ways. So he's going to rehabilitate him. By force if necessary. And he knows, because he is not a fool, that Tim does not truely love him. But?
He can fix that too.
They have time.
Outside? Actual Damian is horrified. His feelings towards Drake are... complexe. But this?! Absolutely not! He lunges forward. Dick is trying desperately to hit the Restart. It's not working. Damian hits it HARDER. It works immediately. (They later realize only the "Route" target can restart the game)
Tim wakes up in the starting room.
This time he fuckin LOOKS UP Otome Games on a computer.
Takes a bracing shot of whiskey, because this IS Drake Manor and he knows where his parents hid the good stuff, and tries again. Gets the Neutral End. Fuck! Okay, tries AGAIN. Gets shot, Game Over. Oh god damn it!
He keeps going.
Nothing seems to be WORKING. He's getting stressed. Lonely, desperate, hopelessness trying to set in. He just... just wants to feel WARM you know? Reassured. Held. Knows he's not thinking clearly, but...
So he goes after "Brucie". He KNOWS Bruce. Knows how he picks his one night stands. Knows how to dress up just enough, just OFF enough, to not be suspicious. It's a bad idea. He knows it as he gets dressed. As he arrives. Flirts. Charms and drinks, but not too much. Let's himself be tucked under Bruce's arm. Led away.
Kon always said he was great with his mouth. From the way "Brucie" tenses, like iron under the sild of his suit, holding himself back from grabbing and being rougher then his reputation would allow? He'd say Bruce agrees. Tim certainly puts his all into it. Let's himself lose himself to the rhythm of movement. The scent of Bruce's cologne. The slide over his tounge.
Stolen moments though, aren't enough to get to everything Bruce wants.
The party ends too soon. And Tim leaves with the other guests.
Only to find himself FIRMLY in Bruce's route. The man showing up everywhere. Stealing kisses. Hands disappearing under clothes. Bruce, as he tends too, obsessed. In love. Overwhelming. Tim finally, FINALLY get a Good End.
He also gets fucked, in his bed, within an inch of incoherence, by Batman.
Yet the Game does not release him. Because it did not say "complete A Route" the realse conditions were Complete the GAME. So now Tim has to "win" the others.
All while they watch.
Because THEY are the only ones who can start a new route. Bruce absolutely could have hit that restart once the Good End popped up. Yet... he let the scene play out. Sat, alone, having sent the others to bed... and watched his son get fucked by a version of himself. Watched his son gasp and whimper, cry out and sob, in pleasure.
They each get to watch. As Tim bonds with "them". Spends time with "them".
Eventually, Tim manages the secret Harem Ending. Stumbles free into the waiting arms of his family. They rejoince. But the question remains~! What will they do know? After so long, thinking darkly that they could "do better"? That TIM deserved better then the touch of imposters? That is the question we ask! As I run out of steam and need to sleep! Thoughts?
-🐼🐼🐼
tim's family watching as he works through all their "routes" 👀👀👀👀
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