swordsmans · 2 years ago
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Sadly I don’t have any demon Zoro fic recommendations (although I am constantly on the lookout), but Lunaisanartist makes a lot of good demon Zoro art!
oh hell yeah! their art is soooo good!! if we're compiling a list of demon zoro artists too i highly recommend:
@swamp-teeth <- out here doing god's work in a barren wasteland, also single-handedly holding me together on spotify
@toboldlymuppet <- needs no introduction. the original, the icon, the inspiration
@lunaisanartist <- aouugugh their style is just SOOOO good; also responsible for the moth zoro/luffy designs that own my ass and the "mi capitan" animatic
@restnonepiece <- inactive now but their wano demon zoro au is a delight!! their comics are extremely funny
i can't speak for the demon zoro scene on twitter and i confess these are all zolu artists so demon zoro aus for other ships/gen may also exist! these were just my go-tos when i needed that sweet sweet inspo
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otterlycurly · 5 months ago
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Hey you! See this? 👇🏼
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This?
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This right here???
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MAKES ME GO FERAL
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deermouth · 6 months ago
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Hey Guys Did You Know That Dungeon Meshi: It's Good.
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sicktwistedlimpwristed · 3 months ago
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Oh new alien movie on that freak shit fr?? LOCKED IN!!!!!
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fallow-hollow · 6 months ago
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loved your kabru fic!! would you be willing to write a 5+1 chilchuck/reader fic? along the lines of “5 times they nearly kissed, and 1 time post-canon where they actually did”?
count to six
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…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader
…tags! pining, almost kisses, arguments but they make up, extremely minor manga spoilers, chilchuck being bad with feelings, pre-relationship and post-relationship, most of these take place pre-canon
…word count! 3697
…notes! i think receiving a chilchuck request is just a rite of passage for a dunmeshi blog at this point. i hope the old man likers are pleased by this one!
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one
You’d always admired Chilchuck, really. And not just in a professional sense, mind you.
Of course you respected his skills and his professionalism, but after working with him for some time, you could clearly see that there was so much more about him that continued to catch your eye. Those little slips in his usual attitude were what fascinated you, keeping you waiting for the next snippet of his personality you could get a glimpse of.
As a man of great pride in his profession, accepting help or being “coddled” weren’t exactly on Chilchuck’s to-do list. If he was interrupted or goodness forbid challenged while he was trying to do his job, he’d become even crabbier than those literal treasure crabs monsters he hated so much. Nonetheless, you cared for him and your party, so you offered to lend a hand where you felt it was appropriate.
Maybe it was just you, but the half-foot almost seemed more receptive of your intervention than he usually was with others. Perhaps it was because you did your best to be unobtrusive but firm in your offers, cementing yourself not as someone looking down on him, but a teammate who understood the importance of cooperation.
While your professional relationship was an enjoyable one, it was nice to see the man let loose every now and again. Around and after mealtimes he’d become more talkative, especially if he’d had some booze to wash down his helping of whatever was available that night. This particular evening, you’d had a particularly nice stir fry with the grains you’d bought and even a bit of salt-cured meat and some dried legumes that kept extremely well. Even if your meals were sometimes a hodgepodge of whatever would be cheap or long-lasting, it filled you up, and you were grateful for that.
The rest of the party members had just stood up to go and wash their dishes and utensils, and you were about to rise as well before stealing a quick glance at the half-foot next to you and immediately blurting out,
“Oh, you’ve got something.”
Chilchuck could only raise one of his eyebrows, not quite understanding what you meant from your wording. “Something?” he parroted.
“On your face,” you would quickly clarify, leading to spending several seconds watching him try to get it, making both amusement and slight frustration bubble up within you.
In fact, you were so concentrated on wiping off the smeared food with your sleeve that you didn’t even notice the sound of his squeak — yes, his squeak — when you leaned forward to get a closer look. In hindsight, perhaps you’d miscalculated the amount of space between you, because your faces were practically touching, despite you not realizing it at the time. In your concentration, your companion even noticed the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth in concentration. It wasn’t something he’d intended to fixate on, but in the moment it seemed like it was all he could do while he waited for you to be done. After all, it moved suddenly, you two might accidentally…..
“Alright, got it.” You pulled away so quickly that he hardly had time to comprehend the motion before your grinning face was already visible, albeit more distant now. Only after the fact would you realize that you had most certainly invaded his personal space without asking, though it felt too late to really apologize for it properly without making things awkward.
What both you and him didn’t notice, however, was the way his ears tinged pink at the proximity between the two of you.
two
With the embarrassment of the previous incident still fresh in your mind, the second offense certainly didn’t fly over your head this time.
Though, with all fairness, it wasn’t like it was something that could be helped. Rather than simple ignorance of personal space, this was a total accident.
In order to progress into the deeper floors of the dungeon, it was only natural that any party would eventually have to deal with some traps getting in their way. Your party in particular was currently being led by your expert, that being Chilchuck, through a plain, narrow hallway that was purportedly rigged with various traps and projectiles.
Both the walls and floor were made of what appeared to be a completely uniform stone construction, but with his keen senses and knowledge of dungeons, Chilchuck was able to deduce a pattern of which stones were safe to step on, the rest being triggers for various dangerous mechanisms.
Everyone was following behind Chilchuck in pretty much single file. He would traverse the safe path, then you would copy his steps, so on and so forth down the line. Usually, this method worked perfectly for these sorts of puzzles, as long as nobody moved too early or had a misstep. Unfortunately for you in particular, a misstep is exactly what you made.
When trying to land gracefully on the ball of your foot, the weight shifted, forcing you to roll onto your ankle with a pained sound. Instinctually, you tried to put your weight back into your other foot and staggered, hardly even comprehending the way you felt the ground beneath you sink ever so slightly.
All you really registered at first was the sound of somebody shouting, not to mention the feeling of your body being tugged forward with a roughness that stemmed not from malice, but from desperation. Someone was tugging on your shirt, so much so that you immediately fell onto your knees and proceeded to slide across the floor for a short distance as well. If you didn’t have something covering your knees, you’re sure that would have hurt like hell.
The pain was just on the cusp of excruciating, making you want to reach down and hold your injured foot, but not before you noticed the warmth of a body directly in front of you, close enough to wrap both arms around.
Chilchuck still had a grasp on your shirt, breathing heavily after what was most certainly a terrifying moment for him. It’s strange, really — he always insisted that he was only here to guide you, not bail you out, but in moments like these, the sight of a party member in harm’s way always seemed to seep through his stoic exterior and inflict him with sheer panic.
You almost wanted to smile at the thought, finding it almost soothing, but you figured it would seem pretty odd considering you’d freshly injured yourself and you were also far too close to your coworker for comfort.
A free hand laid itself on top of Chilchuck’s, still shaky. The man subsequently withdrew his hand, shocked at the unprompted touch despite literally having grabbed you moments before. That was…. different, he attempted to reason to himself.
Some voices sounded from behind the both of you after you withdrew from one another to catch your breath.
“Are you alright?” came a soft voice that you instantly recognized as Falin. “If I could, I’d heal you right now, but I really can’t reach you with these trapped tiles all around. I hope it’s okay that we have to wait until we clear the traps.”
“Not like we have much of a choice, so I’m fine.” You listened to your own voice bounce off the walls, noting how wary you sounded. Outside of your field of vision, the half-foot also winced. You weren’t in great shape, sure, but it really could have been worse…. he thought that maybe telling himself that would make him feel less guilty about the state you were in, but for some strange reason, the feeling just wouldn’t go down. Almost like an especially bitter tasting liquor.
Toshiro — or Shuro, as most of the party tended to call him — was the next in line behind you, and luckily well equipped to carry you the rest of the way. It was a good thing, some might even say a stroke of luck that you’d been positioned in front of him instead of, say, Marcille, but Chilchuck couldn’t help but follow you with his eyes. Seeing you be carried by the man somehow only made him feel more on edge, instead of at ease like he naturally should have. That bitter taste again…
Despite your injury, you felt surprisingly alert, and your eyes continued to dart around, assessing your surroundings now that you didn’t have to focus so intensely on the floor. You saw an arrow lodged into a gap between two of the stones in the wall, probably freshly fired when you triggered that trap. If you hadn’t been pulled away in time, you might have gotten seriously injured or even died.
By the time your gaze landed back on Chilchuck, he was already turning around, but you could’ve sworn that he was looking at you in the split second before he turned his back on you.
The thought that maybe you captivate him even half as much as he captivates you lets you close your eyes with a smile on your face.
three
Ever since that incident in the hallway, you’d started to suspect that Chilchuck was avoiding you.
It wasn’t anything offensive or egregious, but you could sense him becoming even more withdrawn than usual. You two weren’t exactly the chummiest of people with one another in the first place, but lately he’d been acknowledging you less and less, not responding to smart remarks or offers to help him like he usually did.
You knew that he was still noticing you, judging by the slight turn of his head towards the sound of your voice and the occasional clenching of his jaw. Clearly, something was on his mind that he didn’t feel like sharing. Fairly typical, though you couldn’t help but miss that thin sliver of himself he let others see. With you, he was open just enough to at least let you get your foot in the door, and you didn’t want to lose that.
So, determined to get to the bottom of your companion’s heightened defensiveness, you were able to catch him alone when he’d volunteered to be on night watch. With everyone else asleep, you’d finally be able to talk to him without the concern of being overheard.
The half-foot immediately noticed your presence, you’re sure of that. Of course, you were still quiet as to not wake anyone up, it was more so that no matter how quiet you could be, absolutely nothing would slip past his keen senses. Detecting threats and things of note in the dungeon was his job, after all.
No time was wasted in cutting to the chase, certainly.
“Are you avoiding me?”
You couldn’t catch a glimpse of Chilchuck’s face from where you stood, but the way he slowly shifted from one foot to another suggested he was deliberating his response. There was also also a light tapping sound that rang through the space between you, and after a minute of darting your eyes around you realized that he had his arms crossed and was tapping his index finger against his forearm.
The thing you couldn’t notice, of course, was the way his eyes were blown wide with the fear of a man who had absolutely no idea what to say. It’s not like he was ever any good at talking about these things. That’s why he thought it better to just avoid the issue altogether!
Clearly, he should’ve known better. You had other plans for him, just like you always do. Most of those plans usually ended up making him somehow feel like a total fool, even if he was just trying to keep it professional. So why? Why did he respond in earnest instead of shooing you away?
“It’s just sort of a habit, I guess. I try to avoid forming personal biases, especially ones based around personal relationships.” Once those words were finally pushed up and out of his throat, the man at least felt brave enough go turn around and face you, scratching the back of his neck now. “It’s pretty much the most common cause of issues within and between parties, so it’s something I’ve come to be wary of over the years.”
His words caused something to click in your head, and you couldn’t help but grin at him despite the circumstances.
“Are you essentially saying I’m your favorite?”
Perhaps that wasn’t the best thing to say in response, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it, what with how the man’s face scrunched up in both embarrassment and frustration. Maybe it was just an effect of the dim lighting, but he seemed a bit red as well.
“Now’s not the time to act smug, you know that’s not my point.” The hand that was previously behind his neck shifted to point at you accusingly, but it didn’t quite feel sincere. There was something about the way it wavered in midair that made you feel certain that he wasn’t truly angry. “I’m just saying that I prefer to regulate the group environment than just go around making merry without a second thought!”
Dark pupils followed your form, moving up to stand next to him now. “I understand what you mean, but there is a lot of value in making merry, you know? Or even moments like this, for example.”
Chilchuck felt so confused at those words that he dropped his irritated expression entirely. What could possibly be valuable about something so frustrating as his own biases? It’s not like his feelings had any tangible value like a gold coin or a precious jewel. Love was nice, sure, but that alone couldn’t put food on the table.
Sensing his confusion, you could only continue. “Maybe you only view it from a professional lens, but that doesn’t mean it can’t make sense from that standpoint, you know? Your coworkers like to know you. Playing favorites really isn’t an issue when you’re not out boss or anything, I’d think. You’re our equal. And I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but it’s hard to confidently stand on equal ground with somebody who’s so closed off. Makes it hard to trust.”
Trust?
Wasn’t trust in his skills enough? He was already an extremely skilled individual, what reason would most people have…. not to trust him….
Ah.
It felt so shameful to just look at the ground as if he was being scolded. What else could he do, though? It felt like the mechanism of a trap with a tentacle wedged in the crevices, keeping it from moving altogether. Your words were that obstruction, stopping the inner workings of his mind in its tracks.
“Could you look at me, Chilchuck?”
Total bewilderment did nothing to prevent the half-food from turning to meet your face, level with his own. One of your hands hovered over his cheek, never quite touching. In a similar fashion, his fingers ghosted over your wrist.
“Even just taking a moment to look at someone, take in each other’s presence…. it’s a start. Not open, but not closed, either. You can just leave that door open a crack. It shows people that you trust them with not only your time, but yourself.”
His eyes were utterly transfixed on the movements of your lips.
You were right there, you were so close. A perfect chance served on a silver platter. Even so…
“…Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind.” The moment Chilchuck’s hand departed from your wrist, you withdrew your own hand, backing off into the distance the two of you previously had. He turned to stand shoulder to shoulder with you now, not quite facing you, but not quite facing away, either. By no means did the man want to shut you out, but he couldn’t bring himself to open up just yet.
The brief silence was interrupted by a quick remark. “You better mean that, because I’m not opposed to cornering you like this again.”
Chilchuck snorted at your words. “Fine, fine, I heard you. Never let me catch a break, do you?”
No, not just yet.
four
It had hardly been two days since your talk, and the man was already admiring you while you slept like some kind of freak.
Lord, what were you doing to him?
He just couldn’t sleep, that’s what he said to himself as his eyes remained fixed on your face. In hindsight, he almost regrets letting you put your sleeping bag next to his. If you hadn’t, he wouldn’t have such an easy way to stare at you instead of sleeping like he was supposed to.
In the end, though, he supposed it was his fault. He had a harder time saying no to you, and he hated it.
More than that, he hated how vulnerable you were in this moment. So close to him, yet so at ease. Did you really trust him like you talked about? In truth, Chilchuck himself wasn’t sure if you should. Did you really know just how depraved and selfish he actually was?
I mean, if he really wanted to, he could do something horrible and you wouldn’t even know. Take advantage of this state, and do whatever he wanted.
He bet he could even get close enough to…
The half-foot turned over.
Not tonight.
five
Just after the party lost Falin, as well as Toshiro and Namari leaving as a result, Chilchuck asked to talk with you.
“You shouldn’t go looking for her. Especially not with us.”
You weren’t sure whether you were angry or just disappointed. Did he really not understand?
“I’ve already made up my mind, Chilchuck. You already know how I feel.” This response only seemed to further provoke your companion. With nobody else around to hear, he had no problem raising his voice at you.
“Oh, I know perfectly well!” When he pointed at you, his hand didn’t waver, trained perfectly on your form. “I know that you’re absolutely insane if you think this is in any way a good idea.”
Frustration started to overtake your face, and in turn you shouted back, “I don’t know why you always feel like caring about others and being insane is the same thing! It isn’t!”
“Don’t assume how I feel!” As you both shouted back and forth, you both slowly inched closer to one another, until eventually you were standing toe to toe. The pressure eventually got so intense that you could only collapse to your knees and plead,
“Then just tell me. Tell me, please. All I want is to know.”
Well, that was a quick way to make him feel like the biggest asshole on earth. You on your knees, asking him so simply for something that couldn’t be bought or sold. Asking for him.
“I…”
I can’t, he wanted to say. He tried to force out the words, but he nearly choked, as if he was about to cry. Holding back that reaction, he tried his best to do what he knew you needed.
…He leveled with you and put a hand on your shoulder. It really was so hard to say no to you.
“Not yet, okay? I promise I will once this is all over, just… not yet. Wait for me, will you at least do that much?”
After a few moments of catching your own breath, you were able to look at his face again, your own now being blank and receptive. “Outside of the dungeon, you mean?”
He nodded. Your expression shifted to become more unsure, but only slightly.
“And how do I know you’ll come back?”
Perhaps just to give you a taste of your own medicine, Chilchuck grinned softly, deciding to throw your own words back in your face like you’d done to him.
“I thought you knew that you were always my favorite.”
All that and more, really. One day, he’d be able to tell you all about it.
six - after the dungeon
You’d often catch your lover slumped over at the counter of the shop after it closed. One of your favorite things to do was come up behind him and put your hands on his shoulders. Sometimes he’d be too lost in his thoughts to notice you and be startled by your sudden appearance. Tonight, however, he merely sighed and relaxed into your touch.
“Hard day today?” When he groaned in response, you had to suppress a giggle. That man really could be such a drama queen sometimes.
“How could you tell?” His question, unlike yours, was laced with sarcasm. Eventually, he lifted up his head and twisted his torso to look at you. “Had a fair amount of house calls today. Kahka Brud is a nice place to live and all, but I’d rather not be running around it at my age.”
“Yes, yes, you poor thing.”
“Hey!” His exclamation in conjunction with his pout sent you into a fit of hushed laughter.
Wiping a tear from your eye, you continued, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, just teasing. One of these days you really ought to hire someone else to split the workload. When Mei’s in the area, we can certainly ask you about it.”
Chilchuck acknowledged your advice with a hum, but didn’t respond, instead choosing to fully turn around and put his hands on your sides.
“Mhm, I’ll get to that later.” His voice slurred from tiredness. “Right now, I just missed you.”
Your lover’s blunt declarations of missing you never failed to make you feel warm and fuzzy inside. In fact, you were about to return the sentiment in kind, but didn’t get the chance before the half-foot lurched his body forward to close the space between you.
His mouth was lax against yours, and his tongue lazily poked through the gap, not stretching the inside of your mouth, but merely resting as if it belonged there. It was a lazy kiss, but one full of warmth and a true sense of… home, really.
No mind was paid to the string of saliva left by him as you withdrew, all you could say being a quiet “I missed you too.”
After all, your faces didn’t stay apart for too long after that.
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peggyao3 · 4 months ago
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Night Crawler - Pt. 1
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PAIRING: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Reader / can be read as OC
SUMMARY: Feyd-Rautha welcomes a nocturnal visitor in his chambers, who is plagued by the symptoms of her artificially induced condition.
WORD COUNT: 3,558
TAGS: 18+, smut, lactation kink 🍼‼️, pseudo pregnancy, breastfeeding (no baby involved only a big sexy egg man), she/her reader, AFAB reader, ambiguous relationship status, non-consenting drug use, dark undertones, implied violence, stockholm syndrome-ish, dubious consent, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering
Reposted from my Ao3 💕| Masterlist under construction ⚠️
Divider by @saradika-graphics
Part 1 ↓, Part 2, Part 3
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The nights on Giedi Prime are inky black, not midnight blue like on her home world. Inky black are also the sharp-edged pillars that frame the hallway. Jagged polymer giants that intersect the row of windows like alien artifacts. The view outside is not much better. Where one might expect palace gardens are only industrial plants that stretch past the horizon. They are the only source of light.
This corridor is solely occupied by the na-Baron. She has been here many times. But never alone. The corridor where she resides is not far away, yet the path seems to stretch on forever, the Harkonnen palace a hostile monster that pierces her marrow and bone with every barefooted step on cold, black tiles.
She hates this so much. Tonight will be her personal disgrace. That she goes to him willingly, and in the middle of the night no less, is a first.
Though willingly is a farfetched word. No servant has reacted to her request for some pain relief remedy, mumbled then shouted into the transmitter panel in the wall of her chamber. It could be because she had uttered a wrong word in the afternoon or he didn’t like the way she held her fork and knife at dinner. It is hard to tell with Feyd-Rautha.
What is also not under her influence is the chemical cocktail in her veins that tricks her body into believing something has taken root in her womb. The symptoms are manifold, but what torments her most is how her breasts have grown bigger and heavier with milk that no one drinks.
At first glance one might think the fine lines that frame her enlarged breasts are stretch marks, but many of them are scars, placed by an enraptured Feyd-Rautha who loves to lap up the crimson beads, from base to peak. Sometimes his mouth and teeth ghost over her pert nipples.
The na-Baron seems to find sick enjoyment in her condition, fantasizing about the idea without the commitment. It is still better than being forced to carry the his real spawn.
The corridor ends in a dead end and she raises her hand, knocks on the door with cold knuckles. “My Lord?” Her warm breath is a ghost swallowed by the hallway.
There is no sound to be heard, nothing moves aside from the rise and fall of her ribcage. She swallows her pride and knocks again.
A mechanism whirrs and the door slides open. Out comes Feyd with a knife. That much was to be expected, but she still gasps when the icy edge of the blade finds her throat. The na-Baron’s frown dissolves into surprise when he recognizes her. Her throat is one of the few he wouldn’t slit right away for disturbing him.
“Feyd-!” She gasps and flinches away from the blade. Its tip tickles her jaws.
He was asleep, she realizes and is somehow surprised. The slight touch of puffiness around sharp eyes gives him away. She has never seen him sleep and she believes no one has, except for his own mother perhaps, who is now dead by matricide. This pinch of vulnerability on Feyd-Rautha’s face makes her heart stutter, as she hadn’t expected to wrest a triumph from this wretched night.
“What do you want, night crawler?" He sheathes the knife and drags the tip of a finger down her throat instead, to her collarbones, making a shiver roll down her spine. She prefers the knife.
“I am hurting, my Lord.” She stares straight ahead at Feyd's throat while gesturing at her breasts, avoiding his face. Tonight she can't stand to see the sickly joy that lights up his eyes whenever she's in pain. “They are… Too full, or so it feels.” Her bosom sits heavily in the snug night gown, warm and aching.
“Oh. Do they hurt badly?” Feyd wants to hear a yes. Fatigue and ire about being woken are gone now and he stares at her cleavage. The scars he made stare back at him.
“Would I come to you if they weren’t?” She spits. Feyd-Rautha smiles eerily and in the black of the night, his maws look like they possess no teeth.
“Come inside then.” He steps aside, clearing the passage into his chambers. The hairs in the nape of her neck prickle.
“Actually… “ She takes a step back. Even the alien pillars at her back emit more warmth than Feyd's den. “I only need you to call a servant for me. My panel seems to be broken. I’m sorry to have woken you, but I can get no rest like this. And I would…” She cringes. “I would like to be well-rested for whatever my Lord has in store for me tomorrow.” There is always something.
“Is that so?” Something about his voice reminds her of stepping on wet gravel. “You already woke me. No need to wake a servant now.” A hint of a smile creeps over his visage, a threat in one eye, glee in the other as he holds out his hand.
She chooses not to take it, so she can retain some dignity while entering his bed chambers. The door whirrs shut at her back and she knows she won’t be able to exit until he places his hand on a hidden panel. Slowly she walks into the center of the bleak room, walls made of polished stone, steps in the back leading down to a basin that is sunken into the floor. A double bed is at the right hand side and the ruffled sheets are the only sign that something lives in this room.
Feyd-Rautha moves like a beast of the night. She feels his breath on her neck before she hears his footsteps. Wiry arms circle her from behind and pull her against his chest. He is the warmest thing in the room, but as long as she isn’t freezing to death she prefers not to throw herself into an embrace that can warm her one second and scorch her the next. He kisses her neck and softly slides the straps of her nightgown down her shoulders.
Assuming Feyd’s intentions are as they most often are, she shuffles away and pulls the straps back up, trying to sound stern. “F-Feyd-Rautha, I don't know what you think you can do about my predicament, but I-” 
“Sit on the bed with me.” His voice cuts the air like a Fremen crysknife. He is going to cut her breasts open to drain the milk, she thinks when she sits on Feyd's bed. The sheets are still warm.
From the corner of her eye, she sees him approaching and notices the wrinkles in his sleep shirt. Such everyday imperfections look bizarre on a man so atrocious. His bare feet pat on the tiles now and fabric rustles when he climbs on the bed. He sits and leans against the sleek headboard, a single pillow in his back and waits.
“Come.” Reluctantly she turns, gathers her nightgown skirt and scoots closer towards him. Too slow for his liking. His pale fingers brush against her throat. “Why aren’t you wearing your collar?”
“I don’t wear it to sleep!” She spits. “You’d know that if you ever-” Slept with me. Cold sweat breaks out under her armpits.
Feyd’s head tilts to the side, disgusting curiosity in his eyes. He pulls her in his lap, thighs on either side of his hips and then pulls down her night gown with one harsh tug so her right breast pops free. Even the soft scrape of fabric over her nipple makes her whimper and she hisses at him to be gentle.
Seated in his lap, her chest is roughly at Feyd’s face level. At first, she thinks he is only going to ogle the plump shape of her, taking sick pleasure in her visible pain as a reimbursement for disturbing him at night. But then his mouth starts ghosting over her and a trail of nips and feathery kisses leads him to the apex of her breast. One hand curls under the taut flesh and lifts it carefully.
Oh. Now she understands.
How grotesque. How humiliating. She should have expected nothing less.
With horror she watches his plush lips close around the nub. Dark eyes lift to scrutinize her face and when she utters no complaints (although God knows they’re clawing at her throat, they just can’t make it past the lump inside), Feyd closes his eyes.
Her face is scrunched, nails digging into Feyd's shoulders when he creates suction, hesitant at first but greedier as soon as the first drop of white milk decorates his black tongue. She cringes, thighs flexing around his which encourages him to cling to her hip with his free hand.
The sensation repels her at first, alien and encroaching, as if a parasite was latched onto her teat. She has never nursed anyone before. It takes her fear-conditioned mind several moments to realize no harm comes from Feyd’s mouth this time. He only suckles on her breast and his cock twitches against her core, which she ignores. In the chamber’s nocturnal silence, she hears him quietly gulp and with each moment, the torturous pressure in her breast abates. A tear almost slips down her cheek, that’s how thankful she is, even if Feyd-Rautha only helps her for his own pleasure.
Minutes pass and she almost grows used to the sensation, the pressure of his tongue against the underside of her nipple and the occasional scrape of teeth. The tender flesh however is starting to ache, not used to such a long assault of his mouth.
“That's e-enough, it h-hurts now.” 
Feyd growls and his hairless brows twitch over closed eyes. He squeezes her breast, mouth latched over her nipple. Greedily, he suckles, ignoring her wincing. Shivering, she realizes that trying to take away his toy from him will always spark ire, so she gently scrapes her nails over his scalp instead until his ravenous mouth relaxes and strangely, she relaxes too.
“You can have the other one instead, okay?”
That works. His mouth slides over to her left breast, tongue swirling around the nipple before his lips close around it. He suckles more gently now and the relief makes her moan this time, spine arching against his face as milk flows into his mouth.
“Thank you, this is… So good. “
Feyd's hand still cups her right breast, as if scared she or anyone would steal it from him if left unattended. A bead of milk still clings to the nipple. With a spark of hope she wonders if Feyd-Rautha would ever be willing to share her breasts with an heir. 
No, she sees him throttling his own spawn, just so he can have everything for himself.
In the dead of night, a sly little smile tugs on her mouth and she encouragingly wraps her arms around Feyd's neck, hugging him close. Willingly, he sinks into her chest, drinking with abandon. “Keep drinking,” she hums.
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the na-Baron, the gladiator, is temporarily docile at her bosom.
The silent victory makes heat grow in her belly as pressure is released from her breasts. She shuffles against his lap and the hardness that rests against his belly. Feyd's hand squeezes her hip, nudging her closer. While he drinks, the other pale hand lightly fondles her right breast, catching the drop of milk with an unusually gentle index finger.
Her spine arches and her hips curl against his pelvis, head and hair falling backwards. The cool of the chamber is now pleasant on her heated skin.
“Feyd, please…” A quiet sigh, nearly swallowed by the midnight hour. Her core curiously grinds against his length.
He seems to know better what she pleads for than she does. The hand on her hip sifts through the layers of silky gown to get to where he needs, finding her flesh unobscured by undergarments. Slick essence coats her gown where she had sat and Feyd’s hand stutters when his knuckles brush through the wetness on the silk.
Instantly, her cunt bucks against his fingers and Feyd's eyes snap wide open. His digits glide through her folds, stunned to find them so wet and hot. Her entrance weeps and yields so easily when he prods lightly with two fingers. 
“Don't say anything, just-” She shakes her head, realizing Feyd hasn’t said anything at all since he discovered the milk from her breasts for himself. Fascinated, he gazes up at her from coal-black eyes, pouty lips puckered around her nipple still when two calloused fingers sink into her cunt. Languidly, he thrusts, finding her walls willing and soft to the touch. She meets each thrust, sighing as she brings her hips up and down.
Looking down at Feyd’s pale skull latched to her breast, she also looks at the scars that paint them. They taunt her now.
‘Does he make you wet now?’ They seem to ask. ‘Has he finally cut you into submission, into the shape he wants?’ 
She doesn't feel overly submissive right now, however. The pace of her hips quickens, as does that of his fingers. Her nails dig into his scalp when a third finger eases into her cunt without her request. The stretch makes her moan and her hips needily rut against Feyd’s hand.
Even if she is not truly in power, she can at least pretend she is.
“Take yourself out of your pants!” 
Determinedly, she sits up straight and leans back, breasts feeling almost light now, compared to before. Her nipple slips out of Feyd’s mouth and he gives it a parting gift, sharp teeth nipping at the tender bud. Probably the punishment for her bold tone. Still, she grows nearly euphoric when he does as she says, sliding his trousers down to his mid thighs, so his daunting cock comes to rest against his navel. It doesn’t daunt her today.
She shuffles and pulls the silky layers of her nightgown away, so her pelvis can rest on the smooth, milky expanse of Feyd’s hairless thighs. His balls rest hotly against her weeping cunt until she raises her hips and kneels, grabbing Feyd’s cock to line him up with her entrance. The size of him makes the angle awkward and she has to lean forward to try and shuffle the thick head between her folds, one hand wrapped around the shaft.
“You can ask for help, you know.” Feyd chuckles, fingers gliding over her thighs under the gown. She hisses and resists the urge to tell him to shut his mouth, lest he ruins the night. It had been so nice without the talk of his foul tongue. Finally, she has him angled like she needs him and her entrance yields for his head.
Feyd knows she struggles to take him, despite the preparation. Her soft cunt stretches around his obscene length and she tries to be strong, play it tough, so her whines can’t give away the challenge it still is for her to be a fitting sheathe for his cock. Amused, he watches her toil away in his lap, slowly sinking down, then hissing and jerking back up. He gives her the time she needs, curiously watching her face shift into triumph when their pelvises come flush.
Up and down she goes, sighing and moaning and her grimace slowly relaxes as she grows accustomed to his cock. Feyd-Rautha sinks into his pillow, sliding down the headboard as his figure becomes more and more horizontal. Her breasts are out of reach now, but he still marvels at the marks and puffiness left by his mouth. His jaws flex. He already misses the taste of her milk. Tomorrow he will instruct the authorized doctors to tweak the formula of her injections, so she will produce more.
Unbeknownst of his thoughts but well aware of his wolfish gaze on her tits, she rides him as she pleases, hands pushing up his sleepshirt so she can grope his pale torso, leaving angry red marks on his belly and on the small dent between his pectorals.
Her shoulders roll forward and her thighs hurt a little from lifting herself so repeatedly, but she tirelessly grinds against his pelvis, chasing the pleasure sparked by power that kindles in her belly before it’ll inevitably go out by something he says or does. If he had pubic hair, perhaps it would be easier to get some friction against her clit. She is missing that extra stimulation to quite push herself over the edge.
Feyd’s hands on her hips have been docile, but the moment she falters, he strikes. Her weak knees buckle when his thumb finds her clit and her wrists are gathered in his other hand.
“I… No!” She stubbornly pleads, the figment of control wrenched out of her grasp. Not even by his hands that overtake her body, but by the mean midnight-smile that decorates his face.
“That’s alright,” he coos sweetly. No one likes gravel mixed with honey.
Hot tears gather in her eyes when she fights weakly against his grasp but still moans from the pressure of his cock. She wants to tell him that nothing is alright. It’s not alright that she can’t even fuck herself to completion without his help. It’s not alright that her legs give out because of the medication he’s put her on to induce false pregnancy. It’s not alright that her tits hurt and she gets sick in the mornings and It’s definitely not alright that he’s taking her little victory away from her.
She is close to tears but doesn’t start crying. Feyd’s hips dictate the rhythm, driving up into her cunt so she no longer rides him, she only helplessly sits as he fucks her. And to her dismay, it feels better. He just does it better.
The pressure of his thumb on her clit is just right, as are the short, hard thrusts against her cervix.
This whole night still counts as a victory, she reminds herself as her head falls back and a climax rolls through her body, walls fluttering around her tormentor’s cock while he pours sweet, gravelly honey in her ears. It’s the softest he’s ever been with her. 
Feyd prolongs her climax, drawing tight little circles on her clit so her walls keep milking him until he has spilled his seed harmlessly against the entrance to her womb. A throaty groan rumbles in his chest and then the chamber falls silent. 
His cock twitches and relaxes against her walls while his thumb still lazily plays with her clit. Uneasily, she shifts in his lap and her squirming draws wet noises from their conjoined pelvises.
“Stop smiling,” she demands.
“I can't.” If only his smile was prettier. Feyd releases her wrists and his thumb abandons her overstimulated clit and ghosts over her abdomen, the bunched gown, her plump breasts. A flutter of warmth follows his trace as he presses into the dip between her clavicles and then brushes over her throat, perhaps still mourning the absence of her collar. 
“I… I need to go to the bathroom.”
Abruptly, Feyd sits up and swings his legs over the edge, catching her before she can fall backwards off his lap. He turns his head and nips at the hand that had instinctively latched onto his shoulder. “Don't be long.”
She denies him the satisfaction of seeing her sway and buckle when she slips off his cock. It smacks against his abdomen and black seed sullies his pale stomach and shirt. Feyd doesn't mind, but if she insists on getting cleaned up, she shall.
For a moment she fears he will follow her, just to make sure she doesn't flush herself down the drain to escape him, but he remains docilely on the bed. 
She just barely makes it to the bathroom before the thick rivulet of cum that rolls down her leg reaches the ankle and stains the floor. Awkwardly, she cleans herself with cold water from the sink and paper towels, then hovers over the toilet and waits until most of Feyd's release has exited her body. Some of it still stubbornly clings to her womb, she's certain. 
For a moment, she regards her reflection in the mirror, little more than a shadow in the dark of night, but even now she sees the shape of her hard nipples under the silk. She feels obliged to clean the cum stain on the floor, even though that's a task for the maids.
Once she comes back out, she almost expects a knife against her throat - foreplay for what Feyd-Rautha might consider the real fun, but the na-Baron's breath chimes calmly and steadily  from the  bed. Could it be? 
Almost as silent as a beast of the night, she slinks to the door, knowing it probably won't budge for her but it's worth a try.
“Where are you going, night crawler? Come here.” 
He lifts the covers and wordlessly she resigns and climbs underneath, like a bird into an alligator’s open maws, hoping she will be useful long enough and her wings not broken when the maws snap shut.
Feyd-Rautha sleeps on her bosom that night and she cries for a good minute while caressing his scalp. Why does every triumph, no matter if big or small, always come at the cost of feeling dirty?
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[If you enjoyed this fanfiction, a comment would mean the world to me! <33]
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kolyubov · 7 months ago
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Rises the moon.
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✧ pairing. Doa3 x gn!reader
✧ word count. 2k.
✧ contents. fluff, ooc doa3, relationships are not specified (this is not necessarily romantic, take it as you please <3), mostly self-indulgent. if I missed anything, please tell me.
✧ author's note. it's been so long since i posted anything,,, i hope this is good enoughwaaaaeuxjwunxsk
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It was past midnight and the apartment was enveloped in silence. You couldn't hear anyone talking in the living room, meaning everyone was asleep.
To be able to enjoy a quiet rest in this place was rare. Midnights are the most bustling hours, when everyone gathers to discuss “important” business until early in the morning, before leaving for whatever they have to do.
Considering this, you could have had a nice sleep for once… if it wasn’t for the rain storming outside.
A sudden thunder crash caused you to abruptly wake up in the middle of your dream— Your heart thumping quickly against your chest and your breath coming out in heavy gasps. You felt disoriented for a few seconds until you eventually calmed down.
Usually, storms don’t scare you, in fact, they’re quite enjoyable along with a lecture or a movie, but not now when you're alone in your room and in the middle of the night, surrounded by the darkness and with your vision barely helping you to perceive your surroundings.
Among the dark, shadows shape into tall monsters lurking from the corner of your room, seemingly waiting for the right moment to lay their ghostly hands on you before disappearing after each lightning. The brief second of luminance makes you realize that those shadows are just that, no one was going to actually hurt you.
Yet, going back into the land of dreams was difficult under these circumstances.
You tried by closing your eyes, ignoring the “monsters” and the loud rumbling of the thunderstorm, and taking deep breaths to calm your unsteady heart but you just couldn't fall asleep. The unsafe sensation wouldn't go away, perhaps until the sun rises again.
However, you had some kind of idea that could help you sleep.
You sat on your bed for a while, contemplating the storm through the window that doesn't seem to end anytime soon and trying to gain the courage to leave your room.
Maybe this idea wasn't the best one you could have, but it was the first thing that came to your sleepy brain, and it's not like you were in the mood to think of any consequences due to what you were going to do.
With a light groan, you leave the comfort of your bed and grab your fluffy pillow in between your arms. The wooden floor cracks under your feet as you make your way to the door of your room then carefully opening it, peeking through the small gap, making sure no dangers are around before stepping outside.
Luckily, the hallway was slightly illuminated with one lamp that hung from the ceiling— The old wooden floor cracks under your deliberated steps as you make your way to his room. Once you stand in front of it, and just as you place a hand on the knob, another sudden thunder makes you jerk in surprise.
Was that a sign from God to not do this?
Without properly rethinking —also too tired to think of any potential risks— you twist the knob, and immediately your eyes land on his sleeping peaceful form; almost completely wrapped with a blanket but letting you see his face. His lips barely parted and his eyelashes rested over his cheeks.
It's not every day when you see Fyodor sleeping on a comfy mattress…
Until now, you had always seen him working day and night underground, sitting in front of his bright purple monitor screen and typing away weird codes or messages that seemed impossible for you to deceive. And if he was not working underground, instead, he was taking a stroll through the city or drinking tea in some restaurant that picked his curiosity.
But sleeping didn't seem to be like a normal activity for him to do.
“To what do I owe this pleasure, hm?”
Fyodor's groggy voice makes you snap out of your thoughts. Now he’s looking at you with a gentle smile as you stand on his doorframe, gripping your pillow awkwardly as you wait for some type of permission— And almost as if he’s reading your mind, he motions for you to come closer with his hand.
The mattress sinks under your weight as you get into the bed and place your pillow just beside his. Wasting no time, Fyodor wraps his blanket around your frame. And it takes some time for you to realize that he's gladly sharing his personal space, which adds to another unusual thing he's doing tonight.
“I couldn't sleep.” You mutter, as he pulls you closer.
“Why's that, dearest?”
“The storm…”
A small chuckle escaped his lips, finding adorable the fact that you needed company just because of a mere storm. Though, he knew the answer even before you said it.
One of his hands —usually cold— is now warming up your cheek, cupping it and rubbing small circles with his thumb as if to soothe you, to tell that he’s there for you without any words needed, simply light touches and whispers shared in between the two.
And for a small second you return the gesture, gently tracing the dark circles underneath his eyes as you scan his features; his thin eyebrows, his purple eyes, and his nose before finally stopping at his lips— His lower lip a little bitten and red.
Unconsciously, your own lips twitch upwards as your mind clouds with the idea of kissing every inch of his pale skin, having him softly laughing underneath you.
To hide your smile, you rest your head against his chest, pressing your ear to where his heart is. The soft thud makes a gentle symphony, a calming sound, that allows any tension left in your body to slip away. Fyodor’s presence fills your senses, making you forget about the rain violently storming outside. Something pulls you closer as your arms wrap around him.
Fyodor doesn’t complain of the proximity, instead, his slender fingers play with your hair, twirling it around his digits or untying knots that were made while you were sleeping before the thunder strike woke you up.
It’s not a surprise that your eyelids eventually start feeling heavy, with all the sweet caresses and the warmth provided, your body is ready to resume your sleep, enveloped in the most comfortable shelter you could ever ask for—
“Oh…”
One of Fyodor's hands cups the back of your head tenderly, pulling you flush against him as if to avoid someone from snatching his most precious thing.
“…What’s wrong, Fedya?” You want to pull away, but a high-pitched giggle comes from behind you, accompanied by the sound of rustling the sheets.
Seems like we have company.
“What are you two doing sleeping without me? That's mean… Leaving a friend out is not nice, dovey.” Nikolai grumbles as he climbs to the bed, lying on his side and hugging you from behind, “Why not come to me when the storm startles your peaceful sleep, hm?
The jester seems not afraid in the slightest to have physical contact with Fyodor, or anyone really…
You can feel his hand removing Fyodor's from your head before he nuzzles against the crook of your neck; the tip of his nose brushes up and down your skin purposely to tickle you. Oh, how much Nikolai loved hearing your giggles as you squirmed around his bear hug, it made his heart almost beat out of his chest.
“I do not recall asking you to show up in my room, Nikolai.” By the tone of his voice, Fyodor doesn't seem pleased with the additional company taking space on his bed and ruining your peaceful encounter.
Nikolai’s hands trail up your ribs, and without any warning, he begins tickling you— not stopping even as you try to pry them away among laughs.
“Dove, you’re not gonna make me leave, are you?” He whispers against your ear, voice whiny and you are almost completely sure that he's pouting right now, hoping you at least feel pity for leaving him out, “Tell Dos that you want me to stay…”
But just by eyeing Fyodor, the answer is more than clear on his face. Refuting his words to let Nikolai sleep with the two of you is most likely ending with you and the jester being kicked out.
“C'mon, C'mon! You're scared of the storm, aren't you, birdie?” Nikolai pecks your cheek and pets your hair dramatically. “Poor baby! Shouldn't we help this frail dove together, Dos?”
“There's no need for that.” Fyodor's patience is going thin.
Nikolai clicks his tongue in annoyance, sitting up on the bed with his arms crossed like a child and glaring at Fyodor for a while, trying to convince him just by holding eye contact until he gives up, knowing there’s no room for negotiating.
“Fine, I'll leave… Gosh, you're such a killjoy.”
As he slips out the bed, muttering curses under his breath, Fyodor sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. It's not the first —and definitely not the last— time he has to put up with Nikolai’s behavior.
God blessed him this time, it seems. He didn't need to make too much of a fuss to make Nikolai leave.
When the door opens and the jester intruder is ready to leave in order to resume the calming moment that Fyodor was truly appreciating, instead of leaving, Nikolai throws his arms up in the air excitedly.
“Dear Sigma! What a great surprise!”
The casino manager stands in the doorframe, rubbing one of his eyes. It appears like his sleep was interrupted as well.
“Uhm… Could you guys keep it down, please? I woke up because you're so noisy and I'm trying to—”
Sigma didn't have time to finish speaking before he was dragged by Nikolai, tugging on his sleeve and pulling him to the bed. Fyodor’s bed. Then pushing him down to the mattress as if he was nothing but another plushie added to the collection.
“Gogol! I didn’t come here to have a sleepover!” Sigma complains, rolling his eyes before meeting your gaze, and giving you an awkward smile.
Then meeting Fyodor's.
Something didn’t seem to add up.
“Am I… missing something?”
“This little dove needs our help, my dear friend! You see, the storm ruffled their lovely feathers so they needed to shelter in our embrace.”
Sigma raises an eyebrow at the jester’s words, and even if he's stuck in this —unwanted— situation it's not difficult to understand the message. He sighs, lying back on the bed and holding your hand, “It’s going to be okay, angel.”
He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze before bringing it to his lips and placing a soft peck on the back of it. He cares about you more than he hates having to deal with Nikolai.
The four of you managed to fit in Fyodor's bed with little space in between. Nikolai's head is now resting on your chest, him in between your legs, his arms around your waist. On the other hand, Fyodor and Sigma were lying on each side of you, either playing with your hair or stroking your hand. Any soft touch brings you closer to dozing off.
Fyodor mutters a small apology because of his "friends" behavior. His fingers graze your palm before he locks his fingers with yours as well. Silence slowly begins flooding the room; you feel perfectly safe with them around, so you close your eyes, letting your body relax.
“Oh! I have the greatest idea, how about we have a sleepover and do our nails and—”
“Nikolai.” The three of you called his name almost as if grounding a child; making the jester frown and pout.
You couldn't suppress your giggles, thinking that this might be the first —and the last— time you'll have the three men from the same dangerous organization sleeping together in the same bed only because they care about you, in their own way.
The storm slowly fades away, forgotten in the warmth of their embrace.
When waking up the next morning, you'll have to face the pain in your limbs from being entangled around them… And wondering how you and Fyodor ended up in between Sigma and Nikolai's hug.
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© 2024 pinklacydovey — Do not copy, repost, or recommend my works on other platforms. reblogs are welcomed and appreciated!
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tragedybunny · 1 year ago
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Sunlight and Stars in the Sky part 2 - Astarion x F!Reader
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First part - here
Weary and embarrassed you try to put distance between yourself and Astarion. But you slowly come to realize things are changing between the two of you.
Astarion is gone when you wake up, probably out hunting, and you breathe a sigh of relief. At least you won't be able to embarrass yourself further. Throwing yourself at him, being refused by him of all people, forcing him to let you into his tent to calm down, and that nonsense you'd spouted, gods he must've been so annoyed with you. 
All he wanted from you was a bit of fun, some enjoyable interludes during this journey you'd found yourselves on. You weren't so naive that you thought there was more to it. Yet he'd somehow found a little place in your heart. Which you had stupidly exposed to him last night with that stars in the sky drivel. If he kept his distance from now on, you'd know why. 
Head pounding from the wine, you fumble around for your boots. Slipping them on, you hurry back to your tent, and throw yourself under the covers, glad you didn't run into Astarion. The rest of the night is filled with fitful sleep, the drink making you nauseous and your memories driving you almost to tears. When the sun at last rises, the camp awakens muted and somber. Unable to face him, you wait until the scent of breakfast fills the air to finally leave your tent. 
Naturally he's somehow right there. "Good morning Darling," even he seems muted after everything, probably worried you'll be all over him again, "feeling better?"
"A little, sorry for the trouble last night," you murmur hastily, trying not to look at him before rushing off, unable to make yourself listen to his conciliatory response. 
Breakfast and breaking camp take far longer than they should and your solemn crew takes to the road that leads beyond the monastery to the shadow cursed lands much later than they should. As seems to be your fate though, not even a simple road is easy, and a group of undead bar the way. Body and mind aching, you fumble through the fight, spells missing their target, and reactions slowed. You don’t see the monster that’s crept up on you until it’s nearly too late to dodge its flailing attack. Suddenly the earth lurches and you’re facing the dirt. Panic constricts your chest, death is so close, even all you managed to overcome wasn't enough. Rolling, you try to get your feet under you, and find your assailant hovering over you. Your lungs inhale what is likely your final breath and you tense just a crossbow bolt sprouts from its forehead. It stumbles back and Karlach’s axe removes its head from its body. 
Most of the gory sight is blocked from your view as Astarion appears over you, crossbow back over his shoulder, pale hand outstretched and brow furrowed. “Are you alright my Dear?”
You wince and take his hand, twice as humiliated as before. Reaching a sitting position, you stop, your body unwilling to go further. Everything from the Nautiloid, to the Creche, to making a fool of yourself, bears down on you, and it’s all too much. One win at the Grove amongst a tide of wounding losses. Hands rub at your eyes to push away the tears. “Sweetheart,” Astarion is suddenly crouching next to you, brushing your hair out of your face. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head, pulling away from that touch that you want to be real affection so badly. 
“You look exhausted.” Before you can protest, he’s turning to the rest of the group. “We should stop for the night.”
“Tsk'va, we’ve barely made progress,” Lae’zel snaps, any good humor she's developed gone for the moment, “we still have worms in our head, did you forget that whilst basking in the sun.” 
His eyes narrow for a moment, and he looks like he’ll shout back, but he contains it. “We’ve all had a hard time, and we’re in rough shape. Let’s get some rest and start fresh in the morning.” 
They don’t need to be told he’s talking about you, collapsed in the dirt, and you can feel their eyes turn on you. “That sounds eminently reasonable," Gale chimes in and the rest assent.
"Let's go find a nice spot," Karlach says brightly, taking Wyll by the hand and leaving the main road. 
The others follow in their wake until just the two of you are left. Reluctantly, you start to get your feet under you, feeling as weary as he says you were, and silently start off towards them. The crunch of his boots tell you Astarion is just behind you, a small mercy as he can't see the state you're in. Your chest aches, you can't seem to banish the tears that keep threatening, and nothing feels like it has a point anymore. When you catch up with the others, they're already setting camp for the night, with Gale prepping dinner with as much cheer as he can muster and the others barely speaking at all. The whole of it seems like too much and you collapse on a log near the fire, Astarion joining you seconds later. 
Shifting closer, he looks like he's about to speak when the sounds of an argument draws your attention and he just sighs instead. "The Underdark is backtracking, a waste of time and dangerous." Lae’zel is shouting at Shadowheart. 
"Well it might deter the interference of your people," she returns.
"That is a point, this road is already dangerous," Halsin chimes in. 
"What do you think," Wyll has wandered over from setting up his tent and turned to you. For the second time today, your whole group is looking to you, only this time they're expecting that leadership you've shown them this whole journey. 
"I…" you just can't find it in you.
"Gods," Astarion growls, "can you all not make one simple decision without her? She's tired and you're putting this on her. It's bad enough you expect her help solving all your petty problems."
"But it's fine if it's your petty problems, right Astarion," Gale accuses, his face dark. You know his problem is far from petty. 
"Say that again," Astarion hisses and does something you've never seen him do to one of your companions, he snarls and bares his fangs. 
"Astarion," you scold, stirred from your stupor finally and he gives you a wounded look. "Let's just get some dinner in everyone. Then we can discuss the Underdark." They need you, it would hardly do to give up now. 
"Right, you heard the lady, give her some space until dinner is done," Karlach waves them off and gives you a wink. 
Part of you expects Astarion to be angry with you for the reproach but instead he gently takes your hands in his. "How about I get the tent set up, you can rest before dinner. Or you could stay there the whole night, you don't owe them an answer." 
The tent, your mind reels. It's his tent and he's never been fond of anyone infringing on his space. Is he still feeling sorry for you? You cringe, and pull your hands from his. "I can stay in my own tent."
"Oh," he seems to shrink in on himself. "I had been wondering since you were gone when I got back last night. Did I do something wrong? I admit I'm new to having someone close like that.” His voice is quiet and unsure, and nothing like what you’re used to. “Or maybe it's my temperature, I know I'm not exactly very warm," he offers and laughs somewhat awkwardly.
"I just don't want to…" For the first time today, you really look at him, and you don't see the same Astarion you've been traveling with. His eyes are wide and soft, his expression full of hope and longing and not scorn for the world around him. You find his hands where you left them, as though waiting for yours. Something has changed, something that makes your heart flutter and chases away the darkness of your thoughts. You were going to say pretend; pretend he wanted you there, pretend you didn't make an idiot out of yourself; but that doesn't feel right anymore. "Impose," you slide your hands back into his and small smile ghosts over his features. 
"Love, I told you last night, you're not imposing. Well you were very drunk," a small kiss on your cheek makes you flush, “perhaps you don’t remember.” 
“Some rest is probably a good idea,” you admit, giving in to the ethereal moment that seems to be burgeoning between the two of you. 
He squeezes your hands before letting them go. “I told you so,” his usual smirk is back in place but it’s softer than before. 
While he’s gone you try to temper yourself, this could be temporary, and you should focus on your very grim situation, your losses and setbacks are still real. But it all vanishes the moment he’s leading you back to the tent and settling you into a pile of pillows and blankets, some of them from your own supplies. Your things, mingled with his, the two of you, joined together. With your approval very visible from the smile you can't hide, he joins you, pulling you into his arms so your head rests against his chest. From around the fire you hear voices, friendly banter, spirits are lifting, hope is prevailing. You’re glad but still so tired, and it’s so nice here with Astarion, a little peace for just the two of you. “Thank you, I really needed this,” you murmur sleepily. 
“Think nothing of it, my Sunlight,” he kisses the top of your head. 
It brings back the other night, but there’s no awkwardness for you now, you spoke true, no matter what happens from now on, he’ll always be the light of all your nights, the beauty out of darkness. “My Starry Sky.” 
He gives a small hum of approval, “I am growing fond of that nickname,” and he holds you tighter. There’s a note of sadness you think in his voice, but you’re almost asleep, maybe you imagined it. 
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shira-cosmic-star · 4 months ago
Note
Are you still taking requests? If yes, Hi, mind if I send one in? How about some headcanons for how Jin, Luca, Alan, Haru, and Rui would react when the MC flinches when they raise their hand to bring up a point in a conversation? Feel free to discard if this makes you uncomfortable.
(Hi! Yes I’m still taking requests. Sorry it has taken me this long to get to it!)
WARNING: SUPER LONG, Mention of abuse, toxic relationships (family and romantic), panic attacks, angst, comfort, manipulation, verbal abuse, and one cuss word
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Jin:
You and Jin have been dating for a few months now. You know that Jin is easy to anger, but he tries his absolute best to not take it out on you. You both have had your fair share of petty fights and misunderstandings. Yet you both would make it up to one another. On this particular day. You both had a bad day. Jin had to handle a bunch of meetings and his own father. You were busy running around aiding all of the Ghouls that requested you. Delivering paperworks for them, cleaning for Romeo, Leo needing to use your ability, helping out with the animals, and so on and so on. Both of you didn’t get a break. We leads to both of you now arguing. What for? Both of you don’t know why. Jin grew more and more frustrated and annoyed and wanted the argument to stop. He raised his hand to pause you for talking. When you saw his hand quickly rising up. You flinched and shut your eyes tightly as you braced yourself for an impact with pain…
But it never came, the room was now silent. The air was heavy and thick. Jin froze, his eyes wide with shock. “Why did they flinch? Are they scared of me?” He thought to himself, he put his hand down and turned around. His back now faced you. “Just leave..” He needed a moment to think. You quickly left his room in tears. Jin sat down on the couch. Recalling what happened, he was now in his room with a huge weight in his chest. His heart felt heavy. He felt angry too, not in the way you think he’s is. But more in a way that it’s to do with him. He caused you to flinch. He never wanted to make you feel unsafe with him. That reaction made him feel more like a monster than ever before. You’re his lover, his partner, his future, literally the only reason he feels alive. He scared you.. or so he thinks he scared you.
You on the other hand, thought that you have pushed him too far. So far that you thought he was angry at you. Which isn’t true, all he wanted was the arguing to stop. But when he picked up his hand. You couldn’t help but reacted that way. It was how your ex has treated you. When you dated your ex, the ex was mean, manipulative, selfish, a liar and a narcissist overall. The ex would lay their hands on you, scream at you, and purposely make you cry out of enjoyment. Your ex has broken your confidence, tore down your self esteem, and made you feel unworthy of love. When you came to Darkwick and met Jin. All of that changed, Jin was rough at the start. Thought the more you spent time with him. You saw more that met the eyes. He was kind, loyal, playful, honest, and brave. He actually helped you built up yourself up little by little. How? By getting you things you need. You need more clothes? Done, need money to buy personal items, done. Need a boat to help you with the other dorm on their mission? Also done. Need a break from all of the stress and missions? Let’s go to the beach.
You were hesitant about asking for things but he never cared. He would tell you if need something. Just say so. After the argument took place, both of you stayed to yourself for a bit. Tohma actually encouraged both of you to talk. So you walked over to his room. Nervous about everything, Jin waited in his room for you. Once you entered, you both had a heart to heart conversation. Jin now fully understands why you reacted that way and you now understand that he wasn’t mad at you. It was more towards himself for scaring you. He’s now more mindful of your triggers and you are more mindful about him never hurting your the way your ex did.
———————————————————
Luca:
Both you and Luca were working out and training together. You were determined to get stronger and not hold anyone back. So as both of you were training. He was coaching you on how to do a few exercises. He started out easy on you since you were used to working out to an extreme level. As time went on and on. You slowly began to built your body. Now he was teaching you hand to hand combat. You started out with the punching bag and now you are facing him. He still planned on going easy on you. When he starts giving you pointers and tells you to hit his hands with the punching mitts. He would often throw in little advice down the line too. “Make sure to never take your eyes off of them.””When they are open, strike hard as you can.” “Best thing is the elements of surprise.” He would even tell you that your opponent would also use elements of surprise. “Don’t let your guard down for a sec.” Now training was over, and both of you are worn out. He stood next to you for a few moments to catch his breathe. What he said had stuck to you pretty hard. Luca decided to stretch his body. His arms up in the air. When you have caught a glimpse of his movement. You thought he was going to strike you unexpectedly, to catch you off guard. But instead of defending yourself like he taught you. You flinched and scrunched down with your hands over your head. He stunned by what just had happened.
“MC?…why did you flinch? What’s wrong?” His voice was full with worry and confusion. Your hands trembled has the flashbacks fills your mind. The blood pounded in your ears, Your heart thudded in your chest, feet tingled, and vision disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. Luca realized that you were having a panic attack. So he bent down in front of you. Calmly he continued to call your name. Never did he raise his voice to catch your attention. He simply remained patience. He didn’t touch you, not until you gave him consent. He doesn’t know what was going through your mind. But once you pulled out of it. You began to cry as you reached out to him.
He’s holding you in his arms as you cry. You have told him about your family and how they would lay their hands on you. Physical hurting you as “punishment.” They would often berate you, telling you. That you weren’t good enough and nothing but a disappointment. Luca was angry about it. He swore to you, that he will always protect you. After having the long talk. Both of you decided to head to the store to buy a few snacks and head off to watch a movie in his dorm. From that ever day. He made sure to pay close attention to your wellbeing. Often telling how much he loves and adores you.
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Alan:
You both head off to do a case that was assigned. It was just you and him. As you were investigating the scene. It got pretty dark out. As both of you finished. You hear a strange noise. You turned around to face where the noises were coming from. A strange shadow like figured with red eyes. Stares back at you, then it transforms to your worse nightmare. The anomaly had transform itself into your abusive ex. The illusion becomes too realistic for you. Your ex smirks at you as they walked closer and closer to you. You began to cry and beg them to leave you alone. Each inches they took towards you, you would back up. Now you were backed up against the wall. You screamed, all of the sudden a loud sound ripped through the room. It was Alan, he had punched the anomaly through it’s mask. The mask shattered, the red eyes you saw earlier revealed once more. The illusion of your ex was gone.
Alan completed stood between you and the creature. His back faced towards you. “You will not touch them.” Alan tells the anomaly, his voice held deep anger. It was rough and aggressive sounding. Usually that would scary you, but with Alan. It was different, for the first time. You felt, Safe.
Shortly after he dealt with the creature. He slowly walked over to you and bend down to your level. You were still in shock. He held a hand out to you. “Are you okay?” You started at him, he was covered in blood. Luckily, it wasn’t his blood. You looked at his hand and then back at his face. He waited for you to accept his hand. Alan knew how terrified you were, so he waited on you. You took his hand and hugged him when he pulled you off the ground. He was stiff as a board because he wasn’t used to physical contact. Yet, he knew you needed this. So he placed a hand on your head as you cried. When you are ready, he knows that you know. He’s here for you no matter what. ———————————————————
Haru:
You volunteered to help out Haru with the animals. It was a nice sunny hot day. Haru wanted to make it a water theme tour for visitors. You can stay cool and have fun with the animals. Your job was to attend the small easy animals. “Hey MC, mind helping me grab a few things from the kitchen and the shack?” You agreed and followed him to the kitchen. Both of you were preparing the meals for the animals. Since it was their lunch time. Later you head over to the shack and he had told you to grab the hose. He connect the water hose to the pump. “Once I have it all untangled and stretched out to the pool. I’ll yell for you to turn it on!”
“Gotcha! Just say ‘okay,’ soon as you want me to turn it on.” You told him. He gave you a thumbs up and untangled the hose. You waited for him to give you the okay. A few moments has passed and you hear the word. You turned it on but didn’t know if it was working or not. After turning and turning, you hear. “GAWK TOO MUCH, TOO MUCH WATER!”
As you panicked to turn it off. The knob broke off, causing you to panic more. He walked over to you drenched in water. Placed the knob back on like it was nothing and sighed in exhaustion. As he turns to face you now. You were on the verge of tears. Trembling over the fact that he could be angry at you. Haru reacted his left hand to pat your head. He saw that you flinched. It hurts him to see you all shaken up over a smile common mistake.
“Hey, it’s okay. It happens a lot actually.” He comforts you.
“I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make a mess and I-I broke the knob off.. *sniffs*” you had apologized to him for your clumsy mistake.
“Aw it fine! I’m all cooled off and ready for the water park! Besides the knob is back on. Like I said, it happened before. Why are you apologizing?”
“….Becomes I’m nothing but a klutz..I’m not good at anything. Always a screw up..” Tears streams down your face as you tried to wipe them off. He pats your head again and starts to compliment you.
“You’re not a klutz or a screw up. In fact, I’ve made tons of silly and funny mistakes! So bad that even Ren laughed at me!” This got you to laugh and smiled. Haru may not fully understand what you have went through, but he lets you know. That if you ever need someone to talk too. He will always be there for you.
———————————————————
Rui:
Rui offered you a part time job at his bar. You took that offer so you can save up to buy the things you have been waiting for. Rather that’s movies, video games, clothings, a new phone case and etc. You are in desperate need to spoil yourself for your hard work. So for the time being. You were at his bar, helping him clean before he opens. He had you to wipe down the tables as he cleans the cups. Once he opens the guests starts packing in. When he was busy with one customer he had asked you to grab a cup for him. When you walked over to the glass stand. You have accidentally knocked over one with your elbow . When you moved to pick it up. You knocked over another one. It fell completely off the stand and onto the floor. The glass cup, shattered all over the floor.
“I’m so sorry! I’ll clean that up!” You told him as you bent down to pick up the broken piece. Unlucky for you, Romeo saw what had happened. He criticized you for being clumsy and called you a CBB. Which you guessed it stand for “Clumsy basic bitch.”
This struck an unpleasantly nerve. “Ouch..” looking at your hand, there was a small glass that prickled your finger. Rui saw the blood and rushed over to you. He had ask Lyca to take you to the infirmary to patched you up.
After you were all patched Rui text you to take the night off. You figured he was mad about the messes you made. That night, you cried yourself to sleep. Ashamed of what you have done and the embarrassment you’ve caused.
In the morning, Rui came over to check up on you. You were about to head out to class. When you opened the door, there he was. You were going to apologize to him later. But since he was here, might as well say sorry.
You had opened your mouth a a bunch of apologies were heard. This caught Rui off guard. “Woah woah, slow down.” He nervously said. “Why are you apologizing? I’m not mad.”
“But you should be! I embarrassed you and broke your glass cup. Romeo was right..I’m nothing back a “Clumsy basic bitch!” You beat yourself up for your mistakes. Rui puts both hands in the air as surround. You thought he was going to hit you. So you have fully prepared yourself for the impact. But it never came.
“Huh? Why did you flinch MC?” You looked into his eyes and saw how wide and concerning he looked. “I was never going to hit you..I’m pacifist.”
“Besides, I can never hurt a cute person!” He smiled brightly at you.
“…You wouldn’t? But I brought shame to you..” Rui didn’t understand why you were so hard on yourself. He simply smiled awkwardly now and tells you that you didn’t bring shame or embarrassment, that you were not a clumsy basic bitch. From that day, he made sure to compliment you whenever.
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(Unedited)
Author’s note: this took a really long time to make. So sorry for the wait and I hope you liked it! Also sorry for making Romeo a bully.
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katerina-marie · 4 months ago
Text
The Tragedy of a Duality
Gojo Satoru x Female Reader and (Past) Ryomen Sukuna x Female Reader
Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3, Chp 4, Chp 5, Chp 6, Chp 7 (Final)
In the present, you are a sorcerer and the cherished wife of the Honored One. In an era long gone, remembered by only one, you were ordinarily human and the beloved bride of the King of Curses. How fitting it would be, in an evening of destruction, to have your heart torn in two.
Content: JJK Universe and Canon Events (tho tweaked to incorporate reader), Fluff, Angst, Flashbacks, Ambiguous ending, Violence, Death, Female reader but left descriptively vague, No use of y/n, True Form Sukuna in the past, Itadori Yuji is Sukuna's vessel in the present but nothing inappropriate b/n reader and Itadori as the vessel, Innuendos, Allusions to + Vaguely described sex so avoid accordingly. Will add more CW to each chapter if needed.
WC: 4.4k
A/N: A bit of a bridge chapter/transitive chapter, if you will.
Chapter 3
The distance between your village and the next largest market isn’t terribly far, but it still takes up a good portion of your morning on the best of days. When the sky begins to grey and thunder rumbles closer and closer, you know your trek is about to become even longer. The smell of wet earth and crisp air is always pleasant to you, but nothing about continuing a journey in robes that are heavy with moisture and cling uncomfortably to your skin sounds enjoyable, so you divert from the road onto a lesser traveled path. 
Sanctuary from the rain under the cover of thick trees is your only option, so you wander and weave between them, cognizant of your general location but unaware of exactly where you might be. Droplets of rain occasionally splatter against your cheek as the sky opens up, and you can hear the droll of it against the foliage above you. Thankfully, you remain mostly dry, and you continue to walk slowly and hum to yourself while waiting for the weather to turn. 
After a few minutes, you spot a bunching of trees that seem different from the rest, and upon closer inspection, excitement runs through you when you realize they bear fruit. You inspect the trail behind you and then side to side to ensure you are alone before hurrying over to one. It takes two or three attempts of you leaping from the tips of your toes before you are able to snag a pear from the lowest lying branch that is still almost beyond your reach. You rub it against your sleeve before taking a bite and relishing in the burst of sweetness on your tongue. You finish it rather quickly and are reaching for another when a voice from behind startles you. 
“Do you have a habit of stealing fruit that doesn't belong to you?” 
When you spin around, your face is contrite and your hands are held up innocently in front of your chest. You are ready to entreat the assumed owner of the land for forgiveness until your eyes fall onto who stands before you, and any logical words die in your throat. You immediately fold yourself into a bow and stare at the ground while you brace trembling hands on your thighs. 
“I beg your forgiveness, my lord.” 
Weeks ago, news of the being that usurped the ruling of the lands you live in reaches your small village. People whisper words of horror and fear about the monster that Ryomen Sukuna is. You know of his second pair of arms and the extra eyes that sit under the first ones. His size and strength set him apart from anything else, but it is his viciousness and ruthlessness that strikes terror in the hearts of anyone who goes near him. The description of him is something out of a nightmare, and the sight of him proves to you the truthfulness of what you hear. 
“You may rise,” Sukuna tells you, but you are slow to stand back up, afraid to find out what happens to those who steal from the King of Curses. You keep your eyes downcast out of respect, but you can still see the white of his robes as he stalks toward you. 
“Am I so repulsive that you cannot bear to look at me?” 
You let out a squeak of alarm and fling your eyes upwards, and you aren’t sure what to make of the interest coloring his face. 
“No, no,” you say placatingly, “that is not it all.” You pause before adding “my lord,” hastily. 
Sukuna laughs, and it is deep and dark from somewhere in his chest. He prowls nearer to you, and you gulp in trepidation. While the image he makes is as intimidating and heart-stopping as you know him to be, there is something otherworldly and enticing about him. The white fabric of his robes are edged in blue and they split open across the great expanse of his chest. You follow the black tattoos from where they trail down his jaw, loop over his shoulder and then continue down his torso. They compete with the muscles of his chest to steal your attention. 
“Tell me,” he muses, finally coming to a stop just an arms length away from you, “what brings you to my new estate?”
Your heart drops to your feet and you blanch. “Your estate?”
“The edge of it, to be exact, but yes—my estate.” 
You contemplate whether making up some pitiful excuse could earn you mercy, but the thought of getting caught in a lie and the punishment that would follow has you choosing truthfulness.
“The r-rain,” you stammer. Sukuna looks at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue, and you step back in wariness. He pursues you, and his feet land in the place yours had just been. “I was on my way to the market in the town north of here when it began to rain.” 
Your hands flit about in front of you before gesturing towards the sky, and you note curiously that while Sukuna’s main set of eyes follow the path of your hands, the ones lower trail over your figure before settling on your face. 
“The trees would keep me dry while I waited for it to stop, but it seems I also felt a bit hungry,” you finish, and your arms flop ineloquently back against your sides. 
In an effort to appear deferential, you quickly clasp your hands over one another in the front of your stomach and hope that Sukuna can’t see how tightly you clench the fabric of your robes between your fingers. He makes a noise in the back of his throat as he weighs your words, and you cast furtive glances over his shoulder or to your feet, anywhere that isn’t his eyes and the intensity of them. They are predatory in their observancy, and you would worry for your life if they did not trace the dip of your collarbones or linger at the curve of your bottom lip.
“How about you return with me?” he offers, and you jerk your gaze back to him. “You may wait out the rain in the comfort of my home and I will repay your company with a meal.” 
No amount of critical thinking produces a plausible answer as to why Ryomen Sukuna is inviting you to his estate. You do consider your own mortality and how vulnerable it is in his presence, though you suspect that bringing you along to his home only to kill you would be excessive and unnecessary. In a similarly frightening, but shockingly alluring alternative, Sukuna could intend to make use of your company in a more salacious and carnal manner. Or it could be as simple as sharing food with one another and filling the time with conversation, maybe giving you the opportunity to deduce a possible explanation by the end. Either choice carries with it problems and difficulties to a varying degree, but the thrill of what is not yet known urges you to acquiesce.
To maintain some sense of propriety, you pretend to ponder his request just a little longer and let your focus flit about to the scenery around you, avoiding Sukuna entirely. From the way his eyebrow quirks upwards and his hands twitch at his sides, you suppose he has caught on to your teasing. 
“I might find that agreeable,” you say, and that draws a sly smirk from him as his eyes flare wide. He moves toward you, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “However, I would like to request another pear before we leave.” 
Sukuna doesn’t say anything, but he takes two large steps forward until his chest skims yours. You tip your chin up to keep a hold of his eyes as he stretches an arm above your head. 
“Whatever you desire,” he croons, and when his hand appears again before your eyes, an unblemished green pear is trapped between his forefinger and thumb as he holds it out to you.
---
In the coming weeks, you are summoned back to Sukuna’s estate with some regularity after the first time he invited you in to ply you with food and drink while he peppered you with questions about your innocuous life. 
A being appears at your door with white hair cut short and an odd strip of red around the back. You have to come to know them as Uraume, unsettling and uninviting in their demeanor, and they hurry you out each time with nothing more than a placid remark of, “it is Sukuna-sama’s request.” 
This time, when the weather is a little warmer, you find yourself in the middle of an expansive garden. It stretches farther than your eyes can see, overflowing with abundance, and when Uraume vanishes after telling you Sukuna will arrive shortly, you take the time to study flowers and plants you are familiar with and wonder at the ones you are not. 
“Why is it no surprise that I find you enamored by common weeds?” 
Sukuna, as you have come to learn, makes no noise that alerts to his sudden appearances. His voice usually sends your heart racing and a gasp is ripped from your lips, though you gradually become used to the slight shift in energy that precedes him. As time passes, you might startle less and less, but until then, you give him an unimpressed look over your shoulder for the way he grins because he scared you, and for the mild insult.
“And why is it no surprise that you would think so lowly of them?” When he narrows his eyes at you, you smile coyly and bow your head just slightly. “My lord.” 
Sukuna is by your side and offers a hand when you begin to rise from your knees. Once you are steadied, he crosses his arms and tucks them back into his sleeves. 
“They are suitable decorations, I can admit, but that is the extent of which I appreciate them.” Sukuna lowers his head to peer into your eyes, and there is something playful and teasing lurking in them. “My interests lie in other more…invigorating pursuits.” 
You cut your gaze from him, shifting a little to be back in reach of the flowers, anything to escape the underlying insinuation of his words and the way they make you flush hot. The sun is also warm on your back, and it is anyone’s best guess as to which is responsible for the way a bead of sweat drips down your neck.
“I acknowledge your opinion, but I do not happen to share it,” you tell him. You turn your back to him completely to brush your hand over a bush of varying colors. “Some of these are medicinal. Others have a pleasant fragrance that I tend to enjoy.” 
You pause and pluck a particular flower from the bunch before facing Sukuna again. “And others simply serve no other purpose than being a beautiful sight to behold.” You lift your hand in front of his face, and cradled in your palm is a blossom the same shade of pink as his hair. 
It delights you to see the way he fights a grin, and in a move that you do not perceive as normally characteristic of him, Sukuna plucks the flower from your fingers and slots it delicately behind your ear. His hand lingers to dance over the apple of your cheek, and when his thumb catches on your bottom lip, you bat your lashes at him coquettishly. 
It is a powerful look you have discovered. The last time you pulled it from your arsenal, you had nipped a piece of fruit from Sukuna’s proffered fingers and let your teeth scratch over the joint of his knuckle. He kissed you breathless there after, and you yearn for it again now. 
It seems to be successful. Sukuna’s hands cup your jaw and tilt your head up. A second pair of arms wind around your waist to drag you against his chest, and your eyelids flutter closed on their own accord when you feel his breath whisper over your lips.
“Tempting,” he says, and a chuckle comes next. Your eyes snap back open, and he taps your mouth when it turns down into a pout. “Worry not, I have a proposition for you.” 
Your expression switches into one of inquisitive interest, and while waiting for Sukuna to continue, you twine your hands into the belt that keeps his robes tied shut. 
“Wed yourself to me.”
---
Two pairs of elaborately decorated ceremonial robes lie discarded on the floor. The storm clouds outside darken Sukuna’s bed chambers and you can hear errant drops of rain hit the ground. Your belly is still full from the celebratory feast that took place after your wedding, but now a deeper satiation makes your body languid and warm. 
You twine your arms under the pillow that cushions your head and stretch lazily against the bed. Your back is exposed to the cool air and it pricks at the drying sweat on your skin. Exhaustion is lowering your eyelids and sleep is beckoning. Before you get there, the side of the bed dips.
“Did you miss me while I was gone?” Sukuna murmurs, though it is playful and unserious. “I have returned to you now.”
A damp linen cloth drags over your lower back and legs before you can answer. You shiver at the chill it leaves, but the warmth of Sukuna’s hand follows behind to chase it away. The gentleness of it is a stark contrast to just earlier when you were under Sukuna and at his mercy to how his hands squeezed, and grasped, and kneaded your body. 
A breath of laughter escapes your nose. “How can I miss you when you were only gone for a moment?” 
Sukuna’s hands freeze and he grunts. “Cantankerous wife,” he mutters. But you smile into the pillow at the affection in his voice, and when he resumes his ministrations on your body, you let the feeling of his hands and the pattering of rain lull you into sleep. 
---------------------------------
Four days pass before you see Itadori Yuji again. 
Much like the afternoon following the incident, you spend the rest of the week proctoring the training of Fushiguro and Kugisaki while Satoru keeps Itadori hidden away for whatever it is that he and Nanami have him doing. You hear bits and pieces from your two students about how Itadori seems to be faring well despite the circumstances, and that the three of them are getting along just fine. 
The scant details are enough to keep your worry mostly abated, and in the spirit of the approaching weekend, you release them from their training a couple hours early. Kugisaki is effusive in her rambles, and you barely catch whatever plans she describes as she hurries off. Fushiguro is much less excitable in his expression of gratitude and departs with a simple bow of his head. Their opposing personalities warm your chest with affection and leave you with a tranquil lightness as you head back to your shared office with Satoru (his insistence) to catch up on reports while you wait for him to finish his day’s work. 
Through the window at your back, the setting sun casts looming shadows into the room, and you have to shake yourself awake as you feel your eyes grow heavy. There is a knock at the door that breaks your concentration from the computer screen in front of you. When you look up, Itadori is standing ramrod straight in the doorway. His shoulders are tense and his eyes are wide, but the expression on his face is friendly. 
“Hello, Itadori,” you say as you lean back in the chair situated at your desk, and he waves at you. “Is everything okay?”
“Yup, everything’s fine.” Except Itadori’s voice is strained and he makes no move to step into your office, nor turn back to walk down the hall. Instead, he rocks on the balls of his feet and shoves his hands into his pockets. You purse your lips and fold your arms across your chest as you watch him expectantly. Itadori blinks back at you. 
“Is there something I can help you with?” you prompt him. Itadori shakes his head, leaving you at a loss, but this time he walks forward and sweeps his eyes across your office. He shuffles to the towering shelves on the right wall and looks closely at a couple books before meandering across the room to pick up various knick knacks you have sitting on a hutch. Your eyes follow him the entire time, and you notice how he quickly moves his focus away from various photographs of you and Satoru over the years that you have pasted on a corkboard hanging on the wall. 
With a sudden spin and jerky movements, Itadori finally comes to sit in the—in your opinion—unsightly black sofa that Satoru placed in the middle of the office and just a few feet in front of your desk so he would have something to nap on when he felt the urge. From it, all Itadori does is look at you. You glance at your computer, unsure what to do, and when the silence starts to feel awkward, you tap your nail against your thumb as you rack your brain for what to say. 
“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can help you with?” you ask. “Or if you’re not comfortable sharing with me, I’m happy to call Nanami or Satoru for you.” You’re already reaching for your phone where it sits next to you on your desk when Itadori blurts out a hasty “no!” 
Your hand freezes, and when you look back up at Itadori, he’s rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, and his knee bounces rapidly. “So, how did you and Gojo-sensei meet?” 
The question catches you off guard, and you stammer as Itadori awaits your answer. It crosses your mind that the boy might simply be lonely and looking for some company now that the school day is over, but it’s nearing evening on a Friday, and you expect him to be finding a way to celebrate the incoming weekend. Just to be certain, you raise your brows in question, and even though Itadori grimaces briefly like he wishes he could take back his request, he nods at you in encouragement. 
“Uh, well,” you start, blowing out a breath and clasping your hands together. “He and I were once students at the school here together…”
It’s not as if you haven’t heard about “the Honored One” before. You’d be hard pressed to believe that anyone in the jujutsu world could have existed presently without knowing of the infamous white-haired sorcerer. Of course you know of his talent, how he is considered the strongest, and you suppose such a title would allow for the level of arrogance he is known to carry. More so, you’ve been subjected enough to the whispered giggles and gossip from the other girls in your school to know that Gojo is—objectively, of course—as attractive as he is powerful, though you didn’t view that bit of information as anything pertinent. 
When Geto Suguru spends two months at your school that was hours and hours away from his for some assignment, you find yourself paired up with him and thus privy to the details of his life as the two of you spend time getting to know one another. You resist asking him about Gojo Satoru in an effort to preserve your dignity, but curiosity gets the best of you, and you give in just a couple of days into the partnership. To your utter shock, as the two of you are walking back to the dorms after a training session, the first thing to pop out of Geto’s mouth about his best friend is to call him a “monumental pain in my ass—affectionately, of course.” 
The words come out warmly, but they cause your jaw to drop nonetheless. Geto laughs and proceeds to tell you everything about Gojo Satoru that you have never hoped to know. He’s goofy and surprisingly awkward at times. His constant craving for sweets is borderline child-like and more akin to an addiction than a simple preference. He sometimes uses too many Digimon references in a sentence, and even Geto can’t always figure out what he means.
When the laughter dies down and the two of you stop at the doors of the dormitory, Geto’s face goes somber and his smile is weak. “Satoru can be a lot, but…he is the biggest burden to himself, and I wish it didn’t have to be that way.” 
Now, half a year later, when circumstances move you to the Tokyo school, Geto Suguru looks mildly embarrassed as he walks you through the gates of the campus. The high bones of his cheeks are mottled red, though that could be explained away by the bitterness of the winter winds, but the hand that’s not carrying one of your duffle bags squeezes at the back of his neck as he chuckles nervously. You drag a suitcase behind you, another bag slung over your shoulder, and you’re grateful that Geto was willing to greet you outside the school to help you get settled in.
“I know I already kind of warned you about him, but I promise he’s actually harmless, if not a bit overly playful.” 
“Trust me,” you say amusedly, “I remember what you told me about Gojo Satoru.” 
“Yeah, well,” Geto mutters, “it’s a whole other thing to hear about Satoru versus actually experiencing him in person for yourself.” 
You roll your eyes and are momentarily perplexed about how lovingly Geto disparages his best friend, but before you can question him about it, someone enthusiastically calls his name from across the grass, and the both of you look ahead in the direction it came from. Gojo Satoru waves erratically before breaking into a jog, and Geto turns back to you with a pointed widening of his eyes. 
You ignore him in favor of watching Gojo eat up the ground with those long legs of his, and all those details come flooding back, even the ones you didn’t care to focus on. The blue of his eyes are breathtaking and unnaturally so. His height makes him lanky, and you figure that time will fill out the rest of his stature, but it doesn’t take away from the charmingness of his boyish grin and the fact that the girls at school are right; he is handsome.
“Suguru!” he exclaims in a greeting once he comes to a stop in front of you two, and Geto nods at his friend. He turns to you next, looking down at you over the rims of his darkened sunglasses, and the smirk on his lips gives you butterflies. And, maybe, you’re a little awestruck because he really is pretty and those eyes of his are unnerving, but you don’t particularly care and—
And then Gojo Satoru opens his mouth and the bubble bursts.
“Ha! He said that?!” Itadori crows, and he throws his head back in unabashed laughter and grasps at his chest. 
You giggle along with him. “He certainly did, but luckily,” and you pause to lift your left hand and wiggle your ring finger so the metal on it gleams, “things worked out just fine.” 
Slowly, both of your laughter disappears and you each look in different directions around the room to fill the silence. The clock next to your door says it’s nearly seven, and the grumbling in your stomach has you considering leaving Satoru to fend for himself in favor of finding yourself a meal. However, Itadori doesn’t make a move to get up, so you let go of your hopes for takeout and shake your computer awake with your mouse before typing away again at your nearly complete report. You’re happy to let the boy sit in companionable quiet if that’s what he needs.
“That was a nice story,” Itadori says a few minutes later, and you are so intently focused on your work that you’re startled into remembering that he is there. “Thank you for telling it to me.” 
  His hands slap against his knees and he springs up from the sofa, and you’re stunned by his abrupt departure. He’s nearly out the door when you finally find your tongue, and the firm way you say his name has him stopping in his tracks. You wait to see if he would respond, but when he doesn’t, you repeat his name a bit more gently this time. 
“What is it?” you coax, and when he turns, his facade of unbotheredness falls, and his face is tired in its place. The sight breaks your heart a little. 
“I don’t mean to waste your time,” he says regrettably and wrings his hands together. You shake your head to reassure him as his shoulders fall dejectedly. “He wanted to see you, is all.” 
The meaning of his words don’t strike you right away, and Itadori raises a hand to tap at his temple. Understanding hits you like a truck when you realize he’s referring to Sukuna, and your mouth falls open.
“Sukuna was really adamant about it for the last couple hours. He’s finally quiet now,” he adds, “so I guess…” 
Itadori trails off with a nonchalant shrug, and you find it entirely too casual for what he just said, but he seems unrattled by the request from the being inside of him. 
“Oh,” you breathe out, stupefied and way too tired to formulate a sensible response or thought. “Well, uh…okay?” 
The laugh that makes its way out of your mouth is a touch disbelieving and maybe a little unhinged, but it pulls a bigger smile out of Itadori, and he uses a hand to gesture vaguely over his shoulder as he begins to take a couple steps backwards towards the door. 
“I’m going to go find Fushiguro and Kugisaki,” he tells you. “I’ll see you and Gojo-sensei next week!” 
Now that you can see the tension has left his body and he appears lighter in mind and spirit, you’re content to return Itadori’s wave of goodbye as he hurries out the door. Once you hear his footsteps fade down the hall, you slump back in your chair and throw an arm over your eyes. 
The King of Curses had wanted to see you, even if only through the eyes of his vessel, so much so that it seems he was willing to pester him into doing his bidding until Itdaori finally relented.
----------------------------
A/N: Chapter count got upped by one, but it should still all come out in a timely manner. We'll get a part 2 to the Reader/Gojo flashback in the next chapter :)
Taglist (open): @kalopsia-flaneur
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sleepinthrumyalarms · 2 years ago
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— your teeth don't scare me
pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader
warnings: descriptions of gore and violence
summary: the first time wednesday ever witnesses the true form of an oni demon, it doesn't drive her away
word count: 1.8k
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"Have you seen (Y/n)?" Wednesday asked as she came up to her roommate where the blonde sat at the table in the dining hall, busy with a plate of a bloody steak, and the sudden appearance of her friend almost made her choke on the chunk of food in her mouth.
"Shit- I haven't. She must've left before dinner," she chewed and proceeded to swallow quickly, now obviously worried, "Why? Is something wrong?"
“Where does she usually go? Does she have a cage, like the werewolves do?”
“She doesn’t,” Yoko answered from the blonde’s side between small sips of bottled blood, “Weems lets (Y/n) run wild in the woods when she turns. Apparently a cage isn’t enough to hold an oni demon.”
Wednesday seemed lost in thought for a bit, then nodded and turned back to Enid.
"I'll be out for a walk. Cover for me if the need arises. Good night."
"Cover for you how? Where are you even going? Wednesday!"
The words fell on deaf ears as Wednesday quickly left the cafeteria, down the hall and to the front entrance of the academy, her steps hurried as she set out into the woods.
As the ravenette walked, she looked up at the sky where the Full Blood Moon was slowly rising from between the dark clouds, as if taunting her – you won’t make it in time, you’re too late.
Like hell she was.
When the trees around the girl became thicker and her vision was obscured by the leaves, her steps momentarily became slow and cautious, careful not to alert someone hostile with her movements. Going into the woods at night was itself a rather bad idea, especially with a monster on the loose, but for Wednesday it was a mere walk in the park, and a rather enjoyable one. There were no sounds except for the wilderness, and the chirping crickets paired with the distant howling of Nevermore's werewolves made for a lovely ambience.
But the ravenette didn’t venture into the small forest for her enjoyment. There was aim in her step, and in her hand she held a golden accessory that she knew belonged to a certain oni girl who needed it during every Full Blood Moon. Wednesday wasn't sure what exactly its purpose was, but she didn't think much about it - she had to bring it to (Y/n), lest something horrible happened.
The girl looked around, catching sight of deep claw marks and fallen trees around her, and she knew she was close. Leaves crunched under her boots as Wednesday stepped closer to a clearing, and through the thick trunks she could make out a dark hunched silhouette. The ravenette slowed down, carefully squeezing through the bushes, and held her breath at the scene in front of her.
The huge creature was sitting on the forest floor, tusked maw completely buried in a body of an animal, and upon closer look Wednesday could make out a young deer, a chunk of its neck bitten off. The oni's claws were sunk into the prey, and she mauled at the raw flesh with loud munching noises as if she hadn't eaten in months, blood and intestines getting all over her torn hakama pants and face. Advancing forward, Wednesday could see huge horns adorning the top of the demon's shaggy head, something akin to scales covering the tips in splashes of dark - red color, and the same rough scales grew on her feet and hands, clashing against the greyish skin of the oni.
Wednesday heard a branch snap under her boot suddenly, and (Y/n) turned her head sharply to look at the source of the sound. When the (e/c) cat - like eyes flicked to the smaller girl's body, the demon furrowed her eyebrows, and a low intimidating growl came from somewhere deep in her throat.
"(Y/n)," Wednesday began, but didn't risk to take another step closer, "It's me. I brought your pendant." She held the dragon charm up by the lace to show it to the monstrous girl, and the ruby eyes of the golden ornament shined in the moonlight.
The oni let go of the deer, the carcass hitting the dirt with a disgusting wet squelch, and rose to her full height, the ground shaking under her clawed feet. She slowly walked over to the ravenette, towering over her much smaller frame, and Wednesday's head could barely reach the demon's navel. The creature got on all fours to get face to face with the girl in front of her, clawed hands furrowing the soil, before her huge maw fell open with a deafening roar.
Wednesday didn't budge, staring at the demon with an unbothered expression, even though the rush of powerful air worried her hair and clothes. Then (Y/n) closed her mouth and huffed, steam coming out of her nostrils.
"Was that a 'thank you'?" Wednesday asked, clearly not in the mood for the oni's attitude. A spark of recognition glistened in the demon's eyes at the tone, but her heavy jaw snapped in front of Wednesday's face menacingly.
"None of that. I'm sorry I interrupted your dinner time, but you need this," the ravenette berated the creature as if she was scolding a guilty dog, and not a seven feet tall demonic abomination, "Come on. I'll put it on for you."
The oni thought for a moment, shoulders rising and falling with deep breaths, before she complied, sitting in front of the ravenette and crossing her legs. She huffed again, a grumpy display of reluctant obedience, and watched as the small girl carefully got on her tip — toes to swing the lace around her massive neck. Wednesday fixed the pendant on the demon's chest, then, satisfied with the way it glinted in the darkness, looked up at (Y/n), meeting her terrifying (e/c) eyes. The body of the oni was incredibly warm, and being so close to her was like sitting next to a radiator on a cold winter morning, the feeling rather pleasant and tingly. Wednesday's gaze slid down to the bloodied mouth of the creature, and she sighed.
"Such a messy eater," rummaging around in the pocket of her hoodie, she produced a black handkerchief, and carefully grabbed the demon by the chin to wipe at her lips and protruding tusks, "Don't you know blood is hard to wash off?"
(Y/n) grunted in reply, letting the ravenette clean her up, and when Wednesday was finished, the oni nuzzled her snout against the girl's smaller pale face with surprising gentleness, but the force was still enough for Wednesday to almost loose her footing.
"Well now you're just sucking up to me."
The demon snorted resentfully, baring her tusks, and Wednesday rolled her eyes, raising her hand to caress the big creature under her chin, scratching softly.
"Fine. Don't sulk."
A deep purr resonated through the oni's chest and she closed her eyes, undoubtedly enjoying the affection. What a strange scene it was - a much smaller human girl turning a huge oni demon into complete putty in her hands.
"Are you coming back soon?" Wednesday inquired, resting her palm on the demon's cheek, and (Y/n) opened her eyes, grumbling in disagreement and looking up at the night sky. The ravenette followed her gaze, where the Blood Moon was shining at its peak.
"I could stay with you."
The oni growled in response, shaking her head from side to side wildly, her disheveled (h/c) hair swishing with the movement like a lion's mane.
"I'm not helpless, (Y/n). I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."
(Y/n) sighed at the ravenette's stubbornness. Of course, there was no way to ever convince her otherwise. But still, the demon girl didn't want to run any risks - she knew she could protect Wednesday if the circumstances would force her to do so, but she'd prefer her as far from danger as possible, if she could help it.
The demon butted her head against the girl's chest, nudging her forward to where she came from. A whine escaped her lips when Wednesday held her ground again, sitting down in the demon's lap instead and reaching for her big rough hand with both of her smaller palms, clasping them around the limb gently.
"I... I don't want to leave you." She mumbled, tracing her lithe fingers over the scaled skin.
God, how could (Y/n) deny her? She was weak for the gloomy girl, and now the small moment of vulnerability almost made her melt. The calming charm on her neck was definitely working its wonders — the demon relented, hanging her head and breaking eye contact with a sigh of defeat, broad shoulders sagging.
(Y/n) wished she could tell the girl she just wanted her to be safe.
A gust of cold wind blew through the clearing, and Wednesday couldn't suppress a small shiver. She was definitely underdressed, too hurried to get to (Y/n) to care about what she wore, the hoodie she put on over her striped sweatshirt not enough to protect her from the breeze.
Noticing her discomfort, the oni held the girl's body closer to herself, wrapping her arms around her, crossed legs tightening, and her big warm frame made a shelter for the ravenette, shielding her from the nipping weather. Wednesday pressed her head against the demon's chest, the calming rumbles and her beating heart fusing into a soothing lullaby.
(Y/n)’s slitted eyes scanned the clearing for intruders, never letting her guard down as she held the small girl in her arms like one would hold their most treasured possession, afraid to ever let go.
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When Wednesday opened her eyes, she was greeted by the still dark sky. There was barely any light coming from between the clouds, but she was sure it wasn’t nighttime anymore – the color was brighter than before, and the chirping of crickets was replaced by the singing of early morning birds.
Slowly shifting on what she thought was the forest floor, the ravenette felt her soft – too soft to be the floor – bedding move under her body. Carefully propping herself up on her elbows, Wednesday realised she was lying on top of (Y/n), the demon’s form back to her normal size, and she was snoozing away, tusked mouth slightly open as she breathed calmly. One of her arms was draped over Wednesday’s waist protectively, and her golden dragon pendant adorned her half – naked being in a beautiful morning glow – wait, half – naked?
Wednesday averted her eyes at the realisation, color dusting her cheeks slightly. The demon’s haori was hanging from the ravenette’s shoulders, no doubt serving as a blanket during the cold night, and the only article of clothing the oni wore were her half – torn pants. Laying her head back against (Y/n)’s chest, Wednesday closed her eyes, the slow rise and fall of the taller girl’s diaphragm lulling her back to sleep.
They could afford some more rest.
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demilypyro · 1 year ago
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At what point in time did you see a giant hammer and go “yeah, that’s my main.”
Monster Hunter: World is a 2018 action role-playing game developed and published by Capcom. The fifth mainline installment in the Monster Hunter series, it was released worldwide for PlayStation 4 and Xbox One in January 2018, with a Windows version following in August 2018. In the game, the player takes the role of a Hunter, tasked to hunt down and either kill or trap monsters that roam in one of several environmental spaces. If successful, the player is rewarded through loot consisting of parts from the monster and other elements that are used to craft weapons and armor, amongst other equipment. The game's core loop has the player crafting appropriate gear to be able to hunt down more difficult monsters, which in turn provide parts that lead to more powerful gear. Players may hunt alone or in a group of up to four players via the game's online multiplayer.
Announced at E3 2017, Monster Hunter: World adopts the series' standard formulas from its older home console roots and recent handheld games to take advantage of the higher processing power provided by modern consoles and computers. Changes made in Monster Hunter: World include creating environmental spaces that are fully connected and removing the "zones" that were necessary for the PlayStation 2 and handheld games, more advanced monster artificial intelligence and physics, a more persistent cooperative multiplayer experience, and a refinement of the game's tutorials and user interface to help with bringing new players into the series. These changes led Capcom to plan for the game's simultaneous release worldwide, since Monster Hunter as a series has generally languished outside of Japan partially due to disparate release schedules. Capcom also opted to support online play between these different geographic regions for similar reasons. The delay for the Windows release was attributed to Capcom seeking to make sure its first foray into the Windows market was optimized for players on computers. By April 2020, updates to the game were synchronized among all platforms.
Monster Hunter: World received critical acclaim upon release, with critics praising how Capcom was able to make the game more accessible to new players and to Western markets, without detracting from the series' core gameplay elements and enjoyable difficulty, and fully taking advantage of the computational capacity of modern consoles to create living ecosystems, with some even calling it the best in the franchise. Monster Hunter: World is the single highest-selling game in Capcom's history, with over 21 million copies shipped by July 2022. A DLC expansion pack, subtitled Iceborne, was released for home consoles in September 2019 and for Windows in January 2020, and reached 10 million sales by December 2022. The next mainline installment, Monster Hunter Rise, was co-developed alongside World and announced for a worldwide release on Nintendo Switch in March 2021, with a Windows version released the following year.
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fairy-starlight · 7 days ago
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imagine your best friend selling you out to be a demon’s slave to save herself. 
cw: noncon, monster fucking, size difference, stomach bulge, cervix kissing/penetration, creampie, cumflation, mind break, anal creampie. minors, terfs and swerfs dni.
you never have a problem doing a favour for your best friend which is why you didn’t ask any questions when she told you to lay down naked in a huge circle of salt and candles in her basement. you figured she was just getting into the spirit and what kind of friend would you be if you refused? you don’t know what she is saying as she stands outside the circle and you start to get a little weirded out when you hear the wind whistling even though there are no windows. the candles go out on their own, surrounding you in total darkness as your friend goes silent. the candles relight themselves and suddenly there’s a terrifying creature right above you. you scream and try to crawl away but the creature growls as it crawls over you and smells your skin.
“don’t be afraid. or do. it doesn’t matter,” your friend says and you look at her, so many questions in your mind but you’re too preoccupied with terror to ask. “believe me, the last thing i wanted to do was sell you out but it was either become a demon’s slave or find someone else to take my place and you were the first person that came to mind. i knew you would do anything i asked without asking because you’re such a good friend.”
“what are you talking about?” you barely manage to stammer out as tears fill your eyes.
“i messed around with something i shouldn’t have and was about to become this demon’s personal slave, which i did not want to do so i struck a deal. if i could find someone to take my place, i’ll be safe. that’s where you come in. neither of you can leave this circle until the demon gets what it came for and returns to hell and as long as i stay outside, i’m safe,” your friend explains as she walks over to the circle while still keeping a safe distance. “unfortunately for you, demons are insatiable and pack a lot. hope you can make some room.”
your friend smirks at the confused look on your face and when you look down, your eyes widen in panic. the demon has a huge cock between its legs and your head is spinning. is that supposed to go inside of you?! there’s absolutely no way that’s going to fit inside without tearing you apart! you scream as you try to get away but the demon grabs your hips and pulls you closer. you squirm and try to close your legs but its wide hips keeps them apart as its cock rests against your pussy, the weight of it making your anxiety rise. it growls as it thrusts its hips, the length sliding between your folds and rubbing your clit as the tip going just past your navel putting into perspective how big it really is.
“don’t worry too much. i slipped in a little something in that spell to make things a little more enjoyable for you,” your friend smiles as the demon’s cock becomes coated in your slick. “i guess it’s already working.”
precum leaks out of the tip and drips onto your skin as it thrusts faster until it starts to get impatient. it keeps your body folded in half, unable to resist and fight back as the swollen head catches your wet hole. you cry out and squirm as the demon attempts to push its cock further into your pussy but it doesn’t seem to be allowing it. the tip alone is already struggling to get inside and there’s no telling what will happen if the demon manages to get its whole cock inside. the tip slips past your hole and the demon’s cock slides through your folds. the creature tries to put its cock inside again but the tip just slips out and the length rubs against your pussy.
“fuck, you must be a really tight one. but i know you can do it. i’ve seen the toys you fuck,” your friend laughs and your face heats up in embarrassment.
yes, you’ve taken some pretty big toys up your pussy but none of them were ever as long or thick as the cock attached to a literal demon.
its large hands hold your hips tighter as it pushes the tip against your pussy, keeping you pinned as it tries once again to get inside. you cry out when the demon manages to get the tip as well as another few inches inside your tight cunt, stretching you beyond your limit and creating a noticeable bulge in your stomach.
“oh, fuck! that is so fucking hot,” your friend moans as her gaze zeros in on the bulge as your pussy stretches around the demon’s cock.
the creature growls as it keeps your hips pinned against the floor and pushes more of its cock into your pussy. your eyes roll back into your head as tears run down your face, ruining your makeup as your jaw hangs open. your friend watches your face as the demon manages to get half of its cock inside your pussy and you’re already fucked out and it barely started. the demon pulls out to the tip, your pussy gripping it and trying to suck it back in. even when you were scared and resisting, your body can’t deny what it wants. the demon shoves its cock back into your pussy, the tip kissing your cervix as it fucks you hard and deep. your walls are squeezing its cock like a vice as your pussy tries to suck it back in every time it drags it away from the entrance to your womb. your legs spread open on their own, allowing the creature access as it continues to fuck you like it owns you.
your friend watches the bulge in your stomach, mesmerized by the way it moves with every thrust and how you just take it like you were made for this. she doubts she herself would be able to take a demon’s cock like you are so maybe it’s not such a horrible thing that she sold you out to take her place without hesitation. after all, you seem to be enjoying the brutal pounding, almost as if your body was specifically made to take a demon’s cock.
the demon growls as it pulls you closer until your hips are resting atop its own and angled upwards. it grabs your thighs and and presses them against your chest, folding you in half as it forces the rest of its cock into your pussy, making your scream as the tip breaks into your womb, stretching you in a different way and numbing your mind completely. it thrusts deep into your cunt, stretching you open and you have no choice but to lay there and accept the brutal fucking as it uses your body however it pleases. your pussy squeezes its cock so tight it almost reminds your friend of a rubber band squeezing her wrist too tightly. the sight does make her wonder what it would be like to take demon cock but thanks to you, she’ll never have to worry about that.
“i guess it had a lot of cum stored up and it needed to escape somewhere,” she says and when she looks up, the demon is gone, leaving you laying there in a mess of cum with a swollen belly making it look like you’re a few months pregnant. she walks into the circle and kneels down next to you, her hand rubbing your stomach and pressing down on it, forcing the demon’s cum out of your holes. “we should empty you out now and make some room before it comes back. i did say demons are insatiable and that they pack a lot.”
the demon shoves every inch of its cock into your pussy and grinds its hips against yours. your friend immediately realizes what it’s doing and watches in awe as your belly starts to swell up. pathetic whines and whimpers escape your parted lips slick with drool as you feel its hot cum shoot straight into your womb filling you up until you can’t hold any more, your womb too full and holding all that it can take. the demon pulls its cock out of your pussy with a wet pop! cum still leaking out of the tip and needing somewhere to go. the demon takes you and your friend by surprise when it stuffs only the tip into your ass, making you cry out at the sudden intrusion as its cum shoots straight into your guts. your belly is swollen with cum but the demon doesn’t seem to be finished yet. it keeps your hips angled upwards and your legs pinned open as it shoves the rest of its cock up your ass and cums again, filling you up even more as cum gushes out of your leaking pussy and coats your skin. your friend watches in amusement as cum gushes out of your mouth and coats your face and tits.
you whine pathetically as you feel the cum gushing out of you as you lay there limp and unmoving. the demon filled you up with enough to get you pregnant and still came so much that it needed to fill your ass and it still wasn’t enough. how the hell were you supposed to do this for as long as you live now that you’re officially a demon’s slave?
“be a good whore and just stay in the circle. it should be back soon enough to empty its balls again.”
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bunni-v1 · 4 months ago
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Cureé
Chapter 4: Questions Answered, Fears Realized Previous Chapter||Next Chapter
TW: None(?); Reader and Vil have a strenuous relationship
Info: Ace, Deuce, and Reader (platonic); Vil and Reader (familial); Rook x Reader; Reader has a lil crush on Riddle; Reader has a BIG crush on Rook
Word Count: 8.5k words
🍓As promised, here is chapter 4! It took so long to write because it's pretty long itself... Still, I hope it's enjoyable! Love you all <3
Taglist: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck @squidsailing @roseinbloom02 @savanaclaw1996 (please let me know if you wish to be added/removed!)
You woke up in a cold sweat, your dreams were filled with monsters made of ink destroying your city and beady red eyes watching your every move. You groan, the sun burning your eyes with its unwelcome presence. You wished you had the royal power to demand the sun rise later in the day, but alas your influence could not change the universe. It could hardly change anything in the first place.
Reluctantly, you rolled over on your side, glaring at your clock—ten in the morning. You overslept. With an annoyed sigh, you sat up and angrily moved around the room, dressing yourself in something more light and casual than your maids would normally have you. After ensuring you looked half presentable, you stepped into the hall to be greeted by your delightful companion Ace.
“You look awful,” he says plainly.
“Good morning to you too, Ace. What a pleasure to see you today.” You snark back.
“I think you look fine princess,” Deuce tried to soothe, but you sent him a glare, “Nevermind.”
You slump down the hallway to the main dining room – which was quite a walk from here – practically radiating exhaustion with each step. You serfs and maids gave you a wide berth, while your guards practically stepped on your toes with how close they were.
“Could you two give me space.” You say, sharper than you intended.
Deuce diligently steps back, but Ace pushes his shoulder into yours playfully.
“What crawled up your ass this morning.”
You sigh, rolling your head back in annoyance, “I hardly slept last night. Too many night terrors… and an odd encounter that I’m still not positive wasn't a dream…”
Deuce gave you a soft pat on your back, falling back into step beside you, “We heard from Trey.”
“Of course you did…” You sigh.
“Listen, speaking as your friend,” Ace begins, “if this… thing is causing you so much stress, why worry about it at all.”
“Because it concerns the safety of my people! I can’t stand by where their lives could be in danger. What ruler would I be if I allowed them to die knowingly?” You exclaim.
The two of them shared a look, then Deuce spoke, “A pretty typical one, actually…”
You groan, running your fingers through your hair, “I don’t want to be ‘typical’, I want to be good! More than good, I want to be great! Loved, even!”
Another look, longer this time, as neither of them could come up with something to say. You smoothed over your hair, then took a deep breath, and gave both of them an apologetic smile.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be taking my anger out on you. You’ve been helpful this whole time,” you sigh out, “It’s just… brick wall after brick wall here. I’m growing weary.”
Ace hums, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “Then… why don’t we look outside the castle?”
You hadn’t considered the idea, for some reason, too caught up in your head to be rational. If magic was essentially naught in the castle, you’d just have to look elsewhere for it. Though… where you could look was very few and far between. Magic was also banned to the common folk, but you’d heard whispers of magic shops run illegally in the shady parts of town. Perhaps you could find a lead there.
“That's… a great idea actually,” you respond, slowly, “thank you.”
First, however, you were late to breakfast with your brother. Who you are confident has been sitting at the dinner table patiently this whole time, because as busy as he is, he is just as stubborn about the time he spends with you. It was flattering! If only you weren’t anticipating the lecture you would get for your sleeping habits. 
You enjoyed a few more moments of idle prattle with your friends until you arrived at the grandiose doors to the dining room. You bid Ace and Deuce farewell, promising to save a few pastries for them, and then stepped into the room where your brother sat – visibly annoyed. Still, he managed to make the wrinkle in his brow and the curl of his lip stunning. His beauty was magical, and you considered for a moment that it truly may have been but banished the thought as it came.
“I have other things to attend to, you know,” he drawls, scowling.
“And yet, you’re still sitting here,” you respond, taking your seat next to him with a smile.
As if he cannot remain angry with you – which you know he cannot – he laughs under his breath and reaches over to fix your still-tousled hair. 
“You look awful,” he comments, “are you not getting sleep.”
You sigh, swatting his hands away, “I… have been having night terrors.”
“Night terrors again? Have you spoken to one of our doctors, I’m sure they may have something to help.” He worries.
“It’s… not that simple. I am fine. I would tell you if something was of concern.” You ease with grace, taking his hand and giving it a firm squeeze.
He smiles at you, worries not quite out of his face, and squeezes your hand back. As he does so, the head chef and several other members of the kitchen staff flood the room and fill the table with delightful breakfast foods. Your favorites, meaning Vil was going to drop something awful on you while you ate.
You thanked the staff, loading up your plate in excitement, taking note of the things Ace and Deuce would enjoy as you did so. Of course, they would both eat anything on the table with delight, but you had to be careful about how much you brought out of the room. The head chef did not enjoy it when you ate outside of the dinner room – silly if you were to say anything about it, but you respected your staff and the hard work they did.
“So?” You ask.
Vil raises a brow at you, swallowing down his food, “So…?”
“Don’t be coy. You have something to tell me, so tell me.”
“I thought maybe we could eat before I ruined the mood…” He sighed.
You smirked, “So it is something bad.”
“It isn’t bad,” he corrects, “you just wouldn’t like it.”
You give him an indifferent hum, “Just tell me, it’ll make things easier.”
He sighs, again, and sets his silverware down, straightening himself out before finally speaking, “I have requested that your suitors have dinner together with you and me… which, of course, requires your attendance.”
You purse your lips, poking at the eggs on your plate, “When would this dinner be?”
“Two days from now…” he pauses, thinking for a moment, then adding, “I thought it would be a good chance for you to get to know them…”
You give him an odd look, “I do know most of them, you know. I do my research.”
“Get to know them outside of books and half-assed conversation,” he corrects snarkily, earning a laugh from you at his sudden swearing. Very unlike your brother.
“Okay, okay… I will be there. Only if I can sit near Rosehearts.” You bargain.
“Why him?”
“He has been…” you think over how to put it. When compared to the social recluse of Idia, the asshole that is Leona, and whatever Malleus’ deal was Riddle seemed to be the easiest to talk to. “Not unpleasant. And I would like a chance to properly talk to him about equestrians.”
“He likes equestrians?” 
“Very much so, yes.”
Your brother hums, “That… would make a lot of sense. I’m sure I could see that done, so long as you will actually show.”
You frown, “Who do you take me for? I would never not show.”
He raises his eyebrows at you, and you scoff, deciding to go back to eating instead of arguing about it. The food is delicious, and the conversation you have with your brother is also nice. Your new guards, his responsibilities, the state of the village people. Regular things.
He finds the stories you tell of Ace and Deuce to be amusing, though you have to assure him that they do protect you. You pointedly avoid telling him about what exactly you’ve been researching so adamantly, despite his attempts to figure it out. He is busy, as usual, and is very quickly running out of niceties for your suitors who are… exhausting. As expected. Of course, he discusses the reports he receives about the village, and you give him the gossip you’ve managed to overhear from castle staff and visitors. It’s so normal, it's almost as if he isn’t hiding a potentially deadly secret from you.
Of course, you cannot help but ask about Epel, despite just having seen him. You blame the itching curiosity to see what his excuse might be.
“How has Epel been, by the way, I have not seen him in a while,” you say, eyeing your brother carefully.
His eyebrow twitches, and you can tell he does not have a good excuse to give, “I… have been keeping him busy.”
“To keep him from me?” you push.
You can tell you’ve won from the way his mouth turns into a thin line, he cannot lie his way out of this one, “Precisely.”
“Why? He is my closest friend, you know that.”
He considers his answers for a long moment, before sighing, “I- He is a very headstrong person, as are you. I don’t want a repeat of what happened that night.”
You tense. Did he know what you saw? Did Epel tell him? Surely Epel would’ve told you if he did, he wouldn’t leave something important like that out, would he? 
“It was just… a bear larger than we were used to,” you quickly lied, hoping to the sevens your brother would just take it.
To your relief, he doesn’t seem to argue, though you can see the suspicion in his eyes, “It was dangerous. I will not lose another one of my blood to that forsaken forest.”
“The hunters from the village go in there all the time, what is so different when I go hunting.” You argue.
“Because,” he says sharply, and you know you’ve reached the end of his patience, “you are the princess. You have a responsibility to the kingdom, and no matter how skilled you are, one mistake could cost your life. I will not lose my family again, and I will not allow our people to mourn another member of the royal court.”
Something in you – resentment that has been building for quite a while – bubbles up out of your throat before you can stop it. 
“I have no responsibility, though! I am…” you struggle to find the words, waving your hand frustratedly in the air, “useless to this kingdom.”
“You aren’t–”
“I am! You do not let me be anything more than a pretty face and a… bargaining piece! I am nothing more than an object for your political game!” You finally get out, “Everyone here is!”
Saying it aloud makes you feel amazing, but the dread that replaces the relief as you watch your brother's expression reach a boiling point is far worse than the tension from before. Vil cannot school his expression, and even if he could, the whiteness on his knuckles around his silverware was enough to give away his anger.
“You do not have responsibility…” he starts, slowly, “because you still throw tantrums, and you cannot seem to understand just how important your role is. Some sacrifices must be made as the princess.”
You bite back your response, shoving your plate away from yourself. You were not hungry anymore. “I understand,” You pause, before adding, “Your Majesty.”
The hurt that crosses Vil’s face is almost liberating, but you decide you won’t be staying around to take it in. 
“I’m no longer hungry. I’ll grab some leftovers for later.” You say coolly.
“You won’t be joining me for dinner?” Vil asks, voice uncharacteristically small.
“I don’t believe either of us wants that right now.”
You collect two plates full of leftovers for your guards – under the guise that it was for yourself – and quickly storm out into the hall before the head chef could see. When you get back to your room, you present them to your friends with a bright smile, and they practically drool as they take the delicacies out of your hands. Watching them eat is… unpleasant, but you're happy to see them so happy. It makes you feel just a little better.
You can tell that they know you’re upset, but they are kind enough not to mention it. They’d learned not to ask about what happens between you and your brother, for both your sake and theirs. Instead, they keep light conversation – mostly about how good the food is, and how they wish they were royalty.
“So,” Ace starts, mouth full, “When are we heading out for the village? Later this week?”
“Today!” You say excitedly, “Which reminds me, I should probably dress down a bit more.”
“I’m sorry your majesty,” Deuce interrupts, “Today? Don’t you have to request permission to leave?”
“Yes, to both! Which is exactly why we won’t be requesting permission!” You announce proudly, and the two of them stare at you in disbelief.
“Woah, is goodie-two-shoes going bad on us, Deuce?” Ace laughs.
“I think they may be, Ace.” Deuce responds.
You scoff, rolling your eyes at them, “Shut up, and once you’re done eating go dress in casual clothes and meet me outside at the fountain. We’ll be sneaking out through the back gates since they’re less heavily guarded.”
They share another look, shrug, and go back to wolfing down their plates.
·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·
As soon as they were finished with their plates, you tossed on the absolute plainest clothes you owned. A simple dress with no elaborate stitching, no silk, no velvet. Just a regular dress, one you bought because you saw so many young girls wearing it around the village once. It was the most comfortable thing you owned, you wished the fancy things you owned could be pretty and comfortable like this one.
You washed the makeup from your face, threw what hair you could back, and tossed a cloak on top for extra measure. Giving yourself a final look over, you smiled. You looked like a normal person. From the corner of your eye, you spotted the hat the huntsman gave you so long ago. It had become a confidence booster of sorts recently, but the deep purple and the feather stood out a bit too much to consider bringing it along. 
Shrugging to yourself, you gently run a finger over the feather and then turn to leave. Perhaps you’ll wear it out some other day.
You made your way to the fountain as swiftly and stealthily as possible, and very quickly ushered your friends out and around the castle walls. Easier than you expected it to be, but you were not going to complain about it. 
You practically skipped down the roads of the city, taking in the beauty of its simple architecture. Sure, you had it great up in the castle, and if you were living here you’d want to be in the castle instead, but you truly did wish you were born in the city. The bustle of your citizens chattering to each other and the smell of fresh baked goods flooded the streets. It was an experience you could never wish to have back at home.
You weren’t here for that, though. No, you were here to get more answers. 
“Where are we heading,” Ace asked for the umpteenth time.
“I told you I can’t tell you, it’s a secret.”
“You having secrets, little goodie-two-shoes you?” he snarked.
“Yes, even I have secrets. Besides, these people are seedy.”
“Is this safe princess,” Deuce asked, a bit weary.
“It should be, I just want to be sure.”
Ace scoffed, and you sent him a glare. 
“You’re running us around in circles again, Princess. Maybe this whole thing is fake and you’re freaking out for no reason.”
“It is real Ace,” Deuce said before you could, with a confidence you had never held on the subject at hand. “I mean– if the princess says it’s real, it must be,” he quickly added. 
You smiled, “Thank you, Deuce. Anyway, Ace, I’ll buy you whatever you’d like after this if you’d just stop your whining.”
“Deal,” he said all too fast, earning an eye roll from both you and Deuce.
The three of you continued on your path, taking turns down several roads until you started to wander through the back alleys. These streets were dark and damp, the walls of buildings worn down and crumbling after years of disrepair. Very few people were out here, and those that were kept their heads held low. Ace and Deuce stayed close to your side, and you were grateful you asked them to come with you. 
You tugged your cloak to cover more of your face. You’d only heard of this place when researching your citizens' daily lives – a few of them known to practice magic under your brother's nose (not that you cared) – actually visiting was terrifying. You almost wanted to turn back and call it a day. Still, you were doing this for the greater good of your people, so you’d have to suck it up and be a proper ruler.
Eventually, among the winding alleyways, you finally stumbled across your destination. A hole-in-the-wall shop, its sign read “Mr. S’s Mystery Shop” in faded cursive, a little hat atop ‘Mr. S’s’. Charming, you thought. The door was made of pretty mahogany, worn down from water damage and sun exposure over the years. Despite its wear and tear, it was still the nicest-looking shop in this area, and that put your nerves slightly at ease.
Smiling, you turned to your guards, “This is it!”
Ace eyed you up and down. Deuce looked horrified.
“What,” you asked, “why are you looking at me like that?”
Ace scoffed, “We did all this secretive stuff just for you to take us to a souvenir shop?”
You frowned, “It’s not a souvenir shop, it’s a magic shop, and we’re going to go in and find clues.”
“Like we’re detectives or something?” Ace said, dripping with sarcasm.
“Yes, like we’re detectives ‘or something’,” you snapped back, “if you have a problem with it you can stay out here, but if something happens to me you’ll have to explain to Rosehearts why you weren’t doing your job.”
Deuce snickered at your words, earning him a smack from Ace, but Ace didn’t argue any further, trudging along behind you and Deuce. Satisfied with this, you turned back to the shop and pushed open the door.
The first scent that hit you was warm, like firewood burning at a campfire. The next was an array of earthy tones, reminding you of your time spent in the woods. It was oddly comforting coming from a place like this. 
Inside looked much better than outside, you could say that for certain. While the building was broken down and the shelves were cluttered with an array of magical items, it was clean and cozy. The shop itself was small, only allowing for around five or six people at a time. Its hardwood floors were creaky and scuffed from years of boots stepping all over it. The decorations consisted of different types of animal bones and hide hung about the wall. Perhaps the shop owner was a hunter as well.
In the corner of the shop was pretty purple carpeting and a cozy little chair – you assumed to sit and read some of the books on display. Each book was labeled something magic-related, carefully bound, and wrapped in stained leather. The shop was… charming! Cute in a way that only something like this would be. You almost felt welcomed, if the threat of this being a black market wasn’t in the back of your mind the whole time.
The shopkeep wasn’t behind the counter. there was no one in there except for the three of you. Frowning, you glanced around again, taking in what was on the shelves this time. Along the back wall behind the counter were several vials filled with liquids. Each vial was a different color, some pink and sparkling, others deep green and almost powdery. Potions. From what little you knew about magical practice, these were the most commonly used – some doctors were even permitted to make magical potions to help with difficult diseases.
On the counter were several trinkets, all of varying types – like souvenirs you might find in hot tourist spots. The whole shop felt like a tourist trap, which made you resolve to waiver a bit. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. 
Ace nudged your shoulder, pointing to a shelf with a collection of magical pens and staves, all with a shimmering gem at the top. They were pretty, each crafted with painstaking detail, and each very not legal for use. Though, you supposed purchasing them wasn’t illegal in any way. The use of magical pens and staffs were outlawed nearly as soon as your brother came to power. You’d seen a few in your lifetime, namely your fathers when you were very little, but this was your first time seeing them so close. Despite your better judgment, you wandered over to get a better look.
Each had a unique design. While the pens generally didn’t differ too much, outside of the type of pen or the color, the staves were something magnificent. Hand carved out of various types of woods, polished to perfection. The gems were held firmly at the top, some by ferocious beasts like lions and wolves, while others were cradled in the pretty paws of black cats. You had no idea that the magic market here was large enough for such variation.
Ace, who had been standing next to you, plucked one off the wall. You sucked in a breath as if it would explode the second he touched it, but nothing happened. He grinned and waved it at you.
“You scared?” he teased, waving it in your face.
“No.”
“Then take it.”
He shoved it at you, and you jumped back into Duece's chest. He steadied you gently, swiping the staff from Ace’s hands. You expected him to put it away, but instead, he carefully offered it up to you. You raised your eyebrows at him.
“Ace just wants to show you that magic isn’t going to hurt you,” he eased gently, “right?”
“Yeah, yeah,” he drawled, “listen, Princess, both Deuce and I think it’s really weird how you don’t know anything about magic. There’s nothin’ to be scared of with this stuff, it’s not gonna eat you or anything.”
You took a deep breath in, “I dunno, I mean… there must be a reason Vil kept me away from it all my life.”
The two of them shared a look, then Ace said, “If I may speak freely, your brother sucks. Everyone in his stupid little court sucks.”
Deuce nodded along, “I wouldn’t say they suck, but I do think that your brother hasn’t been honest with you about all this magic stuff. Even Ace and I know a little bit of magic – most people do. Didn’t you have magical lessons when you were younger?”
You frown and nod, “I did. Before my parents died my father was teaching me magic, but after they passed Vil put in place statewide restrictions and banned me from using magic. I’ve… sort’ve forgotten how to do it at all.”
Ace hums, “Seems like your brother has an issue with doing that to you.”
Deuce nodded, giving you a pitying look, “We aren’t gonna force you, but as your temporary guards we have to keep you safe and let you know you will always be safe. We would never put you in harm's way, you know that Princess.”
That was… oddly knightly of Deuce. You knew he was right. Truthfully, if this was so dangerous the two of them likely would’ve been fighting harder to keep you away from this stuff. Or maybe not, but they wouldn’t willingly force a dangerous magical item in your hands – not with the threat of Riddle and your brother at their backs.
You swallowed, taking one more deep breath, then reached out to grab the staff from Deuce. You closed your eyes in anticipation of something happening, but instead, there was nothing. Just a big polished black stick in your hand. You opened your eyes to both Ace and Deuce smiling at you. Curiously, you examined the staff in your hands. 
Since it had been stained black, you couldn’t tell what kind of wood it was, but it was sturdy. The gem was a pretty sparkling green, held in the paws of a rather charming-looking fox. You flipped it a few times in your hands, liking the way it felt. You waved it around a few times, laughing at the ridiculousness of your fear in hindsight, then firmly stamping it on the ground and striking a dramatic pose.
“How do I look? Like a magician?” you joked.
“You look ridiculous,” Ace laughed, clutching his sides as if it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.
Deuce seemed to agree with how hard he was laughing. Normally you would be offended, but you found the whole situation too silly to be angry about it. You laughed along with your companions, reveling in the normalcy of the moment.
“It suits you,” a voice sounded from behind you, scaring the three of you out of your laughter.
There was now a man behind the counter. He was of average height with dark skin, highlighted by bone-like markings across his face and chest. His playful purple eyes scanned the three of you as if he were sizing you up – he likely was. He was wearing a lot of magenta, from his vest to his little top hat, matching the vibe of the shop. He was the most interestingly dressed man you’d ever seen.
It took you a moment to react to what he said, and when you did you scrambled to put the staff back. Ace and Deuce also quickly straighten themselves out. Seems the three of you got the same intimidating vibe from this guy.
“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said lightly, “you did look good with the staff.”
You chuckled awkwardly, fiddling with your fingers, “I appreciate it, sir.”
“No need for such formalities, you can call me Mr. S,” he said boisterously, “here at my mystery shop I sell anything and everything magical. What can I help you find?”
You stared at him like an idiot for a long moment, blinking as if you were waiting for him to read your mind. You might’ve been convinced that he could if you were less educated. You quickly composed yourself, clearing your throat, and walking forward to meet him at the same level.
“I was looking for books,” you said.
“I have plenty of books, you’ll have to be more specific.”
“Ah– Uhm, books on magical creatures, to be specific.”
“Such as Fae?”
“More… obscure. I’m looking into more…” you lean in, whispering as if it would get you in trouble. “dangerous creatures… if that makes sense?”
He smiled, squinting his eyes and you and nodding along, “Oh yes, I see what you’re getting at. What dangerous creatures might you have in mind?”
You bite at your lip, you feel like a child, “Uhm… inky ones?”
You half expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t, instead, he smiles at you, “I see. I think I might be able to help you out.”
Quickly, he headed into the back of his shop. You share a look with your companions, and he’s back in only a short few moments. He urges the three of you closer, to which you comply, and sets a large tome on the counter. It was wrapped in brown leather with – what you assumed was – a magical rune on the front. On its back was a collection of words you had never studied before – magical spells you assumed. You went to open it, but Mr. S swiped it away.
“No previews, unfortunately.”
“How are we supposed to know you’re not cheating us,” Ace chimes in.
“You won’t,” he replied with confidence, “I cannot guarantee the objects aren’t cursed or enchanted, nor can I promise they’re safe to use. I can, however, say for certain I’ve never failed to give a customer what they want. ” 
He sends you a wink, and you don’t like how it makes you feel. Still, this is your only hope, and you don’t want to waste any opportunities. Before you can speak though, Deuce chimes in.
“What about those books on the shelves over there? They’re magical right, they should work just as well.”
The man hums, “Astute, but not quite. Those only contain the basic magical creatures, if you want to find what you’re looking for, this is the book for you.”
“Why? Is there a reason this particular creature wouldn’t be in other magical books?” You ask nervously.
‘Mr. S’ eyes you, smiling like you already know the answer, “His Majesty has made very sure this one is kept under wraps.”
You took a moment to think. This man could be scamming you, trying to get free and easy money… or he could be lying. You’d never know unless you bought the book, and you had no budget to worry about, being the princess. 
“Alright, we’ll take the book. How much.”
“Smart,” he practically purrs, “hundred-thousand thuramarks.” 
“What,” Ace and Deuce shouted, clearly appalled.
You, however, ignored them and pulled out your little wallet from your bag. You counted out the money and realized that you could only give him more or less, and you doubted this man would want to give you change.
“I have one-fifty, would that suffice?”
“More than enough,” he says, taking the money greedily, “I’ll give you the little staff you were looking at earlier for that price.”
You hesitated… it would be hard to hide getting into the castle… but you did like the way it felt in your hands. Besides, you didn’t want to spend so much and walk away with only the book.
“Deal,” you glanced over at the wall of magical pens, “aren’t those illegal, though?”
He grinned, counting up the bills you gave him, “Nothing in my shop is illegal to buy.”
“Clever business you’ve got here,” you compliment.
“Must be, to attract the princess.”
You flush, “Is it obvious?”
“Only up close,” he assures, smirking.
You took the book, and shoved it in your bag, giving the shopkeep your thanks. Ace plucked the staff off the wall as he passed, waggling it around playfully. Deuce slapped his hand, and he scowled, smacking him back. You had to dodge several of their attacks, caught in the crossfire.
As the three of you opened the door, the shopkeeper called out to you, “Princess, do be careful. Some things are hidden from us for a reason.”
You give him a nervous nod, and the door shuts behind you.
·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·
The three of you step into the alleyway, and Ace is immediately upon you, trying to pull the book out of the bag. You grab the staff out of his hand and give him a harsh smack on the head with it, pulling your cloak down for a moment as he backs off. Deuce gives him another firm slap on the other side of his head, and you laugh at the groan that leaves Ace’s mouth.
“What was that for?” He whines, rubbing at both sides of his head.
“Being an idiot,” Deuce says plainly, earning another laugh from you.
“Okay, let's take a look at this thing,” you announce, pulling the book out, “to make sure we weren’t scammed, at least. We can read more when we get back to the castle.”
The two of them nod, huddling around your cloaked figure to get a good look. The book was old, pages yellowed and wrinkled with years of use and damage. The leather cover was rough and peeling apart, but the sigil on the front was still proudly shining in gold. You could feel where you held it from the back that there were other sigils stamped into the leather. Your fingers tingle as you run your fingers over its front – a ticklish sensation that is oddly pleasant.
With one last big breath, you flip the cover open and decide to thumb through the pages. True to his word, this seemingly was the book you wanted, each page detailing a different magical beast – some more ferocious than others – until you come across the exact monster you’ve been looking for. You freeze, as does Deuce.
Ace points at the page, “This is it?”
You nod.
“You… saw that thing? In the forest?” He asks again.
You swallow hard and nod, “Yes, it… it was a bit different, but the same general look.”
“Phantoms, also known as Blot Monsters,” Deuce read aloud, “the remnants of overzealous magicians.”
Just like the mysterious man had told you. You weren’t crazy! It was real… you let out a sigh, and Ace brought a hand up to pat your back.
“Sorry for doubting you,” he apologizes, sincerely.
You shake your head, hands trembling as you close the book. You couldn’t look at it any longer for fear of your head exploding.
“I would’ve doubted myself a few weeks ago, I can’t blame you.” You forgive with a little smile, “Now, let’s head back to the castle so we can read this in private.”
·┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆·
The three of you now sat in your room, the book sat on the little tea table in front of you. You would’ve taken the library, as usual, but that felt too risky. So, you settled on your private quarters. You’d set your new staff on the bed for now, opting to deal with hiding it later.
The book itself was settled in the middle of the table, open to the correct page, the three of you just staring at it stupidly. The book hardly had any more information on the creature than what you knew. ‘Remnants of the souls of magicians who overextended their magical capacity, only contained/killed with magic of a similar prowess.’ It was more of a confirmation of what you had assumed logically and only made you feel more nervous that there were surely more in the forest – near your people, and your brother must know about it.
“What now,” Deuce poses.
You bite at your lip, “I don’t know… we can’t tell Vil.”
The two of them shared a look that you did not see. Your fingers slid over the ink on the page, feeling an odd tingle as you did so. Ace’s hand came to rest on your shoulder and Deuce’s on the other. 
“We’ll figure something out, Your Majesty,” Deuce assured, squeezing your shoulder.
Ace doesn’t say anything for a long moment, glaring hard at the page, “Maybe… Riddle knows something about this?” He says tentatively.
You glance up at him, then return to the page, “Why do you think that?”
He hesitates, “I mean, he is a practiced magician, he’s been learning since he was a baby and he knows his stuff.”
You nod, well aware of the fact. Not practicing magic was more strange than practicing it – at least in other kingdoms. Rosehearts was renowned as a magician, and your brother openly detested the fact (the hypocrite he was, as you’ve come to learn). Still… your interaction with Leona a few days ago was fresh in your mind.
“He may not believe it's real – Leona didn’t, and he’s far more practiced than Rosehearts is. No offense to him.” You argue.
‘“It’s always worth trying,” Deuce chimes in, “and… if he doesn’t… well maybe you can show him this? He’s not the type to just laugh in someone's face like Prince Leona is.”
“If he does, though, I’ll defend your honor,” Ace jokes, flexing his arm playfully.
You laugh, shaking your head at his antics, “You both raise very good points… Perhaps I will bring it up to him. It’s an excuse to ask about those horse riding lessons he offered me as well.”
They shared a high-five over your head, and you pointedly ignored it despite how loud it sounded through your room. You looked back at the book, a conflicted frown growing on your face, before turning to your friends with a sad smile. Even if things were bleak, you still had options and people supporting you. That was all you needed. 
“Thank you,” you said quietly, “I appreciate it, truly. Could you… give me a moment alone, though. I just need to think.”
The two of them nodded, Deuce giving you one last squeeze before they left – likely to redress in their uniforms before Rosehearts found them. You let out a long sigh, moving to your bed so you could lie down and feel useless more comfortably. The staff sat where you left it, the green gem sparkling in the light of the setting sun. 
You’d accepted the staff without a second thought but now realized that it was a waste. You couldn’t do magic, let alone use such a pretty staff for it. It was just… a waste. Much of what you’d been doing felt like a waste. Everything led to dead ends and nothing was moving you forward, you couldn’t help your disappointment.
As you observed the staff closer, you realized it was familiar in some ways. The color and the style reminded you of something you’d seen a long time ago when you were still just a little girl. You smiled as you remembered your mother had one just like this. It was her pride and joy, and she would take it everywhere. 
How you missed her. If she were here with you, she would know just what to do to make everything alright. She would take you up in her arms and swaddle you in the thickest, fluffiest blanket she could find in the castle and read all those fairy tales you used to love. You wondered if you still had them. After she passed she gave all of her books to you, but looking at them was too painful so you stuffed them away in your closet.
You wondered listlessly if she would be proud of you for doing what you could with what you had. All the castle staff told you stories of how she was a free spirit. She would rebel against her family's wishes as a young peasant girl, which is how she caught your father's eye in the first place. She was incredibly smart too, and you knew she used to be the head of magic research until your brother “shut it down”.
Everyone said you were just like her – same passion and rebellious spirit, always breaking the rules and doing what you liked. You didn’t think so, though. Sure, you went against your brother's wishes sometimes, but you rarely did anything daring until recently. You were weak-willed, and you hardly had half the power and influence she had.
You rolled onto your side, deciding you’d like to look out into your beloved forest as you moped. It used to bring you comfort, but now all you felt was apprehension. The monster you saw was gone, sure, but the fact that it existed was enough to scare the life out of you. Because if it could exist once, it means that it could exist again. It means it could exist now and that your people could be in danger and you were wholly useless up in your room.
“How pathetic,” you murmured, glaring at the tops of the trees.
As you lay there, something… peculiar catches your ear. Rustling, just below your window. You ignore it, in favor of closing your eyes, but a rhythmic tapping comes from your window. You ignore it for as long as you can before it annoys you too much and you open your eyes to glare at what you assumed would’ve been an offending tree branch.
What you actually see, is a man – a human being, perched gracefully on the sill of your window. In your shock, you nearly scream, until your brain connects and recalls just who it is sitting there, and suddenly you’re grinning. He smiles back at you, charming as ever, and points at your lock.
You stare dumbly for another long few moments, then scramble to open the window for him. He steps in, still wearing that mischievous smile, and takes in your room. You are now far too aware of the stuffed animal collection you’ve kept in the corner since you were ten, as well as the mess your bed is – having rolled around in it miserably just before he came.
If he notices, he does not show it, smiling as he speaks, “Charming, much like the owner.”
In all your stunned idiocy, all you can manage to get out is, “You’re back!?”
He turns to you, placing a gentle hand on your head and ruffling your already messy hair, “I told you I would be, ma belle.”
You nod at him, face far too red. You scolded yourself for reading so many romance novels as a child. This situation should be anything but romantic in your mind. Still, the way his green eyes practically drink you in makes you weak in the knees and– -sevens, what is wrong with you?
You swallow, trying to appear half presentable, “For your hat, yes?”
He grins, and you swear you melt into a flustered puddle right there, “You took good care of it?”
You nod, swiftly moving to pick it up from your vanity, happy to do anything other than stare into his eyes right now. You offer it up to him, and he takes it, affixing it to his head. He looks complete with it on, you think, liking it better on him than yourself. His eyes catch on something behind you, and you follow his gaze to the book – still opened to the page of the Phantom.
He smiles at you, again, “Curious?”
You shake your head, “Worried…”
He hums, moving over to the table to get a better look at the page. His eyes scan over the words, and you decide he looks more handsome when he’s thinking. You feel a bit uncomfortable in the silence, so you decide to fill it.
“I figured I wouldn’t be seeing you any time soon, so I had to find answers to my questions myself,” you explain, “it… wasn’t all that helpful, but I feel a little better about things.”
He nods, turning his gaze back to you, and you wish he hadn’t, “I don’t know any more than what’s written on this page…” He admits with a regretful frown.
You mirror it, “What do you mean? You seemed… knowledgeable when we met.”
He shakes his head, “I wish I was. I’m only a monster hunter for hire, ma belle. I know how to kill them, and that’s all.”
You sigh, head falling in defeat. There goes your biggest lead. Sevens, this was more and more impossible every day that passed. You had no magic, no help, no… no anything! The longer this stretched on the more angry you got with yourself.
Gentle fingers tucked themselves beneath your chin, pulling your head up to kind green eyes, “Ne t’en fais pas. Even though we know little, we can still do much.”
You frown, “...How?”
He smiles, rubbing his thumb over your chin, “We know how to defeat them, do we not? So long as we have that, we can keep them at bay.”
You bite at your lip, suddenly shameful, “I can’t use magic. Well– I don’t know how to.”
If he is surprised, he does not show it, patting you on the head kindly, “Well, I’ll just have to teach you then.”
It’s such a simple statement, leaving no room for argument. You don’t know why it affects you so much – perhaps because you are so very stressed – but you begin to cry before you can realize what’s going on. The tears fall in rapid succession, your hands unable to wipe at them fast enough. You hadn’t cried since the night all of this began, it was… cathartic. Despite everything, all the responsibility and stress and secrets, you could still cry.
The handsome huntsman takes you into his arms, smoothing your messy hair down with gentle pets. You cry hard into his chest, and he does not bother you with any useless dialogue. Simply holding you and caring for you, like you are just as human as he is.
When you are all cried out, he carefully brings you back to your bed and sits next to you – hand holding yours reassuringly. When you look at him, you want to speak his name, and it hits you all at once that he is still entirely a stranger to you. A kind one, at that, but a stranger.
As if reading your mind, he squeezes your hand, “I am Rook Hunt, the Huntsman.”
You smile, repeating the name – it feels like golden honey on your tongue. “Rook Hunt,” you laugh, “how fitting, much nicer than Schoenheit.”
“Schoenheit is more romantic,” he responds, “better suited for a face like yours.”
“I should not trust you, not enough to cry in your arms, at least.” You say simply.
“Am I not trustworthy?” He laughs.
“You shouldn’t be… but you did save my life, for what it’s worth…”
“And I came back.”
“That you did, but I still can’t quite understand why.” You wonder aloud, “What is your motivation?”
“For coming back?”
“For helping.” you correct, then add, “Also, for coming back – for making an excuse to come back.”
He seems to ponder it, and again you think he is handsome as he thinks. Brows furrowed, eyes glinting – he nibbles at his lip as well, and you shamelessly wonder how they may feel on yours before you banish the thought. (As a princess, you should have better control around strange men you find in forests, no matter how handsome they are). Then he turns to you, eyes bright, and smiles wide.
“It’s simple. I’ve found myself enthralled by you and your beauty,” he declares, “I wanted a chance to admire it further.”
You flush. Sevens, this man was odd, but he was genuine. Perhaps that’s what drew you to him – it was an honesty you had rarely experienced. The only time you could recall such simple, honest admissions was when talking to the children in the village – all far too young to understand how to hold their tongue and lie to save face. 
“Thank you,” you respond with a smile, “you are very… honest. I appreciate it.”
He grins, wiggling about like a proud cat, “Honesty is important to my family – we are not liars.”
“That’s charming,” you giggle, “If I could ask you to be honest with me, still. Just one last question.”
He nods, straightening himself out a bit, trying and failing to look serious in your eyes.
“Why are you here?” You ask, and then quickly clarify when he looks confused, “I mean, in my kingdom. You are not from around here, I can tell from your clothing.”
He nods in understanding, then answers, “I was hired to kill the phantoms crawling around the area.”
You frown. ‘Phantoms’, plural. There were more.
“Have you… been successful,” you ask, hesitant to hear the answer.
He senses your unease, and squeezes your hand – you’d forgotten he was holding it, “I’ve taken care of two since our meeting, but there are still many more that need dealing with.”
You clasp a hand over your mouth, stress clawing up your shoulders like a ferocious beast, “How many more? Why haven’t you been able to deal with all of them?”
“Ne t’en fais pas,” he repeats from earlier – French, which was only spoken in sparse parts of the world that you knew, “As of now they hold no threat to your people. They are almost all contained within the forest, deeper than the hunters go.”
“Why haven’t they been dealt with…?” You ask again.
“They are… insaisissable, elusive despite their size. Hunting them is difficult, even for someone like me,” he answers, “I would not allow any harm to come to your people, I promise you.”
You nod in understanding, still tense, but put at ease by his reassurance. You saw him in action, you know that he is capable and talented. If he was in charge of putting these things to sleep, then you would trust that it was handled, for now at least. Still…
“I wish I could use magic, then I could deal with the issue myself,” you say, frustration ringing through your voice.
“I was not joking, earlier,” he responds, smiling as always, “I will teach you magic if you will let me?”
You stare at him blankly. Sure, he did offer earlier, but you didn’t expect him to be serious. Teaching someone to use magic was not an easy task. Learning magic wasn’t an easy task. He says it with such confidence, such assurance, that you feel compelled to believe that he would find the task simple in and of itself.
“Where would we even go?” you ask, “My brother would never allow me.”
He smirks, winking at you, “Two days, midnight, meet me just outside the castle walls – near the forest’s entrance. Bring your staff.”
You nod stupidly at him as he stands, raising your hand to his lips in another gentle kiss. Sevens, you were helpless to his charm, weren’t you? He practically floats across the room to your window, and you stare at him with your mouth agape the whole time. As he hops up on the ledge, he turns back to you with a playful smile.
“I will see you there?” he asks.
Still dumbfounded, you nod, “O-of course. Two days, midnight.”
“Au revoir, ma belle.” he purrs, and then he is gone from sight.
You stay seated on the bed, clutching tightly at the hem of your dress. Your staff may not be nearly as useless as you thought. You laugh. Sevens, what a day you’ve had.
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lostgracestories · 2 months ago
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hello it's your causal varré enjoyer WOWZA YOUVE BEEN BUSY, thanks for all the food, love! could I request some hc's for how our favourite (touch-starved) surgeon would be in a relationship? imma go read all your new stuff now lol
YESS It's such a good form of busy though <3 I LOVE writing so much and y'all are fueling me THANK YOU
ANYWAYS I have absolutely GOT YOU (I just finished 3 assignments for college and I'm juiced up on monster so ENJOY)
wc: 450 tw: uh, Varre's face spoiler (he's actually so handsome i can't), blood obv, Varre's kinda a pervert but that's typical. Lowkey minor bloodplay mention. It's Varre come on now you know he likes it
Bleeding Heart
He is such an asshole and he sucks at complimenting his lover. At least in the first couple months. It's a bit of a toxic relationship to start off (It's Elden Ring what did you expect?)
As time goes on, he gets used to you (for lack of a better word) you can't help but wonder how he's staring at you under his mask when he steals lingering glances... but he knows what he's thinking.
Although he cares for you (this asshole is too stuck up to admit he loves you) he rarely ever tells you he loves you. It's always just; "I love you, Varre" "Aye" "...You're not gonna say it back?" And then he'll just stare at you like you're crazy.
Did I mention that he's 100% a thigh kinda guy? And it has to do with his gross obsession with blood (much like his luminary) like he's totally imagining kissing over your femoral artery and how pretty your blood would be (pervert)
When he does tell you he loves you it always catches you off guard, and he revels in the reaction you give as if you're braindead. "Lambkin..." "Yes, Varre?" "I love you, I have only room for you in my heart"
Oh, and you're the only one he ever shows his face too. It took a LOT of convincing. When he removed it for the first time it was safe to say that you were thoroughly shocked at the appearance of smoothed back BROWN hair and STUBBLE (this is canon I'm not joking, someone restored his design) the shocked gasp you had let escape had resulted in him nearly immediately pulling his mask back on, but you had stopped him.
He LOVES physical intimacy but is, again, too stuck up to admit it. He will usually only indulge himself if you initiate it. HOWEVER, on occasion, he will lift his mask just enough to kiss you. He loved watching the blood rise to your cheeks as you buried your face into his chest to hide from him.
Did I mention that he loves to lightly drag his fingers up your side when you walk next to him in public? He loves watching the shiver it drives out of you as you pinch him to quell his teasing. It only ever makes it worse though.
Oh GOD and he loves when you come to him for injuries. That pretty crimson that coats you after you fight drives him insane. Yet, no matter how pretty he found it, he always soothed you as he tended to your injuries, angrily running through his thoughts that he should be the one to make you bleed... and not like this.
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jq37 · 3 months ago
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Descendants: The Rise of Red is kind of a bizarre movie to talk about critically because, imo, it almost doesn't make sense to talk about it in the usual terms of good vs bad or enjoyable vs not enjoyable when the way more obvious tension is finished vs unfinished.
Because, more than any other movie I've ever seen, it does *not* read as a full movie. And I don't mean in a "this movie has a cliffhanger" kind of way. The Empire Strikes Back and Across the Spiderverse fit that description. They end on big dramatic cliffhangers that point to a resolution in the third installment.
But Rise of Red just sets all this stuff up and then...ends without concluding anything. It doesn't feel like the first movie in a trilogy (or duology). It feels like the first act of a two-act musical. It very specifically reminds me of the end of the first act of Into the Woods where all the main characters sing the song Ever After about how they all fixed their problems with magic and nothing bad will ever happen to them again and then the narrator ominously says "To be continued" before the curtain drops. But in Into the Woods you know there's a second act and this movie wasn't sold as the first act of a bigger story. Like sure, it has the, "You didn't think this was the end" tag at the end like all the other movies, but those movies were complete, self-contained stories even though they had sequels. This was NOT a full story. It's half of one story.
Like, if we're supposed to take this as a full story, there are so many bizarre choices:
Why did they make sure to mention that Cinderella and Charming fell in love at the ball at the top if it wasn't meant to set up Back to the Future style, "Oh no, I accidentally got my mom banned from the ball so she's not gonna fall in love with Dad and I won't be born" shenanigans?
Why did Maddox very pointedly have that bit about "you could lose your mom completely" if that was never going to come into play? Red never did anything to endanger Bridget or endanger her own birth so it doesn't make sense as a warning in that way.
Why was there all this focus on this Carrie on prom night moment for Bridget if we LITERALLY NEVER SAW CASTLECOMING? Why dance around this moment and talk about it all cloak and dagger with no specificity if they weren't building up to some big reveal that it wasn't as straightforward as it seemed? And like, they leaned in HARD with making Bridget the nicest, sweetest, cotton candy princess as a teen so I need WAY more than, "She got pranked by known bullies she's been enduring with a smile very handily up to this point" to buy that she went from that to "murderous dictator". And even if she did become murderous, I find it insanely hard to believe that she'd include her best and only friend on the list of people she wants to suffer unless there was a betrayal. I find it INSANE that there wasn't a falling out scene at any point in this movie with how thickly they were laying on the admiration and camaraderie.
(Note: And adult Cinderella def has guilty vibes re: the Queen at orientation. Which I know I'm not imagining because it's literally spelled out in the Jr Novelization!)
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Before the time travel element of the movie started, I thought they were going for something like they go to the past and realize that Bridget was bullied not by the VKs but by the spoiled royals, and Ella ends up joining in the bullying once she gets with Charming, betraying Bridget and justifying her whole "Love Ain't It" philosophy. Or Ella ditching her at the last minute to be with Charming meaning she has to deal with the monster prank alone and it was the being alone rather than the prank itself that hurt her (though that is NOT a good enough reason to go all off with their heads on your subjects). The fact that, as far as we know right now, it literally was just a relatively mild and reversible prank that caused all of this is just, such flat storytelling, you know?
But! All of this makes way more sense if this is meant to be the first act of a single contained story. And I don't wanna be all "Pepe Silvia, secret good 4th episode of Sherlock" about this but I did see this picture:
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Which seems to indicate that this was written as a Part One. Which, if so, idk why they wouldn't advertise it that way but whatever. The point is, if that's the case then it means that we're potentially in bad pacing territory rather than straight up bad storytelling territory. Because this isn't a bad place to be halfway through your story:
The heroes, warned that time travel is dangerous, have gone back in time to change the heart of a brutal tyrant before she can stage a coup. They seemingly succeed in their mission and when they come home, everything is great! But then, the side effects of time travel start to catch up with them. Chloe realizes that, in breaking the vase, she prevented her mother from going to the ball and falling in love with her dad (who was conspicuously absent from the final scene btw) which means she's starting to be forgotten and erased from the timeline. And Red realizes that though this new version of her mom is as sweet and kind as the teen she once met, she's a complete stranger to her (fulfilling the Hatter's warning that she could lose her mom completely). So they have to go back in time once more to make sure the Ella and Charming fall in love again, perhaps at the cost of whatever bad thing that happened to Bridget happening again and bringing back the original version of her future self. But, now with more context of how her mom became that way, Red can now talk to her mother and persuade her to give people another chance.
Boom, that gives us time to go back and hit everything we haven't yet hit. We can pay off the time travel tropes that were set up but not explored. We can go to Castlecoming which feels so obviously set up to be the centerpiece of this story (like, come on, Back to the Future literally does the school dance thing. This is Time Travel Storytelling 101). We can actually get info about what the prank was and why it affected Bridget so completely.
(Note: This is a side thing but it really strikes me as so crazy that Bridget would so SUCH a big 180 here. Like, I know the Queen of Hearts is a silly, goofy, campy villain, but she straight up murders people and there's no way to get around that if we're taking her out of the surreal story she comes from and putting her in a (comparatively) grounded story. If I wasn't doing a betrayal plot, I would make the twist that the spell that turned Bridget into a "monster" didn't just have a physical effect, it had a mental effect and it magically twisted her personality to be the way it is now. So they broke the physical half of the curse, but neglected the other half and it's been festering the whole time, turning her as evil as she was sweet. Because like, a simple physical transformation isn't that big of a deal to have such heavy security--Bridget made cupcakes with a transformative effect and that was totally fine. I'm not saying that that's what's gonna be the case. I just think it would be an explanation that makes sense for why she changed so crazy much that makes more sense than a simple prank or even a betrayal. Her mom wasn't even evil! How did she go from zero to murder without even an evil mom to push her onto the path? But I'm super digressing right now.)
(Note #2: OK, one last thing. The trap on the book presumably would have hit the VK's and trapped them in Merlin's office regardless of what Chloe and Red did, right? That's like, net zero influence on the timeline. I genuinely can't tell if that's a straight up plot hole or set up to be like, "Oh no. Actually when she said that she was turned into a monster in front of everyone it was meant in a less literal way." Like she was just made to look bad and that was the real thing that pushed her over the edge. Like idk. It really feels like the only thing they really did that would change the timeline was get Ella banned from the dance and presumably out of the way where she couldn't hurt Bridget. OK NOW I'm done.)
Anyway, my point is that this is not how I would have structured my movie and I think this was a super weird way to go into the second era of Descendants movies, but they can still tell a complete story if that's their plan. I'm genuinely really curious to see if this pans out to be a fairly competently told story that just happens to be split over two movies or a complete fumbling of the narrative bag because it could really be either at this point and it's fascinating to me.
#rise of red#descendants#descendants rise of red#descendants the rise of red#i have never seen a dcom paced like this#uma DOES say that messing with time has consequences which gives me a glimmer of hope that they're going for a 'we have to go back' thing#but idk I've stopped assuming that writers know that they're doing#if I was ending this movie on this note here's how I'd do it#I'd have it end the same but when red and her mom are dancing I'd have one lingering shot of her being a little uneasy#and uncomfortable with this new version of her mom#and I would show chloe happily reuniting with her mom but then pan over to another part of the room and show that like#a portrait or s/t that had charming in it before now just has ella#or maybe something more subtle like something he placed on a table or something earlier in the movie isn't there anymore#just a little thing to be like 'don't worry we know what we're doing'#that would give me a lot more confidence#I was so sure that Chloe was gonna find Cinderella and she was gonna turn around and be like 'who are you?'#*that's* how you do a cliffhanger#and then in the next movie we could have had the tension of 'yeah we saved your mom from being evil but now mine doesn't know I exist'#listen there's a lot of ways they can handle this#they just need to pick literally any of them#last thing:#in the Jr. Novelization#the line is that the prank turned her into a *giant* during the dance#not a monster#i wonder if the giant prank was an 'eat me/drink me' wonderland ref before it was changed#also there is a world where they changed it from giant to monster bc they wanted to do s/t with the monster body/monster personality thing#but that is TOTALLY veering into pepe silvia/secret good episode or sherlock territory lmao#for the record I did not buy it I checked it out from the library#I'm not above buying jr novelizations (i happily own the disenchanted one)#but I'm not into descendants like that
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