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eff4freddie · 3 months

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After She Left | One

Joel Miller x AFAB Reader Ongoing

Words: 3k Two | Series Masterlist

Series Summary: You've lived in Jackson a long time, finding a sanctuary of comfort and predictability at the end of the world. As Jackson's only teacher, your role is to foster the curiosity of the youngest residents. Including the newest arrival, Ellie, and her weirdly cranky not-Dad, Joel. They threaten to upend your life more than any fungus. Series Warnings: slow burn, smut, Ellie being a little shit but we love her, friends to lovers, grief and loss, complicated feelings, canon-typical violence, Joel is a good dad, Joel has a complicated history, so do you Minors DNI 18+

Chapter warnings: Canon typical violence, reader is a little ambivalent about being alive, grief and loss, no Joel yet but he will make his appearance next chapter

You’d been 18 when the world ended. Surviving the first few days thanks entirely, as it turned out, to your baby sister’s gluten intolerance, you’d boarded the back of a military truck with a bag of your belongings and her little hand tucked into yours. You’d been separated from your parents, their truck ahead of yours, and when it veered off in the other direction on the highway you never saw them again. You heard rumours about what happened to the other trucks, and if you allowed yourself any time to consider them you knew in your gut they were true. You’d known the moment your mum and dad’s lives were snuffed out, because you’d felt it in your chest, miles and miles away. You didn’t burn candles for them on the windowsill in the hope that they would find their way back.

Old enough to get drafted into FEDRA, smart enough to stick around until the shit started hitting the fan, you kept your head down and your mouth shut and lasted years, until you were finding yourself lying more and more to your commanding officers just to keep yourself safe, to keep the people you cared tucked out of the watchful eye of your superiors. Until you were slipping scared families out the perimeter and wondering how long before you joined them.

Not long, as it turned out. You were 32 when the world ended, again. When your sister contracted something nasty, cut herself on a fence or stepped on a nail, the infection coursing red and angry up her veins towards her heart. There were no antibiotics, another shipment was due in a few weeks, but all of the higher ups were stockpiling, knowing that their time was limited, that eventually they would come to need the supplies to barter for their lives. You tried all your connections, you worked every rank you had to get her some, and when you failed you carried her into the bathtub and poured boiling water into the wound, her wasting body too exhausted to howl in agony at the burn. She died as you held her hand, stretched out on the bathroom floor beneath her. It was a mercy for her, you knew, and your penance for having propped up a cruel system, for having played a part in it at all.

You carried her body to the centre of the QZ, not letting her burn in the pyres built for the infected, not letting her mix in with the crawling vines. You laid her at the bottom of the steps to FEDRA HQ and left her there, the entire QZ peeking out from behind their curtains to witness her, a signpost at the edge of an impermeable, intractable border; who you had been, who you had become.

You were threatened with hanging, and you didn’t care. Your patrol partner packed your bag for you and smuggled you out, your QZ-issued rifle strapped to your back. You had left the QZ without even really knowing it, your partner hissing at you to just keep moving as he pulled back the barbed wire to let you through, and you did what you had been doing since you were drafted, which was just exactly what you were told.

You stumbled through the landscape, all amygdala and hind-brain, alone and unable to feel anything but the absence, but the loss. Knee-deep in a ravine you contemplated filling your bag with boulders and letting it pull you down into oblivion. You were never sure, even years later, why you didn’t. It scared you that there was something you couldn’t name, were never sure what it was such that you could ever rely on it to be there again.

You kept going. You were reasonable enough with your rifle, and you ate what you killed, and you stayed on the move. Headed west because you liked following the sun as it set, feeling like you were trudging towards an end of something. You passed camps, watching for the warm glow of fires or smoke on the horizon and heading in the other direction. You’d heard about raiders, about the weird religious cults that had set themselves up all over the country. As the trees thickened up, as the paths became more overgrown, you grew less and less cautious, began to feel like it was just you and the sky. You did well, considering you didn’t know why you were bothering, or where you were going. Some days you sat in the warmth of the sun and let it filter down to your bones. Some days you were so weary, so heavy, that you slumped against trees with your bag strapped to your chest and let your mind empty itself completely. You knew that if you pressed too hard and too long on a limb it would go numb.

Before the end of the world your family had gone camping every summer, and out here you felt more connected to them then you had in years. You couldn’t be sure how long you travelled, but you watched the leaves going brown and red on the canopy overhead. Your Dad had taught you enough to survive until the cold came, you realised. Your entire knowledge of the wilderness ending with the summer solstice. You had no plan to survive the winter, nothing other than a tarp you would string up between trees for shelter, a box of matches you fought tooth and nail to keep dry. You didn’t mind the idea of your story ending out here, found yourself ambivalent about it. If there was a place to wink out of existence it would be here, alone with the birdsong and the gradually freezing dirt beneath you. You had done well to last this long, had picked up more than you’d realised in your years with FEDRA, in the end of the world.

The nights though, were different. You found you could be philosophical about your impending death in the daylight, but as the nights grew colder and the chill got into your bones you were forced to consider the realities of this particular kind of end. You remembered reading about hypothermia in school, that people go mad from it, from the cold and the disorientation as their body temperature drops, as their muscles stop working. That they go delirious, suddenly feel like they’re burning up, strip off all their clothes and hasten their deaths. You didn’t particularly want to be found naked, didn’t particularly wanted to be found at all.

You started keeping the fire going in the darkness, knowing your Dad would admonish you if he was there, tempting fate and the lurking dangers right to your feet. It wasn’t like you had all that many alternatives. You hoped that when you saw him he would understand.

So it was on one particularly cold night, when the wind whipped the branches above you and rippled the long grass, that you were joined at your fireside. You had heard the rustle of the footsteps, had your rifle over your lap. You were eating the last of the rabbit you’d snared the day before. You wanted to go with a full belly, wanted the victory of at least not having starved.

‘You out here alone?’ the voice said from the darkness, and you raised your hands above your head.

‘Yes,’ you said, your voice rusted over from disuse.

‘You hurt?’ the man said, and you were surprised by this line of questioning.

‘No?’ you answered, peering into the darkness over the fire. You could see that he was holding a gun on you, that he was peering at you through its sight. You weren’t afraid of him. The fire was warm on your face.

‘You’re out here alone in the night and you’re not hurt?’ he answered, and you nodded. ‘Why you out here at all?’ he asked, and you sighed, dropping your hands to your sides.

‘That’s a long and boring story,’ you said, and you watched as he stepped forward, sensing you were neither a threat nor treating him as one.

‘That’s FEDRA issued,’ he said, gesturing to your rifle. You nodded. ‘Kansas?’

‘Chicago,’ you replied.

‘Heard things aren’t great in Kansas.’

‘As opposed to everywhere else’, you said. You saw him grin at you. As he came closer you could make out his black hair, his wiry frame. He looked tired and cold, but better fed then you. You might be able to outrun him, but not out-muscle him. Were you in any way inclined.

‘You’ve made it far,’ he said, and you shrugged.

‘Have I?’

‘Yes ma’am.’ You noticed his southern twang, and you liked it more than you expected. ‘Tommy,’ he said, pointing to his chest. He regarded you for a moment more. ‘If you’re lost in the darkness…?’ he asked, his eyebrows raised.

‘What?’ you asked, and he shrugged his shoulders.

‘Nothin’, he said. ‘Just…wondering.’

For a long moment you examined each other. He had an entire pack on his back, a rolled-up swag and a knife on his belt. He swung his gun over his shoulder, an older rifle, duct tape strapping it together in places. You looked down at yours in your lap. You wondered if he was out of bullets, too.

‘Mind if I sit?’ he asked, coming forward again, his hands in the air. ‘Just want to get warm, the cold is bitin’ tonight.’

You put your hands on the barrel of your rifle, and he watched them, gently. ‘Ain’t gonna hurt ya,’ he said, and you swallowed. Maybe you wanted him to. You weren’t sure anymore.

‘Haven’t really been around anyone for a while,’ you said, because you were starting to realise you were being awkward, had forgotten how to be a person when all you’d been doing for months was hanging out with trees.

‘You don’t wanna,’ he said, and you smiled.

‘You included?’ you asked.

‘Nah,’ he said, raising his palms to the fire. ‘M’alright. We all done things, I guess.’

You didn’t particularly want to think about those things. Truth be told you hadn’t actually done that much, had made a fucking terrible FEDRA soldier, kept trying to do community liaison and relationship building to the ire and suspicion of your commanding officers. You’d tried to argue that people would trust them more, that there would be better outcomes for everyone that way, that FEDRA had a duty, something something serve and protect.

They had told you, quite squarely, that no one gave a flying fuck about trust.

Which wasn’t to say you hadn’t been around death; you had, it was everywhere. You had witnessed hangings, had seen people beaten to death in the streets, never really knowing if it was at the hands of civilians. But you’d never been selected for the quarantine centre, rarely had to venture outside the gates to patrol. You’d been on cleanup, had been on curfew, had stood at the top of the gates and stared at the perimeter until your eyes watered. But you weren’t a killer, as much as your superiors wanted you to be. They couldn’t put you on the line where you might hesitate. For the longest time you had been ashamed of it, had considered it a weakness. Out here in the long grass you felt your 19-year-old self take you into her arms and forgive you for it.

‘Where you headed?’ he asked, and you shook your head.

‘Stayin’ put,’ you said.

‘Out here? There’s nothin’ out here.’

‘I’m here,’ you said, and you were feeling like you wouldn’t mind if he just left you to it, actually. Shot you and took your stuff. Whichever, just to get it done.

‘You know, there’s a group of people you might be interested to meet,’ he said, and you gawped at him.

‘What about me right now makes you think I want to meet anyone?’ you asked, and he chuckled.

‘People are trying to turn the tides, on FEDRA, on the whole…QZ situation. You have any…unrest back in Chicago?’

You had heard whispers of uprisings in other QZs, of little pockets of resistance. Things were going badly in some of them, Kansas having to get more brutal to keep things under control.

‘Nothing organised,’ you said.

‘Mmm. I came from Boston, things are getting…hotter out there. I’m on my way, actually, trying to-’

‘Don’t recruit me, don’t even bother,’ you said. ‘I’m not one for community life.’

Even as you said it you knew that wasn’t true. There had been families in the QZ, little kids born behind walls and not knowing any different, their laughter reminding you of when your sister was their age. You’d brought supplies for families struggling to get to the breadline, held the hands of scared women as their husbands were sent outside the walls on patrol. Had got a widow and her two kids smuggled out on a supply run, a ransom in ration cards to get them tucked safely in the back of a truck and carried over the threshold. You had always wanted to help people, and you’d done it, had been good at it. You considered the fact that all this time alone had made you drift further from your centre then you’d noticed at the time.

‘If it doesn’t work out,’ Tommy continued, ‘I heard of another place. Out in Wyoming. You could get there before winter.’

You gazed at him, your face aching from having talked so long to another person. You clicked your jaw.

‘Why you tellin’ me that?’ you asked. He leant over to his pack, pulling out a map and marking it with dirt under his nail.

‘You didn’t shoot me on sight,’ he said, and he grinned at you. ‘There’s still a bit of the South in me, darlin’, and where I come from, we don’t leave women alone in the night without a way home.’

You felt a little turn of something in your belly, a flickering. The way he spoke made you nostalgic for the old world, for the time when a sentence like that wasn’t either insane or suicidal. You waited for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh at you, for him to lash out. You took the map in your hands, felt the quiver in them, realised with considerable surprise you were nervous. Something, some feeling, was returning back to your aching limb.

It wasn’t that you had been a particularly strong student, back when schools were a thing. It wasn’t even that you really liked teaching, it was just that you quite liked kids, and the teenagers almost as much, and you liked to read and could kind of remember some chemistry, and you weren’t all that good on a horse. Barely in Jackson a week and you found yourself at the front of the all-ages classroom, trying to figure out how to explain the before times, trying not to wonder whether there was any point.

You’d made it just as winter set in, not really believing this little ramshackle town would exist even as you stepped through the gate. You could see that it had been a gated community in the before times, that work was going on to sure it up, to expand it. The original gates were being replaced and patrolled, and you offered to keep watch, the setting familiar to your time in the QZ. Maria, the daughter of the founder and chair of the Town Council, politely and kindly explained they didn’t let newbies protect the perimeter until they were proven. You understood what she was telling you. Until they were sure you wouldn’t go postal and mow them down in their beds.

You shared your first house with two other women, each of you having your own room. Maria had apologised, as if she hadn’t gifted you a chance at another life, and you almost laughed in her face. In the QZ you had shared a two-bedroom apartment with four other soldiers. This was an insane amount of space, of safety, enough that you felt lost in it, swamped by it, sleeping out on the couch some nights just to be closer to your roommates’ doors.

Maria promised more buildings were coming, and you could hear the sound of construction, of manual labour, every hour there was light. When you started at the school, you’d only had six students, total, but within a year you had eight. You moved into your own house, took shifts on the perimeter on nights when you weren’t teaching in the morning. You stayed close to your roommates, even as they all moved out on their own, ate in the mess hall and sometimes had a nip in the Tipsy Bison before bed. You waited, all that time, for the other shoe to drop, for the town council to turn despotic, for the peace to crack.

You celebrated your 34th birthday with a cake baked by your students, carefully avoiding the lumps of sloppily mixed batter in the pan. You felt yourself grow a little soft around your middle, watched the lines carve into the skin around your eyes. You met and grew bored with a couple of men around the place. Watched your best friend grow round with her baby, read books to her bump as she gave you shit for trying to teach a foetus.

You vouched for Tommy when he arrived, scraggly and worn and far less idealistic, making up a lie that you had heard of him from your time in the QZ, of the infamous best-shot-in-Boston, of the man with the perfect aim. You weren’t sure what it was that made it possible for him to stay; your outlandish tales, Maria’s instant attraction, or just the fact that he used to be a contractor before he was in the army, two facts you’d wished you’d known before you’d launched into an implausible and highly emotive treatise for him to stay. You had convinced no one, but Tommy had admired your attempt, and you’d let him crash in your spare bedroom until he got his own place. You watched the way Maria’s eyes followed him when he walked through town. It just so happened that he got his place faster than any other arrival you’d seen.

You had a couple more birthdays, watched the town grow to total self-sufficiency, to house an entire community. You watched the seasons turn from atop Jackson’s walls, your eyes trained on the horizon, thinking of how you were going to try and teach the periodic table in the morning. Thought back to the long grass and the tall trees, of a time when you were alone and travelling without a destination, of a time when you wanted to fade into the air around you, release your atoms back to the universe that created them.

You turned your face to the stars, crisp and clear in the night sky over Jackson. Informed your family they’d need to keep waiting, just a little while. Taglist (let me know if you'd like me to add you) @harriedandharassed

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #joel tlou

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whydon-twego · 1 year

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Soulmates AU, canon era

Arthur does not know what his soul mate does in life but of one thing he is certain: his soul mate suffers terribly.

In a world where you feel the pain -both physical and mental- of your soulmate, Arthur feels excruciating pain, so strong that he has never felt it even in battle and another thing is clear to him, his soulmate possesses magic. Arthur does not understand what is happening, he does not understand why the other person is in such terrible pain and what he is doing but he knows he is terribly worried because what would happen if his soulmate was in Morgana's ranks? On the other hand, Merlin knows that his soulmate is a knight of Camelot, one that Arthur always carries around with him, because every time they go out for a patrol and everyone passes out for some reason, Merlin has a terrible headache and some discomfort here and there due to a few knocks. He can't even consider the possibility that Arthur is his soul mate. On the one hand, he is worried about what Arthur might suffer every time Merlin is tortured and on the other hand, he knows perfectly well that Arthur feels nothing but friendship towards him.

The point is that this is absolutely not true. Arthur is in love with Merlin. Arthur is absolutely and terribly in love with Merlin but the very idea that Merlin could be his soul mate makes him cringe because that would mean that Merlin is suffering terribly, both physically and mentally and Arthur finds that intolerable, and to hell with magic! His soul mate is ending up in an increasingly dark place, where joy gives way to terrible thoughts and it is clear that his soul mate is lonely, sad, and powerless for some reason. Arthur would like to embrace them and never let them go.

One day like any other Arthur feels a terrible pain in his leg, almost that he cannot even walk, and Merlin brings him breakfast and Arthur notices that he is limping. "It's nothing, I twisted it coming down the stairs." But Merlin's face is strangely white and, now that Arthur pays attention to it, he looks in pain. Arthur begins to take more notice of his own pains and Merlin's attitudes, and the day Arthur feels a twinge in his chest so strong that it feels like he is dying and Merlin does not show up for work the next day, Arthur decides to take action and go to Merlin. Merlin cries in his arms for hours as he hugs him tightly and does not let go. Arthur swears to him that he will never be alone again.

#merthur #merthur prompt #merthur fanfic #merlin prompt #merlin fanfic #merthur canon era #merlin canon era #soulmates au #merthur soulmates #merlin soulmates #soulmates fanfic #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #my writing

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k-s-morgan · 8 months

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And the Living Will Envy the Dead: Snippet

This is a snippet from another scene taking place in the distant future from Tom's POV. And it's surprisingly fluffy))

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Impatience wrapped around his throat like an unyielding noose. At first, Tom kept adjusting his collar, wondering if Rosalia misstepped this time and selected something of the wrong size. As far as the design, the colours, and the material were concerned, however, this outfit was a favourite, and wearing anything else was out of question when Harry was supposed to return at last.

Three months, and not even in Britain — in Germany. Unacceptably, intolerably far.

If it wasn’t for Harry’s ridiculous rule of no contact during recruitment, their separation wouldn’t have to be this lengthy. Tom had agreed to it as a display of courtesy, but after the endless bleakness of the last twelve weeks, things would have to change. Principles meant nothing when they caused more inconveniences than they brought benefits.

The loosening of the collar did not bring the anticipated relief, so eventually, Tom was forced to concur that the problem had taken root in his head. And the name of this problem had five misleadingly insignificant letters in it.

Irritation began to sizzle, making it impossible for him to keep sitting. Tom stood up and checked the clock; then he conjured the time by himself, harbouring the irrational hope that his clock was broken. The smoky numbers remained unchanged, and he waved them away, his jaw tightening with annoyance.

Harry was supposed to be here ninety-three minutes ago. How long could it take someone to Apparate, even if they were abysmal at it?

Waiting was all he could do. His mind understood it, and just as equally, it rejected it. Measuring his reflection with one final look, Tom left the room and walked downstairs, to the headquarters. Rosalia, Cadmus, and Augustus were inside, locked into a conversation he had no interest in, at least not at the moment.

“Is he back yet?” Tom asked, ignoring the way the three of them instantly stood up. It was an entirely redundant question — if Harry returned, he would have never set foot inside Tom’s headquarters. Another rule that made no sense, but then Harry frequently didn’t. Still, he had to ask. To indulge the restless part of him that was willing to shred his skin and escape it to seek Harry out on its own.

A layered silence answered his inquiry. Tom’s eyes narrowed, and Cadmus hastened to clear his throat.

“He isn’t, my lord,” he uttered. “Not that we know of.”

“Inform me if you see him.”

He turned to leave, but in that very moment, Rosalia’s magic made a desperate lunge for him. It was harmless, just a greedy uncontrolled attempt to hold onto him, but Tom’s already dark mood plummeted further down. Disgust buzzed under his skin, and his magic rose up in one crushing wave, disintegrating Rosalia’s energy into the tiniest particles, rendering them even more useless.

A pained gasp broke the silence. Everyone else froze. Slowly, Tom turned to face them again, his stare stopping at Rosalia.

“And what was that supposed to be?” he asked. “Are you a dog in heat? Has the word ‘self-control’ escaped your dictionary entirely this time?”

Rosalia flushed. With her red face and blond curls, she reminded Tom of Harry’s revolting cousin, and his fingers itched with the need to invoke some graver magic.

“I— apologise,” she stammered. Her wavering voice made her sound like an even more pitiful version of herself, and Tom inhaled slowly, willing himself to be patient. Alienating Harry after their separation was not a good idea — although this was Rosalia, so perhaps Harry wouldn’t mind. “I just wanted to urge you to consider changing the entrance wards. It’s not right that he can walk inside whenever he feels like it. I know about your… arrangement… but there is no need to grant him free access. He could ask for permission when he wants to visit and we would—”

“He has my permission,” Tom interrupted her. The darkness of his voice instantly shut her up. “For today. For the next week. For a decade from now. He will never have to ask for it because he has it indefinitely. Is that clear enough to you?”

Rosalia nodded, dropping her head — alas, too late. Frustration that had been gnawing on Tom was beginning to zero in on her, blinding him to anything but the sudden craving for her screams. The cloud of violence descended, and this time, he didn’t want to fight it.

He needed a distraction. This one was as good as any.

The first vibrations of magic trembled through his body, filling his blood with power, power, more power — the power that would need an outlet. That would remind Rosalia of where her place was and what matters she was allowed to discuss — and which ones she should never open her mouth to comment on.

His wand slipped into his hand, the power purring at the sight of horror that twisted Rosalia’s and Cadmus’ faces. Only Augustus remained impassive, although he lowered his eyes as well, his shoulders drooping submissively.

A hundred different words danced on the tip of his tongue. The energy poured into every cell of his, bursting with the need to be directed, and Tom was about to oblige when a subtle breeze shot through the wards.

It could be nothing. It could be an actual breeze slipping through one of the open windows, but he knew, he knew there was more to it.

Harry was back.

A shudder of want thundered through him. Excitement and anticipation pushed out every previous emotion from his mind, and it took an impossible effort to keep himself still instead of Apparating in the direction from which he sensed Harry’s presence.

“Augustus,” he barked, “remind Rosalia of the scope of her responsibilities. After your lesson, I expect that she will keep her mouth shut on the matters that don’t concern her.”

From the corner of his eye, he noticed reluctance sliding over Augustus’ face. This was surprising — Augustus had always been the most eager to punish the other followers, but right now, Tom didn’t have time to ponder on it. Without saying another word, he Apparated into his office, and his heart did its usual little stumbling when his eyes stopped at Harry.

Tom’s sudden appearance must have startled him because Harry jumped, dropping the metal statue of the snake he was holding. It landed on his foot, and he jumped again, this time looking even more alarmed.

How such a stunning duellist and a brilliant Quidditch player could be so clumsy was a mystery Tom hadn’t solved yet. Affection bloomed in his chest, a seed that instantly bore its fruits — a split of a second, and the fire of it consumed him entirely.

“Hey,” Harry said, an awkward smile lighting up his face. “That’s one ugly snake. Where did you—”

Tom didn’t let him finish. He eliminated the grating distance between them in two large steps, grabbed Harry by his waist, and kissed him, swallowing the words that were about to be said, not allowing him a moment to draw in another breath. He kissed him, and his world exploded with the half-forgotten brightness again.

#my fics #tomarry #harry potter #tom riddle #atlwetd #snippet

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astarionmademewriteit · 10 months

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My Fallen Angel (Part Two of Mission: Chaos)

Astarion (Unascended) x f!Reader/Tav

Rating: Explicit

MDNI 18+ Only. Blank bios will be blocked.

Wordcount: 3.7k

Tags: Smut; PIV sex; Fingering; Blood drinking; Painful puns; Maybe a little fluff.

Summary: After completing the mission, Astarion and Tav takes some much needed time to themselves.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵

Astarion and I flit through the streets, stopping every so often to press the other against a building wall–interlocking our lips as if we are addicted to each other's affections. In a way, we are.

The events that transpired earlier tonight ignited our passions–our unwillingness to keep our hands off one another is palpable. I would gladly watch Astarion level every building in Baldur's Gate if it brought him this much happiness–this much exultation.

By now, civilians have been pulled from the comforts of their homes, and drunk patrons have abandoned their cups so that they might get a better look at the commotion outside. The hungry conflagration where the stronghold once stood feeds on the rubble, debris, and the bodies of dead Absolutists. It is as if we had raised the very hells.

“Gale will have some choice words for us,” I giggle, trying to conjure images of our companions reacting to the building going up in flames.

“Let him,” Astarion chides, “What's done is done.”

We part through the swelling crowd, maneuvering around curious gazes and low murmurs. Every so often he and I would pickpocket the oblivious and cast each other knowing glances when we found something worthwhile. Just ahead, Elfsong Tavern buzzes with music and delight.

I turn to Astarion, “What about a celebratory drink? We can toast to the pile of corpses you made short work of.” I cock an eyebrow at him, excited at the prospect.

“Darling, the longer you keep me from camp and that delicious body of yours, the more you just delay the inevitable,” his amused expression tells me he is considering it regardless of how impatient he might be feeling.

“Come on, it will be fun,” I whine, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the tavern.

He huffs playfully behind me, “Honestly dear, there are far finer establishments than this, but if you insist.” It is obvious he's just as excited as I, even if he would never admit it.

We enter the bustling tavern, patrons dancing merrily while others ponder over the explosion that rocked the city. I order a carafe of wine for the table and Astarion and I sink into a booth in the corner of the shoddy establishment. Astarion pulls me into his lap, and I welcome the closeness of our bodies as I pour us a drink.

“Honestly darling,” Astarion murmurs, “Do you expect me to drink this intolerable swill?” He turns his nose up at the cup, clearly above the substandard spirit. He pushes my long hair to the side, exposing my neck. He drags his nose along the column of my throat, “Especially, when I could be dining on the finest vintage in Baldur’s Gate,” he inhales my aroma, reveling in the way I smell, “I do have exclusive access to the greatest drink in Faerun,” he purrs.

I giggle girlishly, delighted in the way he craves me and only me, “All in due time, my love,” I whisper, leaning my back against his chest and allowing him to wrap his arms around my waist, “At least toast with me,” I turn my head and kiss him softly on the cheek.

“If you insist," Astarion leans forward and grabs the cup of wine and lifts it in the air, “To my little treat and the chaos she wreaks,” He pauses, carefully finding his next words–his expression turning serious, “After spending what felt like an eternity reliving an agonizing death over and over again, you came along and woke my beating heart–you taught me to live again. Thank you,” He bows his head in gratitude.

I drop my cup on the table, my heart warming at his words. I twist my body to press a kiss to his lips. My hand cups the side of his face with a tender touch.

After a moment, he pulls away, an amused grin on his face, “I don’t think you understand how toasts work, my dear. But admittedly, I like your way better.”

I smile softly before raising my own glass, “My love, you paint an aspiring portrait of our love. It is nothing short of a masterpiece,” I clink my glass to his, “To us.”

He nods in agreement and takes a sip of his wine against his better judgment. His nose scrunches up at the taste and he sticks his tongue out in disgust. I down my glass and giggle at his expression.

Before I could properly finish the carafe of wine, Astarion flung a few gold pieces on the table and scooped me up in his arms.

We are already headed towards the door, “Astarion! My wiiine,” I pout.

“How you managed to swallow that garbage is preposterous. You are too good for that place, my dear,” his arms tighten around me as we make our way out of the Lower City, “In any case, there's only one thing you'll be getting drunk on tonight,” he lightly spanks my ass eliciting a yelp from my mouth.

The camp is well within sight before Astarion decides to let me walk on my own two feet. The companions ran up to us, worry streaked across their faces.

“What in the bloody hells happened out there, we saw an explosion and and–" Karlach is on us in an instant crushing me into a tight hug, “I thought something horrible had happened.”

“To the cultists, maybe” Astarion says with an air of nonchalance.

Lae'zel fold her arms across her chest, “Leave it to these two to cause pandamonium.”

“We're fine Karla–wait… did you say pandamonium Lae'zel?” I snicker. She consistently fumbled her words and Astarion and I loved to give her hell for it–against our better judgment at times.

“What of it?” she asks, narrowing her eyes.

Astarion cuts in, trying to contain his laughter, “Oh Lae'zel don't think in such black and white terms.”

Lae'zel eyes us with disdain and I clasp a hand over my mouth trying not to laugh, “Astarion my love, do try to be less unbearable, will you?” I say through bouts of laughter.

Astarion and I double over laughing at our own stupid jokes.

“At least you make each other laugh, tch.” Lae'zel stalks away from us while we try to bring our giggles under control.

Gale is next to welcome us back to camp, although ‘welcome’ might be an overstatement.

“What happened to the plan? All I asked was that you remain imperceptible with minimal casualties. I sincerely hope that you had a good reason for demolishing an entire building! Now the cultists will be at our heels as we venture forth to find the elder brain.”

Astarion huffs, already drained from the conversation, “As it stands, nothing has changed then, has it?” he looks down at his nails, “except less cultists,” he gives a little shrug of his shoulder.

I quickly pull the enchanted note from my pocket, “Here, take this,” I thrust it in his direction, “the message is hidden under some kind of charm.”

Astarion perks up, “Yes, it looks positively time-consuming. You better get to it then,” he grabs Gale's shoulders and turns him around before shooing him away.

As I watch Gale walk away, fully engrossed in his new magical plaything Astarion leans over behind me and whispers, “Darling, I think you have made me wait long enough. Why don’t we take some time to ourselves, hm?”

I turn and playfully swat at his shoulder, “While everyone is awake, Astarion?! What do you think of me?”

He laughs breathily, “I think,” he reaches out and brushes his knuckles down my throat and across my collarbone, “You want it just as bad as I do. Am I wrong?”

I blush at his touch and at his words, suddenly feeling shy. “There's that color I love so much,” he whispers softly, cupping my rosy face in his hands.

I lean into his cool touch, overcome by his words. He pulls me harshly into his body and tilts his head to the side, crushing his lips to mine.

I snake my arms around his neck and jump into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. He is right, I want it bad.

He smiles under our kiss and carries me to his tent, leaving the chatter of the camp behind.

We fall in tandem onto his bedroll, his tongue desperately searching for mine. Our bodies grind together as our kiss intensifies and I moan under his embrace.

Astarion pulls away long enough to pull his shirt over his head. I remove mine quickly before we are at each other's mouths again. It is as if the momentary lapse away from one another was too agonizing.

Our hands roam aimlessly over each other's bodies. I tangle my hands into his hair and pull lightly and he offers a quiet growl in response–a growl that sends a shiver down my spine.

His hips roll into me, and his arousal is evident against mine. I gasp desperately, needing to feel him inside me. I pull on the waistband of my tactical trousers and peel them off with newfound urgency.

Astarion looks deeply into my eyes before removing his own and tossing them to the side. Instead of coming back to hover over me, he sits against the back wall of his tent and cocks an eyebrow in my direction.

“Come sit on my lap, baby girl,” he pats his thigh and I think I might faint at the new pet name. I eye him for a moment, watching the way his muscles move as his ribs expand and contract while he breathes. The moonlight casts a silvery haze around his ivory curls, and for a moment it looks like he dawns a glorious halo. My fallen angel. His vermillion eyes are unusually bright and clear as they rake over my exposed body–taking in my curves and the way my body reacts to him.

My pupils are completely blown out and my nipples stand erect. The slickness between my thighs only intensifies under his watchful gaze. My skin prickles with gooseflesh.

I crawl towards him and sit on his lap, laying my back against his hard chest. We breathe in unison, relishing the way our silken skin feels against one another.

He brings a hand to my jaw and tilts my head back to face him. He leans in and kisses me softly at first, his pace quickening as his free hand travels down my body. His lips are bruising against mine and he sucks my bottom lip into his mouth–his fangs grazing against me. He gropes at my chest, rolling my nipples between his thumb and index finger. I whimper under his touch. His arousal digging into my back–as if foreshadowing what's to come.

His hand continues to wander over my body, memorizing all of my curves and scars. He stops just before the apex of my thighs, and I yearn for him to touch me–to bring me unimaginable pleasure.

I whimper softly at the anticipation. “Darling,” he chuckles darkly, “Your body is practically begging for me, but I'd much rather hear it from your lips,” his voice is gravelly and thick with lust and my body quivers in response.

“A-Astarion, please,” I practically cry. My body was beginning to tremble, yearning for his touch–for him. My heart was pounding in my throat, something I’m sure that he had already noticed. His hand tapped impatiently just above my sex, and I know he is trying to coax more words from my lips.

“Oh dear, you make such sweet sounds,” he coos with a mixture of love and condescension, “But I need more,” as the last word leaves his lips, he tangles his fingers through my hair and pulls back harshly, and I reward him with a whimper.

“P-please, touch me Astarion,” I mewl. My body aches for his touch and I need him more than the air I breathe. I need to be engulfed by him.

“Since you asked very very nicely,” he murmurs softly. He quickly complies and dips his fingers expertly into my slick folds, “Such an eager little pup,” he coos, admiring the way my body reacts to him–how wet he makes me.

Astarion traces agonizingly slow circles around my clit, applying just enough pressure to ignite my senses. He tugs on my hair until my head rests against his shoulder and my back is arched to an ungodly degree.

As he continues his ministrations, the building pleasure in my core only grows as he drags his fangs against the soft flesh of my throat. I offer him a choked cry, wanting nothing more than to feel him drink from my neck. He inhales deeply, drinking in my scent.

“Feed on me,” I beg, my body longing to feel his fangs pierce my neck–to feel my life essence slip from my body as it nourishes him.

He offers me a low chuckle, clicking his teeth at me as if I were a petulant child, “Patience my love. I want to taste you at the height of your pleasure when your adrenaline is at its peak. I want to be inside you first,” he purrs. His fingers unexpectedly enter my dripping cunt, and I gasp loudly.

A cool hand clasps over my mouth, reminiscent of our entanglement earlier tonight. He knew I enjoyed it. “Sh sh sh. We wouldn’t want to disturb the whole camp now, would we?” I shake my head, unable to speak.

I’m panting heavily as he pushes deeper inside me, curling his fingers to perfectly hit my sweet spot. Pleasure radiates through my body, and I moan into his hand, unable to control the sounds he coaxes from my body. His pace quickens and I can feel myself nearing the edge of no return.

“That’s it, my sweet,” he purrs into my ear, his hot breath tickling the back of my neck overloading my senses and sending a wave of gooseflesh across my skin, “come for me.”

His words push me over the precipice, and I am falling, coming undone around his fingers, and dissolving into pure bliss. My silken walls tighten around his slender fingers as they coax me to climax. My body quivers, the white-hot flash of my orgasm rocking through my body as he whispers motivating words in my ear. I’m blinded by the pleasure he offers me and my heart pounds in my chest. My toes curl in response as wave after wave of ecstasy flows through my body. I whimper under his hand, and he growls in response, only intensifying my splintering pleasure.

“I can’t wait any longer,” he whispers gruffly, pulling his hands from my mouth and pussy. He grabs my waist–his fingers digging painfully into my soft flesh. He lifts me over his throbbing member, lining himself up with my dripping cunt. My body still spasms with the aftermath of my orgasm, and before I can completely fall back to Faerun he has thrust himself inside me, his cock stretching me out–testing my ability to fully take him inside of me.

“Gods below,” he growls, “You are so perfect,” his raspy voice is thick with praise.

I straddle his hips, my back still firmly pressed against his hardened chest. I barely manage to take him–inch by inch until I am flush against his hips. He is so deep inside me I feel like I might lose myself all over again.

He snaps his hips into me and guides my own to meet him thrust for thrust. I whimper, biting my lip to keep the screams from escaping as his cock brushes against my cervix. My mind swirls with unfiltered ecstasy, his movements lulling me into unfettered desire.

He fills me completely, and his jolting pace is both unrestrained and carnal. He slides himself out of me almost entirely, his throbbing head stretching me out further than I thought possible. The sweet burn of his girth inside me is alluring. The way my slick walls cling to him tightly elicits another growl from deep within his chest, and he hisses as he buries himself to the hilt once again.

My arousal rings loudly like a symphony throughout the tent, only motivating him to rut into me harder and with more force. I cry out, no longer caring if the other companions hear us inside. He was claiming my pussy–claiming me as his, and I gladly give myself over to him completely.

He firmly takes hold of my throat, applying just enough pressure to cut off the blood flow to my head, sending me into a delirious spiral that threatens to push me over the edge once again.

He continues to rut his hips into me, my ass rippling with each forceful thrust. Shockwaves of pleasure undulate through me. He tilts my head to the side, giving himself full access to my neck. He places sloppy kisses against the soft flesh of my shoulder and neck, warning me that he is about to take what is rightfully his.

“Feed on me,” I beg. I’m barely able to contain my anticipation.

“As you wish, darling,” he chuckles darkly. His acquiescence to my request further spurs the churning passion in my core.

He bears his fangs, as sharp as our daggers, and pierces the flesh where my neck and shoulder meet. The searing hot pain floods through my body until the pleasure is far greater than the pain. He drinks greedily from my neck, lapping up the blood as it flows freely from the twin puncture wounds.

His body begins to warm against mine and I continue to rock my hips against him–his cock spearing into me and hitting that delicious spot all too perfectly. As my life essence is pulled from my body, a dizzying sensation washes over me. I begin to pant heavily, feeling myself approach another tantalizing orgasm. Warmth washes over me threatening to burst me into flames.

Astarion whimpers desperately into my neck, tasting the adrenaline that tinges my blood. His movements are quick, my blood allowing him more energy than I thought possible. He quickly flips me over onto my stomach, never once breaking contact with my throat and never once pulling out of me.

He hooks his leg under my thigh and forces my legs to open wide for him. He thrusts into me with such force, his assault punishing and feral. I whimper under his weight, his cock thrusting deeper into me than I could have ever imagined. My vision begins to blur, and my breathing becomes ragged.

At the height of my delirium my body tenses as I near the precipice of another climax.

“Astarion, I-I’m gonna–” before I can finish my sentence he pounds into me harder, coaxing the orgasm out of me.

I fall once again over the edge, my vision darkening around the corner as I melt against his tense body. A strangled cry escapes my lips as he rails into me harder, my orgasm rocking through my body with such intensity that I fear it may stop my heart altogether. My brain practically short-circuits as I clench tightly around him.

His own breathing becomes ragged, his thrusts sloppier–and I know he is chasing his own release. He pulls away from my throat long enough for a deep growl to erupt from his chest, and then he is spilling himself into me. His eyes roll into the back of his head, giving himself over to his ecstasy.

Our collective climaxes scream in unison–pleasure combusting through our bodies with unprecedented intensity. My orgasm begins to fall away, and I can feel his cock twitching inside me as the last of his spent fills me completely. His body trembles against mine and moans fall from his lips, much to my satisfaction. He finally stills above me, trying to control his panting.

I reminisce on his earlier words, promising that I will only get drunk off one thing and I smile knowingly–I am without a doubt intoxicated by the primal pleasure he elicits from me.

Finally, Astarion kisses at the nape of my neck, “I’ve missed this you know,” he whispers before pulling himself away. I whine at the sudden emptiness, but I roll over to look into his ruby-red eyes. He grins auspiciously.

“C’mere,” he commands before pulling me into his chest. I gladly nuzzle into him, snaking my arm around his midsection and wrapping a leg around his thigh. He traces small shapes into my back, softly grazing my skin with his fingertips.

I smile sweetly into the crook of his shoulder, relishing his gentle touches. “I love you, Astarion” I whisper.

He gives me his signature grin and gazes deeply into my eyes. After a brief moment of contemplation, he looks at me, adoration overtaking his sharp features, “How selfish I am, to crave something that has no business being mine. Yet here I am now, a glutton for your love.” He leans over and places a soft kiss on my forehead.

I hum happily at his affection. “You deserve everything, my love,” I whisper, “I’m yours,” all the love and affection I feel touches my words.

“As I’m yours, darling,” he sighs longingly, squeezing me closer to his body.

There have been nights in his tent where only grief and pain existed. But then there are moments like this, where the world grows quiet lulling into a deep slumber and we find ourselves entangled–caught in each other’s web, unable to say goodbye or part with one another. Our feelings laid bare for the other to see. All the pain, the sleepless nights are only bearable when we are with each other. But tonight, we rejoice in one another.

We sit comfortably in each other’s embrace until sleep overtakes us. Our contentment in one another coaxes us into soft dreams of the future.

#astarion #bg3 #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfic #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #f!reader x astarion #tav x Astarion #Baldur's Gate 3 #fanfic #fanfiction #Baldur's gate fic #Astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #Astarion smut #bg3 smut

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crystaldivination · 2 years

Text

𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮?

⤷ 𝖵𝖺𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝖾’𝗌 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅 ⤶

Hello beautiful souls ♡︎ This is the second part of the Valentine's edition. Check out the first part here. I hope to provide you with some lovely and/or helpful messages from your specific person with this intuitive pick a card reading. In this reading we will be looking at what are their feelings for you.

Feedbacks, reblogs, likes and follows are highly appreciated. I’m looking forward to hear your thoughts on this.

⭒ masterlist • paid services • tip me

How to choose a pile? Take a few deep breaths ＆ think of a number from 1 to 3. Trust your intuition to pick your number.

The piles ┊

see below in order ↴

Disclaimer ┊this is a general reading which may or may not resonate with you. Take what resonates and leave out anything that doesn’t. Feel free to choose another pile if you'd like.

PILE ONE

Dear pile 1, your person is in hermit mode. They are likely to have distanced themselves from most things. It could be because their emotions are going wild. They are out of balance right now. You might find them to be more sensitive than normal so it’s best to give them space instead of trying to provoke them. The way they feel doesn’t directly have anything to do with you but it stems from a feeling involving you. They might’ve felt inferior to you, more specifically to someone who’s quite close with you. They felt like they couldn’t keep up with the people in your circle. You guys might’ve met up with your friends or anyone you’re close with and to them it might have been a new experience. They weren’t really used to it and felt a little awkward and uncomfortable. But because they didn’t let it show, you weren’t aware of what was going on with them so you might’ve go on just naturally which might’ve hurt their feelings. The problem here lies in the miscommunication. They might’ve kept it to themselves about how they really felt then and aren’t willing to communicate openly with you about the situation they’re bothered by and you failed to ask them probably about how they sincerely feel. This causes you two to be detached from one another, could even led to coldness between you two while continuing to ignore the problem itself.

They wish to dissolve this sour environment that exists right now by coming up to you but they seem to be hesitant towards that idea. It’s not easy to step up when you’ve been hurt although they know it’s not your fault. It’s solely their own insecurity yet they would want you to make the first step to come to them and encourage them. To comfort you, they are only this way because they love you so much that they're afraid you are too good for them and that you could leave them anytime you want to. They’re really scared to even think of that thought because you’ve grown too deep into their heart which leave them to be so devastated over this. They’re sorry to have caused you stress and made you sad. They want to make up with you this instance and they crave to feel you in their arms. Take your time and run into their arms once you feel the need to do so. They are waiting for you.

Quotes & keywords: "I’m sorry", "don’t you see how devastated I am?", "I’m pathetic right?", "I’m just pretending to be ok", "I swear I don’t mean it", "I mean it", "I love you", blue (vibe), friends, meet up, gloomy, powerless

PILE TWO

Dear pile 2, your person might be a very open-minded and free-spirited person who isn’t used to commitment or dedicating themselves to someone, not after they met you, pile 2. You very much change their whole perspective on love and everything one considers as affection and tenderness. Maybe they’re used to feel ignorance or even intolerance so they didn’t know what those words mentioned above mean and felt like. But with you, they got to experience that. They’ve felt love, the feelings of being in love and being loved by you. You changed their world. They were someone who didn’t take anything seriously because to them not everything has a real meaning. Most of their life they spend being emotionless towards people they’ve encountered with because again they don’t see any purpose to get too close with anyone. They might’ve grown up in a cold and "toxic" environment, leaving them missing that warmth that human and other beings should carry in themselves so that’s one of the things why they are so pitiful. Despite that they were never disrespectful or condescending towards others. They managed to not turned into someone they’re not. They didn’t choose to be cruel, abhorred and heartless. They were the way they are simply because they didn’t master the law of love yet since they didn’t possess it. You saw their good heart from the beginning on that is hidden deep in them and you were not afraid to get near it and take it out. You did it not out of pity but solely out of compassion and empathy for one another being. They realized that your intentions were pure and trusted their own intuition to open themselves up to you. They were comforted by your gentleness and softness. Looking back now they’re really happy they did show themselves to you. Haven’t they done it they wouldn’t have a wonderful connection with someone like you. I heard a chuckle? (They’re the sweetest). They see you as their mentor for life, someone who they could follow everywhere blindly. They feel like you could lead and guide them to their purpose because you’re part of it and they wish to be with you for as long as possible. For the first time they really dream of having a family and a place where they can called their own home. They’d want you to be the mother of their future kids.

Quotes & keywords: mentor, "you’ve changed me in a beautiful way", love, life, YOU, purpose & meaning, bloodline, descendant, family, scenario turning into reality

PILE 3

Dear pile 3, this might seem like a new love story for you. A happy and healthy one especially. Your person might be a very gentle person and they surely admire you a lot. They see you as a wholesome individual who is too precious to even exist in this harsh world. They want to nurture you from the bottom of their heart and always be there for you when you need them. They’re glad to have you in their life. They’re so thankful that you add a more positive and joyful side to their daily life. Before you entered their life they might’ve gone through a lot of difficult situations. They were totally in survival mode, defensive and hostile most of their times in order to survive, literally. They believed that the world was against them and that they only existed to suffer. But then you came and mend that pain and heal that wound of them. They’re grateful they have met you at that time when they were struggling the most and lost all their hope. They truly see you as their savior so they want to cherish and protect you now since you’ve done so much for them already. You make them happy everyday. Everyday with you in their life is a blessing. They might have evolved a lot as a person because of you. They want to do so much for you. You can see this desire and ambition of them through their efforts. They might show up randomly at your workplace to just pick you up after your shift ends or they might surprise you from time to time with gifts. They are always present and available for you. They want to change for the better for you and are working on it to become the person you’re proud to be with. They want you to know that there is still so much to them behind all the things that they’re showing to you. You can expect heartfelt gestures and expressions from them. They’ll be your dream come true like you’re for them as well.

Quotes & keywords: blessing, "you’re my dream come true", "is it my destiny to meet you?", beautiful, lover, a picture paint to live in all of the time, "watch me repeating myself", heart eyes, soft, heartbeats, exciting

I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading ・❥・

Written with love by Crystal

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ctheathy · 11 months

Note

Hiii May I request for Nine x Sweet Seedrian Reader? Yandere or not im okay with any! Thank you for all the tails variety content its v much appreciated

Yandere Nine w/ sweet!seedrian!Darling

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author’s note: Good day, Nonnie =))) tried my hardest to get creative with this concept, especially as I headcanon the counterpart foxes [Nine, Mangey and Sails] into sometimes having visions of the memories the original Tails held.

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Delusional mindset • Illusions • Mention of Cosmo’s death • He views the core memories that belonged to Tails as hallucinations • Nine’s isolation

What a complex scenario you're in ... Seedrians are known to be quite the rare and valuable characters, their species being infrequent among the environment as a whole and especially when it comes to Nine’s dimension. It is an absolute miracle you haven't been taken in as a captive yet and even managed to meet Nine in the first place, regarding his hidden agenda and isolated workshop from the community. As soon as you cross paths with the fox, the interaction is going to be quite similar as it would usually go. We have Nine trying to reject any offerings of friendship all while being sarcastic and demanding for answers in the process. He just doesn't understand... He's behaving absolutely intolerable towards you and he knows it. He constantly gives you the cold shoulder and snarky attitude towards the smallest acts of kindness you provide.

But in a way... Your sudden appearance to him sends him in a constant state of deja vu. He might behave coldly towards you, but your kind and optimistic behaviour. It sends him in a complete daze whenever even a few words leave your lips. Almost as if his mind is filled with memories that don't belong to him. You remind him of someone he has seen among his daydreams and fantasies. Thoughts that also seemed to belong to another... Certain visions slipping into his mind of another seedrian he has never even met before in his actual life. One who has died within his own mind literal years ago.

...Cosmo ?

Your arrival starts to freak him out ever so slightly. He's had dreams of a similar creature that looked just like you... And you seem to hold similar characteristics too, as well as your kindness and generosity. He cannot help but compare you to the mere picture of the one pleasant memory he has formed in his own fantasies. Illusions he believes to have created for his own self benefit and to prevent the loss of his sanity due to the isolation he faced. He'll start to question your existence and become hesitant with his behaviour towards you ...almost seeing you as if you were a Godsend created just for him in order to save him from his own loneliness.

Nine tends to assume the information he's seen among his illusions as in truthful to your own history, not getting the fact that you both are two separate seedrians. He's always viewed Cosmo as some sort of angel back in the day when she used to corrupt his dreams. And now he cannot help but expect you and hold you accountable to fill that same void as she used to before her eventual demise. Nine tends to grow more attached to you due to his aspect of the truth between realism and the simple illusions he's had in his past. And despite his desire for a realistic point of view, he is quite frankly just determined to believe that you are in fact that same seedrian as the one he's always considered emotional support, that you came back to life in order to protect him from his dreadful fate.

And he will keep you to fulfill that mere hallucination of his. Even if it's against your will.

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #tails x reader #yandere tails #sonic the hedgehog #nine tails #tails nine #nine the fox #yandere nine #nine x reader #yandere sonic prime #sonic prime x reader #sonic prime nine #sonic prime #yandere nine x reader #yandere tails x reader #yandere sonic #yandere sonic the hedgehog

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prince-liest · 6 months

Note

Hey, since you've written a lot of Alastor-centric fics that explore him having complex relationships with other characters, I was wondering if you had any wip about Alastor & Husk, or just any hcs about them in general!! I find it interesting that Husk is the only one who knows about his deal...

And yes the fact that Alastor owns Husk' soul is pretty bad for any development in their relationship lol. But it also adds flavor to their dynamic! (and Alastor hasn't been THAT abusive with him so far in regards to their contract? He made a death threat but he didn't need to own Husk' soul to do that. He forces him to work at the hotel but Husk used to use the souls he owned like pawns he could gamble away, treating people like property he could afford to lose to other "masters", so he's not worse that Husk in comparison... That's an insanely low bar, I know)

Current WIPS, no, headcanons, yes!

I think their relationship is very interesting, and a lot of that specifically comes from Husk's side of things. I'm honestly fully putting aside the issue of how abusive Alastor has or hasn't been to him, because in the end, slavery is slavery (assuming that's the power that Husk's contract grants) even if one overlord isn't as sadistic as another (Husk himself included), BUT:

I think it's very interesting that Husk and Alastor clearly have a long-term working relationship that includes Husk giving at least half of a shit about Alastor. Their interaction during Mimzy's episode is not very long but I think it is very telling. Obviously it's telling about Alastor's intolerance toward his power and position being questioned, and it's also telling about how much Alastor has been undermined that even someone who knows him like Husk is expressing doubt... but I think its also particularly telling that it includes Husk reaching out to watch Alastor's back (before Alastor bites his head off for it).

I think it's hard to say exactly why he does it - how much of it is because he knows that Alastor getting in trouble also means Husk getting in trouble, how much of it is because Husk is growing to care about the hotel, especially after his episode with Angel, and how much of it is because he's grown attached to Alastor in a weird way over the years, but I personally like to think it's a combination of all three.

Husk was a powerful overlord and I think that's very in line with his portrayal of being someone who distances himself from people in callous ways... but ends up caring more than he intends to when he does get close to them. We most clearly see this with Angel Dust, but I think it's also reflected in his callousness as an overlord and how it turned into regret once he lost his soul to Alastor, and also how he occasionally reacts to the people he's known a long time: namely, Alastor (during the Mimzy episode) and Niffty (when she gets drunk at the club)!

I think Alastor and Husk's lives have been intertwined for a long time, and I also think that it's hard not to grow to care about another person on some level as a result, even if you also heavily resent them, especially if their well-being is your well-being. I don't think Husk likes Alastor very much (it would be hard to in his position) but I don't think he sees Alastor's ownership of his soul as having taken advantage of him so much as a natural consequences of the games he himself played with people's souls, which lets him sit in a position that to him feels less like "victim" and more like "beleaguered subordinate."

And Alastor also does put some effort into keeping things with Husk copacetic. He loses his cool and snaps at him during their confrontation, but outside of that context the attitude he maintains seems to include both being a smarmy jackass and giving Husk actual reasons to work for him other than "or else." It's technically not canon to the show, but I personally consider his bribing of Husk with drink to work for the hotel in the pilot to be canon to my interpretations, at least. It makes sense to me that Alastor wants to maintain a decent working relationship, as opposed to one where Husk would be more inclined to actively sell him out for a dime rather than marinate in his own resignation.

Anyway. Long post! But I think they're interesting, haha.

#ask #personal #Anonymous #hazbin hotel #husk #alastor #long post #meta #my writing

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anextrapart · 11 months

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not going to happen on the show but consider:

izzy hands is dead.

izzy hands is dead but not for long before sea-witch buttons pulls him (kicking and screaming) back to the gravy basket to wrestle with the choice to live or die.

izzy hands who was so, so tired in life and is finally able to rest. no more pain in his amputated limb, no more drinking to numb it, no more ringing-in-the-ears that never quite faded from a near-fatal gunshot to the forehead. he's resting now, but. but. life was maybe starting to look good there for that last bit.

izzy hands doesn't understand how he could go back after a burial at sea and buttons informs him that he has a grave, actually, with a marker made just for him by the hands of people who cared enough about him to make one. that the grave was ed's choice, ed who couldn't bear to consign him to the sea and not be able to visit him every now and again. a choice supported by lucius who quietly added that the sharks shouldn't have any more of him.

izzy hands making pros and cons and god there's a lot of cons he really was so fucking tired. but there's pros too, there's life at sea, and there's that little island he hasn't seen in years with the waterfall and the sunsets, and there's eddie continuing to smile like he's never smiled before, and there's strong coffee, and there's thunderstorms, and there's stede tripping over his own sword, and there's that crew of intolerably lovable idiots who still need some training up.

izzy hands who is an old-school career pirate and change is so hard, he doesn't know if he could do it for real, but life was starting to look so good for that last bit, wasn't it?

izzy hands saying fuck it, let's give it another go.

izzy hands waking up dirt-heavy and choking and what the fuck, buttons, give a man a warning would you? and crawling his way to the surface because it's only worth it if it takes some effort, and at least buttons (human, again, for now) is helping dig him out.

izzy hands laughing harder than he's maybe ever laughed in his life at the sound of stede's shriek when he turns up on the porch, muddy and exhausted and covered in dried blood from a wound that doesn't exist anymore or maybe never happened at all. the air is knocked straight out of his lungs with the force of ed's hug and though he's chosen in favor of breathing again, he doesn't mind the lack of air for this.

izzy hands finding his way back to the revenge. sailing for the joy of it, and being a part of a crew again, and realizing that frenchie's pirating strategy of scams and cons is so much more fun than traditional blood-soaked raids, and training jim in sword-fighting in exchange for them teaching him knife-throwing.

izzy hands making friends, real ones, for the first time in his life.

izzy hands falling in love maybe, resigned to pining and such a disaster that lucius notices before anyone else and promotes himself to wingman, genuinely helping but gleefully mocking the entire way.

izzy hands living and not regretting a single second of it.

#i am feeling some kind of way #(the one he falls in love with is frenchie because i say so)#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #spoilers #long post

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ghostlyforxst · 1 year

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Ohhh that Fatgum request 😳 I hope you don't mind a follow-up idea, I'm just thinking about Fatgum being real dominant and drunk on his own power..maybe absorbing some energy from his sub with his quirk (I figure he's more powerful since it's a #1 hero AU) 💦 big and dominant in every way

❱ http:˚♡All To You by Sabrina Claudio ˚ˑؘ 🍄 ·˚

GENDER: Female Reader

WARNINGS: Number One Hero AU, Inappropriate Language, 18+, Masturbation (Female), Overstimulation, Metions of Dumbification, Squirting, Rough Sex, Slight! Breeding, and Dominate behavior

CHARACTER: Taishiro Toyomitsu (Fatgum)

WORD COUNT: 835

A/N- I'm loving all the thirsty fatgum requests, but anyways thank you for requesting and enjoy ;3

You laid awake, eyes boring into the high ceilings as you twisted the ring on your finger, before you flipped and faced Taishiro—watching his chest rise and fall with wordless mumbles.

You were aware he was exhausted from his hero duties, considering that the villains have been more persistent as of late but you missed him. He barely had time for you when he arrived in the late hours, leaving the house lacking his presence throughout the day. It didn't help that you were feeling amorous, needy for Taishiro's rough yet gentle hands and needy for him to release his stress on you. Your eyes shut, tremblingly, as the flaming heat between your feverish thighs became intolerable. A whiny breath utters from your lips as your thighs knead one another desperately for a bit of relief, finding it as your thigh chafed against your puffy clit. You huffed, tears beading in your eyes with frustration, and you entangled your fingers into your hair. Even if your body cried out for Taishiro, you weren’t going to disturb his rest when you could tackle your fat and deprived cunt yourself—but you didn’t intend on waking him.

A hand slithers past your ‘jama shorts, shuddering as your finger stroked over your clad slit before shedding from your shorts and dampened panties. You inhale sharply as the drafty air kisses your aroused cunny, stifling a moan. Your fingers rubbed circles on your folds, slipping in a digit and teasing your sensitive bud. You were losing yourself, becoming more and more difficult to withhold those needful noises and jerks of your hip as your fingers crept down to your greedy hole and stretched you prettily.

“Taishiro~” You breathe, bucking into your hand.

Taishiro’s eyes flicked open, discerning your muffled whimpers and the wet smack of your thrusting fingers, his brows furrowed before raising with realization. He tossed around, catching you as your skin prickled and your back arching when you came around your fingers. His hand tickles over your clammy skin, your arousal seeping into his body, as he felt his cock harden achingly.

Taishiro’s lips draws into a taunting smirk, “my baby is so restless tonight, isn’t she?”

Your glossy eyes widen, before bobbing your head sluggishly.

“Now you know I loathe it when you exclude me, definitely when I could’ve gotten a taste of that pussy.”

“M’sorry, Taishy. Didn’t wanna bother you when I know yer tired.” You murmured, your words drawn out.

He smiled before he mounted you, “that’s sweet of you baby, but you know I gotta punish ya.”

You mewled, his hips rutting against yours, flinging your head back. Taishiro maneuvers himself from his gray joggers, you ogled at his swollen and redden cock. He takes your chin between his fingers and tilts it for you to stare him in the eye. “Look at me…be a good girl and spread wide for me.”

You parted your legs, your glistening lips in sight. Taishiro breathes through his nostrils and envelops his dick with his hand, swirling and smushing the head between your folds before he sheathes himself in your warmth with a groan. Your eyes deters from him, squirming beneath him. He growls and smacks your cunt, manhandling your jaw once again.

“‘I’m not going to ask you again,” He chided, “look at me.”

A hand palms at your stiffen teat while the other grasps your hip, setting a rhythmic tempo. Taishiro’s head slouches with a low hum, absorbing your lustful energy with every pump of his dick—now he was losing himself.

You choked on a sob as Taishiro swells into his chunky form, his girth stuffing you utmost. Your nails clawed at his wrist, his pace increasing. “Taishy, gentle.”

He scoffs before he snatches your legs and forcing them to your chest, fucking you further at an angle that had you squealing.

“I can't help it, baby cakes. I just want you so bad.” Taishiro moaned, his tongue lolled and drooled past his lip as he became drunk off of sex.

You gripped at the sheets, his name coming from your lips, as you came undone. “Taishiro!”

“T’such a good girl.” Taishiro sputtered, eyes rolling back as he spilled himself into your womb.

His hold lessen as he smothers himself into your breast, thrusting languidly, and resting for a few before he lifts himself on to his elbows as his dick jackhammered into your quivering pussy.

“No!” You wailed, attempting to pull from him.

“Give me one more,” He grunted.

You felt your gut tightened once more, your bottom lip wobbling. This was what you wanted, you missed his touch and now you got it with a consequence. Your wall spasmed around his cock, squirting with strained scream. You stared up at him tiredly, watching as his jaw jutted and his back curved when he reached his release. Taishiro collapses beside you, his chest heaving as he brings you into him.

You snuggled into him, lips coming to a smile. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, baby girl.”

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 1 year

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another anti-psych post from your neighborhood patient-therapist

In my last post I talked about the kinds of basic needs people and communities have, and asked what it might look like in your community to meet those needs as a baseline. This time we're going to talk more about what happens when communities and individuals are chronically un-/under-served.

Okay so let's break it down this way. We're gonna try looking at just one medical symptom of chronic stress: autonomic dysregulation. It's not going to feel like we are, but I promise that's all we're doing. This is a *serious* symptom and it often comes clustered with others due to the way it functions within the body, which is why I think it is a useful case study here. Autonomic dysfunction, especially chronic dysfunction, can temporarily (though for long spans of time if the dysfunction remains chronic rather than acute) alter the functioning of other systems within the body such as the endocrine system, the reproductive system, cognitive functioning through the hippocampus and amygdala, and muscle functioning, nerve functioning, and others. It is no joke to suggest that long term autonomic dysfunction can often lead to major long term health consequences that are life altering for the person experiencing them. While some can be treated, managed, or even cured, not all can be and this is something I want us all to keep in mind as we consider the need for building communities that do not cause this kind of harm to their people.

Let's look at some potential medical outcomes of autonomic dysfunction, per the Mayo Clinic:

Dizziness and fainting when standing, caused by a sudden drop in blood pressure.

Urinary problems, such as difficulty starting urination, loss of bladder control, difficulty sensing a full bladder and inability to completely empty the bladder. Not being able to completely empty the bladder can lead to urinary tract infections.

Sexual difficulties, including problems achieving or maintaining an erection (erectile dysfunction) or ejaculation problems. In women, problems include vaginal dryness, low libido and difficulty reaching orgasm.

Difficulty digesting food, such as feeling full after a few bites of food, loss of appetite, diarrhea, constipation, abdominal bloating, nausea, vomiting, difficulty swallowing and heartburn. These problems are all due to changes in digestive function.

Inability to recognize low blood sugar (hypoglycemia), because the warning signals, such as getting shaky, aren't there.

Sweating problems, such as sweating too much or too little. These problems affect the ability to regulate body temperature.

Sluggish pupil reaction, making it difficult to adjust from light to dark and seeing well when driving at night.

Exercise intolerance, which can occur if your heart rate stays the same instead of adjusting to your activity level.

Some common comorbid conditions may include Diabetes, Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, Parkinson's, Irritable Bowel Syndrome, or an autoimmune disorder. In each of these cases I want you to remember the lens of an individual body being denied, in some way, its base needs (an edocrine hormone, a nutritional component, the internal security of homeostasis, etc), to such an extent that it begins to experience an internal catastrophic failure, as this lens may often be supportive of accommodating your disabled comrades, or yourself, in the future.

I also want us to consider some common social statistics relevant to these conditions. Nearly 4% of the world experiences and autoimmune disorder. Most are women, and Indigenous, Black, and Latina women are at risk than most for several of these. In the United States, there are suspected to be 37.3 million people with diabetes. Diabetes is also considered an autoimmune disorder by researchers, and is one that the Indigenous, Filipino, Indian, Latine, and Black communities are all at higher risk for than white people are, however, risk is also heavily influenced by poverty, and by a family's location with respect to food deserts which grow more and more common. In a truly wild statistic, 80% of lesbians versus 32% of heterosexual women had polycystic ovaries in one study, and 33% of lesbians versus 14% of heterosexual women had progressed to PCOS. Some studies find that transmasculine folks are more likely to PCOS as well.

When we consider the marginalization these groups experience, and the way that marginalization plays out in the social forum, the political forum, in the financial forum, and in the emotional forum, are we really surprised to learn that it plays out in the embodied forum too?

This is what people mean when they talk about social murder. These are health conditions that don't just change lives, they end them. A system that churns out people so chronically sick that their bodies are desperately killing themselves trying to stay alive is a society that has become desperately sick. Diabetes is something we have attributed to individuals, to families, and even every once in a while to corporations, but at what point have we sat down and looked at a society that produces this murderous autoimmune disorder at such high rates and asked the real question: how are we making so many people sick?

The answers are many, and that can feel overwhelming, but I encourage you to start in one place and learn your way around it as well as you can before you even consider moving on. Maybe start with food deserts. They're probably familiar to you, you've heard about them in passing before I imagine, even if you're not really too into this stuff. But ask yourself WHY food deserts are able to exist? What are the mechanics of one being born? How does one stay free from the stain of a grocery store or food market? Are there any places like that near you? If so, what points of leverage might there be in that location for you to break the homeostasis of the food desert? How can you add your weight to efforts already occurring, or stir up sentiment around the idea of a new homeostasis where a grocery store exists? Can you put up flyers or attend town hall meetings? Can you knock doors or phone bank? Can you bring some sugar by your neighbors and comment how frustrating it is you all have to go so far to get your groceries and wonder what's up with that and maybe start scheming together? What kind of store should it be? Bring in a local market? A chain? Build a co-op or merchant's stalls for a four season farmer's market?

Get really into one idea, and get others in on it with you. I bet you aren't the only one who'd like a better status quo.

#anti-psych #chronic stress #food deserts #this one is still fuzzy i may come back to it

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bellyasks · 6 months

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Maybe some spacey fantasy and/or sci-fi ones? 🌕🌑🪐✨🌟💫☀️🌙

thankyouuu i didnt get super creative with it but i had fun jghfbdnsmj

🌕 Your character arrives at their colleague's place on another planet feeling plenty full after stopping for lunch on the way over. The other person is excited to share this planet's cuisine with their friend, though, considering your character has never been here, and has prepared an enormous dinner showcasing the best food the planet has to offer.

🌑 Having misplaced themself in the jungle of an unfamiliar planet, your character is growing hungrier and hungrier. Their belly may be empty, but the plants around them are filled with strange and colorful fruits. They have a guide book with them detailing which ones are edible to the planet's inhabitants, but there's still no knowing how the unfamiliar fruits will react with their not-even-from-here stomach. Well, what's the worst that could happen?

🪐 Your character is visiting a planet they've never been to before. They're very curious and a little bit of a foodie, and they're eager to try as much of the local cuisine as they can on their visit. Some of it they love, some they don't care for at all, some of it might be difficult for their belly to process since it's so different from anything they've eaten before, but they're thoroughly stuffed by the time their trip is through.

✨ Your character visits a space station cafe and sees that stardust is an optional additive. Curious, they order their drink with stardust, and the friendly tentacled barista adds a nice heaping scoop. As it turns out, stardust is extremely spicy, and your character is hiccuping and burping up glitter for the rest of their visit as they struggle to finish the drink.

🌟 Your character is some kind of massive cosmic entity, big enough to swallow stars. Normally, they only go for smaller ones, which fill them up nicely. Right now, though, they're feeling particularly hungry and manage to get their jaws around a very big one. It stretches the walls of their stomach with an enormous warmth. Do they enjoy the sensation, or is it too much?

💫 Your character has been traveling through the stars for ages without a break. They finally stop at an intergalactic rest stop with pretty limited food options. Hungry and exhausted, they grab something that they're pretty sure is compatible with their digestive system, although maybe not as compatible as they'd like it to be. Hopefully it doesn't have too wild an effect on their tummy, because they've still got a ways to fly.

☀️ Your character's primary food source is energy from the sun. When they're on their home planet, they absorb just the right amount of sunlight throughout the day, but if they visit a planet closer to the sun, they absorb that energy far more rapidly. They find themself frequently having to take shelter as they fill up uncomfortably quickly with sunlight, leaving them feeling bloated and sore.

🌙 Your character is lactose intolerant, but they're excited to learn that cheese from the moon is dairy-free. They visit the moon to pick some up and are so excited to eat cheese without consequences that they wildly overdo it. As it turns out, even dairy-free moon cheese upsets their tummy when they eat that much of it in one day.

#prompts #belly kink #tummy kink #stuffing #stuffed belly #stomachache kink #belly expansion #belly #bellyache #my post #scenario #fantasy

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stripedwolf88 · 6 months

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The ability for Jewish people say that a Jewish person is minimizing the atrocity of the Holocaust by comparing it to the genocide in Gaza when he just helped make a movie about one of many stories of Jewish suffering during the Holocaust that won an award. Just goes to show how people will get so defensive when someone points out that what their supporting may be wrong so you twist someone's words so that it looks like an attack on you and you can be the victim that is standing up to their ignorance and bullying.

Maybe if these people broke out of their biases and acknowledged that maybe the victims have now become the bullies they would understand. 'Cause guess what? It's actually pretty common for people to harm others when they have been harmed so is it really out of the question for a whole government to do the same? Really?

I urge people to use their critical thinking skills to look at the facts and remember that having humanity and seeking justice means that you care about the atrocities that happen to any kind of person and not just the ones that are like you.

I am appalled that so many Jewish creators and business people are justifying this genocide by almost saying what their ancestors went through is worse.

I am also simultaneously relieved and proud of every Jewish person who sees the similarities of their ancestors to the suffering of the Palestinians. They and everyone else supporting the Palestinians can fight for people unlike them because they are human beings who do not deserve to be slaughtered. They are being murdered because they are considered to be less than another group with more power. They understand that Palestinians deserve to have a life of peace joy and safety. They deserve to thrive just as everyone deserves a chance to thrive and not just survive.

This genocide is just more evidence to prove that this violence has more to do with caste systems in the world than just basing it off of intolerance of religion, race, gender, sexuality, or any other feature. It is about one group having the power to say I think I am better than you for whatever reason and therefore I have the right to decide whether you live or die and it is okay because I am better than you. It is a fact that because I have more power, I am better than you and I am worth more than you. It isn't just a hate but indifference to those unlike you that is a dangerous thing to have in this world.

I needed to express some of my thoughts on this because it has bothered me so much the way people are overlooking this and reducing what is happening in Gaza.

#free gaza #free palestine #ceasefire #ceasefire now #permanent ceasefire #justice for palestine #justice for gaza #palestinian genocide #stop the genocide

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ophelian-darling · 1 year

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hiiii!! can you write something with giorno with prompts 46 and 63? in which giorno lets darling out after months to meet up with some old friends (of course he has to be there too) and one of them (either girl or boy, it's up to you) is wayyyy too touchy with darling? and he gets jealous and possessive, wanting to go home as soon as possible.

and darling tries to calm him down, telling him that she only loves him and they cuddle & kiss aajahhaaha

you can also do it with gn reader, but i would like female. how you are more comfortable with!! much love <3

"I don't like them, don't ask me to be nice"

"A friend ? you call them a friend when they have their hands and eyes all over your body ?"

TW: Jealousy, Obsession, Possessiveness, Implied emotional manipulation.

enjoy ♡

The room basked in a warm shade of morning sun; casting its joy through the air to your smiling face as you stood in front of the vanity mirror, admiring your dolled reflection with glinting eyes. Giorno blessed your morning with good tidings: you were finally allowed to go out- not exactly what he told you, but it meant having some gentle breeze and sunshine caresses nonetheless.

Your Sweetheart said that he had an important matter to attend to, and it would be nice if you accompanied him (There was no way you'd refuse, memorizing the corners of the Villa exhausted your mind) and you gladly accepted. He mentioned the presence of his most trusted subordinates and close friends, and you couldn't be happier, a sweet excitement blinking in your eyes.

"Aren't you the prettiest?" it fell from his tongue, sugary in words and adoring in tone. Everything he says casted a certain magic on you that made you forget how intolerable he was with his jealousy and strict with his instructions concerning you: from your clothing, choice of words and comportment. Blamed be anything that pulled on the strings of his head whenever it was about you: other people's stares, pricks of the tiniest thorn or could be even a drift of air; to him, you were something that meant to be put on a pedestal, more of a porcelain marionette that its sob was a shatter.

A shy smile toned your lips while a heat bloomed on your cheeks. These simple words felt like a pink cloud; soft and loving in a way so special another human couldn't know how to offer. Despite all of his thorns, Giorno carried a constant love for you, for all your flaws and each speck of dust you stepped on, for every breath you took and word you uttered. His tiring Jealousy was dark, but a side to the brightness of his affection's moon; none of it was out of pure malice.

He plastered a quick kiss to your cheek "We're not going to take long, just five minutes and we will come back home again. If you're a good girl, I'll consider taking you somewhere nice"

You nodded. the same dreamy smile contouring your face with warmth.

"Buongiorno, Don Giovanna!" a brunette greeted, with a soft voice of a spring rain. as you both stepped into the small orchard, her appearance welcomed you next.

Lovely. She was lovely, in every letter of the word and in every meaning of a tongue.

Her skin, tan as a cloud's shadow, glowed under the morning's sun, refined as fine silk and smooth as fair sand. Her eyes sang for most of her loveliness- sorrel shade of brown, one of a rosewood or an orchid flower. you couldn't help but to stare. she smiled at you, revealing a row of pearls in her mouth.

"Welcome, Signora Giovanna, it's a pleasure to see you at last!" she swan gracefully, showing her full front; up from her amphora-shaped neck, middling to her tender cleavage and down to her hips that wrapped felinely under a pencil skirt.

Your shy smile must have conveyed something else for her. as she extended her hand for you, you took it a little stronger than you intended, causing her to pull you a little bit closer as to ease your nerves with a friendly gesture. Now looking at her through a distance she deserved to be beheld at, you noticed how a dark mole complimented under her left eye, as if it was a speck of black pearl's dust.

"Nice to see you Belladonna"

"T-thank you" you gave her another grateful smile.

"You're as pretty as I heard. no wonder that the Don is being such a genie" she chuckled, pulling on your heartstrings even more "He has quite a fair treasure. you're really something yourself, Signora"

A laugh was all that you had to offer, words on your tongue weren't enough to mirror her flattery, one that kissed heat on your cheeks. She was just so sweet.

"Tesorina?" It jumped to your attention now that her hand was still on yours.

You glanced at your side, where Giorno stood up: his face twisted into sullen lineaments, green eyes darkened just a tad under. you conned all of his expressions as much as you remembered the palm of your hand; your heart sank at how a pleasant walk outside was bound to be ruined from the very first minutes, all thanks to a woman you barely knew.

He pursed his lips in one tight line. as he ushered with his head to his side, you caught the drift and walked up to him.

"We're going home, now"

"You do seem eager to gloat yourself in other people's attention, as if I don't give you enough already"

"She was just being nice! none of what you're thinking was actually happening!"

"Now having the audacity to lie in my face and deny what I've seen?!"

"Nothing actually happened!" your hands flew around your head, while you did your best to compose your tone to be still. While he maintained his own anger at times you argued, he didn't want to hear your voice get louder at him in return. experiencing quarrels with him many times before, you knew that you were able to pacify things from your side by not fighting back, and saying what he wanted to hear the most.

"Gio…" you drew a meek smile "I don't have eyes on her at all. in fact, I don't see anyone else aside from you"

His face remained still, clearly unimpressed by your words. you had to try better than this, and taking a step closer to him would start it.

"I'm really sorry if you've seen something you didn't like, but please believe me when I say that she didn't do anything direct to me, nor did I like her in any sense. She was just acting like a friend"

He quirked an eyebrow "A friend? you call her a friend when she has her hands and eyes all over your body? you can't be this naive"

You felt a flutter in your heart. surely his paranoia was concerning ; yet you couldn't help but to feel a pang of guilt at letting him think that you weren't interested in him anymore. The idea of you preferring someone else over him was still carved in his head, and probably will never be erased unless you manage to prove your true loyalty to him.

"Did she? I didn't notice at all. but can you please be a little nicer next time in front of others? it was rude to treat someone like that" you rested your palms on his shoulders, now looking straight through his eyes.

"Don't ask me to be nice, everyone knows who you are and who I am. I don't like how she expects you to simply speak to her as if you aren't my wife"

"Aww!" you just laughed, planting a kiss in hopes of softening his rigid face. He is handsome- a smile on his lips meant a heaven full of stars to you.

Warmly, he enveloped you in a tender embrace, thumbs cosseting the sides of your cheek. You let yourself melt in his form, feeling his lulling pulse and kneading lips on your ribs and face, never feeling so revered than ever.

The description of the female character included in this piece was inspired from this oc.

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