#fedua1era

[fallesto]

He leaned over the railing and spat into the churning sea, watching his saliva dissolve instantly in the salt spray. The ferry lurched violently beneath him—this was no pleasure cruise, but a rusted, groaning vessel that smelled of mildew and stale tobacco. His knuckles whitened around the rail as waves slammed against the hull like fists. Behind him, he heard Kikyo's laughter cut through the wind, sharp as a knife between ribs. As he hated boats, he really hated fucking boats.

He didn't turn. The horizon tilted, the island's silhouette swelling like a bruise against the twilight. He could already hear the distant cacophony—glass shattering, drunken shrieks, the wet thud of fists on flesh. His stomach twisted, but not from seasickness. This was hunger. The kind that had gnawed at him since childhood, hollowed him out until only spite remained. As he narrowed his eyes and just sighed.

The plastic cup in his hand was warm from his grip. He tipped it back, letting the tepid water flood his mouth—then spat it overboard in a sharp arc. "Vacation." He snorted. As if pleasure could be bought with the stolen coins from Jigoro's offering box. The ferry's engine coughed, spewing black smoke that clung to his clothes. Somewhere below deck, a boy retched. He grinned. Let them puke. Let them scream. He'd survive this, too. He needed to cut loose, he needed away, too many problems, too many issues, too many things pinned onto him, he needed away from the mainland.

The island loomed closer now, its neon signs flickering through the haze. A Ferris wheel groaned under its own weight, half its cars dangling by twisted metal. his fingers twitched toward his hip—old habit. No sword. Not here. Only the knife in his boot, the one he'd shoved through a merchant's ribs three nights ago  who caught him stealing … again. He needed out of the city for as long as possible, to ensure things settled and nothing traced back to him.

The water in his cup tasted like rust and salt. He gulped it down anyway, throat burning. Vacation. Right. He could still smell the incense from Jigoro's funeral, thick and cloying in the summer heat. Could still see Zenitsu's face when he'd emptied the old man's coffers—that slack-jawed horror, like a kicked dog. He crushed the cup in his fist. Let him weep. Let them all rot. This was his now: the stink of sweat and cheap liquor, the promise of chaos humming in his veins like static before a storm. As he leaned back over the railing.

“Another hour, two and we will be there, three days off being away from everything and everyone.”

@fedua1era

[kiigan]

🩷 Orgasm / 🧡 Masturbation / 💛 Research / 💚 Foreplay / 💙 Aftercare

sunday-themed character asks

🩷 Orgasm - What does it take for them to orgasm? What do their orgasms usually look like/how obvious are they? Do they need to orgasm to feel like a sexual encounter was successful, or good?

ㅤStarting from the end, an orgasm is not necessarily mandatory nor does it always imply that a sexual encounter was successful/good, in Itachi's opinion. It's more like a cherry on top of the cake, so to speak: if the relationship is meaningful, then intimacy will ensue naturally and so will its climax (pun semi-intended). It's not something that you should rush towards or take it for a proof of something, because it will naturally happen at some point if you know your partner and they know you. And, even if it doesn't happen for whatever motive, that's no tragedy either. Reducing intimacy to a moment that lasts for a few seconds is something that doesn't really make sense to him.

ㅤAs for what does it take... it's not too complicated to bring him to the edge. Despite how stoic he usually is, Itachi is not someone who actively tries to resist it for the sake of pride or anything of the like — in fact, the feeling of being with someone he can fully trust to completely take control away from him and lead him to "lose" himself is an aphrodisiac in itself. Yes, please make me turn to putty in your hands, I trust you completely, thank you.

ㅤThere's the obvious things, of course, like touching and stimulating his sensitive spots (mainly, the neck and his sides and the small of his back). He also has a soft spot for hearing words of praise may or may not have a bit of a praise kink which is the only useful thing his pathological perfectionism has ever done for him. And, whereas he kind of hates it, at the same time he loves a good tease. Hates it in the sense that only HE should be allowed to tease his partner, the audacity/how dare, and loves it because, again, it loops back into being with someone who knows him so well they are able to play him like a fiddle like this. Someone who knows his weakest spots and will take advantage of them without ever making him feel unsafe. Trusting someone enough to submit to them in such a way always leads to the best orgasms.

ㅤFinally, in experiencing and expressing an orgasm, Itachi isn't too over the top. He's not really someone to scream until the neighbors can hear it or someone who will bounce so much the bed breaks. He's a naturally serene soul and it shows in this as well. No need to make a scene, what's important for him is that his partner can witness it and know that they were the one responsible for bringing him to such state. Itachi is naturally pale, due to his health condition, so he blushes rather easily and it really shows in moments like this. He's gonna be having them pink, warm cheeks for a while even after things are done. Same thing for bruises and love marks (which, mind you, he loves to wear). And also, courtesy of that same chronic condition, his blood circulation is a disgrace, which means wobbly legs after sex happen very often. Don't ever let him get up from bed (or whatever surface shenanigans were made on) immediately after, unless you're willing and prepared to catch him. Itachi is one of those persons who look unfairly pretty in their fucked-out state and he makes it very obvious and very satisfying for a partner to see how much of a hot mess they made out of him~

*****

🧡 Masturbation - What is their opinion on self pleasuring? Do they do it? Would they enjoy watching a partner do it?

ㅤIt's not really a big thing for Itachi. Having always been way too mature for his age, it also meant that he has been dealing with a lot of responsibilities and duties from a very young age — which in turn means not much time to explore or indulge in this kind of thing. Even if it wasn't for this, though, masturbation doesn't really mean much for him because, to Itachi, intimacy is only truly worth it if it's with a meaningful partner. So, a hand doesn't really quality, even though it can be a true savior sometimes.

ㅤOn the other hand... (pun again semi-intended) one way to make this incredibly erotic would be to masturbate for a partner/watch the partner masturbate. This he would gladly do, either or. Could even have the kinkiness cranked up to eleven by, for example, having one partner be bound and unable to do much while the other touches themself. Creativity is always endless!

*****

💛 Research - Do they like reading/watching/viewing any kind of pornography or erotic work? What kinds do they enjoy, if so? (tagging @panelborn who also sent this one)

ㅤThis is kinda the same thing as with masturbation. Pornography doesn't really mean much to Itachi, not because he is against it or considers it immoral or anything of the like, but rather because, by itself, it feels very shallow to him. There's no bond, there's no meaningful partner, it can be artsy and tasteful but it doesn't tick his boxes. Actually, he is that person who would sooner read the Kama Sutra, for example, out of genuine curiosity and wanting to study it instead of doing it for the sake of lewd things. Who needs models in a magazine or a movie when your partner is already the most beautiful and most arousing person in the entire world in your opinion? It's not something that he would judge others for enjoying, it's none of his business and more power to them, but it's not for him.

*****

💚 Foreplay - What do they consider foreplay? Do they enjoy it, and how much will they tolerate? (tagging @formaberserkir who also sent this one)

ㅤItachi absolutely LOVES foreplay! It's one of his favorite parts during intimacy. It ties back into some things I mentioned above, for the "Orgasm" prompt, especially the part about teasing — usually at a lesser level, since by definition foreplay means that things are just getting started and there's not much "urging" just yet. One of his favorite things to do is body worship, let him take his sweet time and appreciate and love and touch and kiss and suck and bite his partner's whole body, from top to bottom and then back up again. Also, little kinks such as light bondage or temperature play can add wonders to this stage. No need to rush, orgasm will happen when it has to, for now let's explore and enjoy all these sensations together and let blood rush out of our brain and then gradually revert to normal because we still have so much ahead of us. Foreplay is also always a perfect excuse for kisses, which is something Itachi will never say no to. Give this man all the kisses.

ㅤAnd also — foreplay doesn't have to be one single category of things nor does it have to always follow the same rules. On the contrary, let's innovate. Let's do whatever makes sense at the moment and whatever we are craving. Sometimes, it's just some sweet soft kissing and hand holding and intense cuddles that lead to slow, lazy, perfect sex. And, sometimes, it's smack me against this wall and attack my neck till it's covered in hickies and eat me out and/or let me eat you out until we both cum and then we rinse and repeat and then we move on to fuck like rabbits because we are both dying for each other and we can't handle this anymore. Both are so valid, as is everything in-between~

*****

💙 Aftercare - How important to them is it? What kind of aftercare would they get the most gratification from, if any? (tagging @formaberserkir who also sent this one)

ㅤVery important! Aftercare marks the difference between fucking and making love, between casual someone you grabbed for a one-night stand and the love of your life you want to spend forever with. It's in the name: if you care for the person you are being intimate with, you will want to (after)care for them. Itachi, in fact, is a giver. He loves to spoil his partner and to provide acts of service, and aftercare is surely included in this. Let him gently clean you up, let him bring you water and some snacks in bed, let him brush your hair and bring you clean and comfy clothes, let him kiss you all over and tell you how amazing that just was.

ㅤAnd, in reverse, he always loves having it done to him. There isn't one single thing in particular that is his favorite, but it's always incredibly heartwarming to him when aftercare includes care related to issues that come with his chronic condition. A bit like what I mentioned above, in the "Orgasm" prompt. Simple things such as making sure he's stable before getting out of bed, keeping an eye on him for some time longer, wrapping him in a fluffy blanket if it's a cold day. And, like I mentioned for that prompt and even though he'd never admit to it, gratifying aftercare should also include letting him know how perfect he looks after you've had your way with him and turned him into a puddle of goo~

@fedua1era

[fiendishfinesse]

[breed.] sender fucks receiver deep and finishes inside. +reverse for Kikyo ((totally see him being in demon form to defile priestess just to be poetic))

tw ns//ft tw priestesses’ virginity stealer lmao

A blushing apple, begging to be plucked ───

His presence was a stain of infernal red against the whites of the priestess’s sanctuary. He had shed the human mask, opting instead for the honesty of the flesh. He held the priestess pinned against the very place she served, his towering frame a fiendish contrast to her delicate mortal shape.

Raphael adjusted his grip, claws hooking into the soft meat of Kikyo’s thighs.

“To think the Heavens would leave such a delicious morsel so. . . unguarded” his growl almost echoed his father’s cruel baritone.

He drove himself into her, cock a pillar that seemed to burn her mortals from the inside out. Scorching hot, but just enough to be pleasant, pairing oh-so well with the ribbed texture along the shaft. He relished the way her purity buckled under his imposing weight, eyes flashing selfish delight as the sanctuary’s candles died with a flutter of wings.

He was typically a pillow prince tyrant emperor, preferring worship. Still, the defiance of a virgin priestess ignited a hunger in him that stripped away his theatrical veneer. Movements grew feral, wings snapping open and shut.

As the pressure mounted, Raphael’s composure shattered into something messy. A brutish sound as he reached his climax, body thrusting with a violence that threatened to crack the stone beneath them. His seed, abundant and scalding like wyvern whiskey, filled her to the point of overflowing. A mess of red and white that he found aesthetically perfect.

He didn’t pull away when the tremors subsided. Instead, he stayed buried deep. Why, he should make sure she was thoroughly marked and bred by his essence.

He removed himself only to watch the thick fluid spill from her, before burying himself back to the hilt. Leaning forward, his forked tongue slithered out to lick the salt and sweat from her throat. The sight of her white priestess robes───now torn and stained ─── struck a chord within.

“Mmm. . .How utterly ungrateful of your gods to keep such a pretty vessel empty for so long” A clawed hand found itself tangled in long dark hair and pulled it ever so slightly. Another snaked between their bodies and so generously caressed her pretty, sensitive nub. “Are you in pain, my little doll?” not that he cared “Does it burn more to lose your sanctity, or to realize how much your body betrayed you for a devil’s touch? Look at yourself. You’re dripping. Marked and bred until you smell more of my perfume than your own incense.”

He ground his hips forward again, his tail coiling tightly around her waist to pull her closer against him.

“I think I’ll keep you.”

[solemnunderthemoon]

Through Darkness - Light Shines

Starter for @fedua1era !

The mountain pass had never felt so far from his reach.

He knew the path. It never changed, yet the ever-watchful darkness seemed to impede his escape at every chance it got. Halsin's destination settled beyond the black boughs and rotting trees, far past the memories of chilling wind and the black miasma of putrid death.

It was sickening. This place was not alive in any sense, yet he pressed forward in hopes of escaping.

Halsin had overstayed his welcome. Studious trips to these lands were risky to be sure, but an unfortunate crossing with the Absolute and its lackeys forced the druid to take a minor detour, straying from the beaten path while his enemies failed to pursue.

He hopes it was because they didn't see him. In reality, they just couldn't afford the blessing of light to chase a soon-to-be-dead elf.

Each step came heavier than the last. The archdruid's body felt anchored. Enchained. The swirling grip of the curse dragged his body down to the cursed earth. His torch could no longer provide warmth against the weight of darkness seeping into his flesh.

The air felt so cold.

Halsin knew the effects. The severity of the curse.

Haggard movement; pale skin; labored breaths; blackened, cursed veins; and an impending sense of DOOM. The curse had sunken its vile fangs into him.

And yet, his destination was in sight.

Shadows swam through the gloom. Blobs of varying shapes and sizes darted through trees and trailed him soundlessly as the archdruid finally noticed them.

Halsin's pushed onward, shambling as he kept his torch hand as steady as he could manage. The effort of moving lit searing pain through his body.

This was not a second wind that saved him, no. The elf was now running on pure instinct. He did not want to die. Not here, not yet. Not while his cause was still unfinished.

But his body eventually gave out.

The sight of branching roots and twisted trunks covering the mountain pass he came from was a horrid sight. The land denied him of an exit, as if to mock him for even trying. It was enough to break what little determination he had pooled as he stared in bewilderment.

"So."

His form slumped, kneeling as his head faced the ashen floor. He couldn't bear to look at the barricade, nor did he have the strength anymore to raise his head.

The torch, now dimmed, felt its life being snuffed as dark, wispy tendrils caressed the wooden shaft.

"This is how you would have it."

Perhaps he ventured too far this time.

[nigaihebi]

🐍 @fedua1era :     Kikyo glanced at the male and spoke softly. “I propose a double date. Giyu-San and I either Mitsuri and you.”

a   scowl   𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙   beneath   bundles   of   bandages   .     ❝   don’t   presume   you   know   what   kanroji   wants   .   ❞     he’ll   believe   it   if   he   hears   it   from   her   —   not   to   mention   . . .   he   doesn’t   want   tomioka   there ! !

[palesin]

@fedua1era liked for a starter ! ( For Kagura )

❝ Don't move too fast. ❞ Muzan murmurs, onyx clawed digits moving through the woman's raven hair as she slowly came to. . .A gesture meant to soothe as much as to command. ❝ The change can be overwhelming. . .sit with yourself⸻sit with yourself; take a breath and feel. The pain, it's gone. . .isn't it? ❞ His voice is measured as his hand drifts to cup her cheek, his thumb slowly dragging against her bloodied bottom lip. His scarlet eyes studying her expression as the paper lanterns cast a soft yellow glow.

❝ Once comfortable we can talk about the necessary things for survival. . .right now my priority is your comfort. You are my first after all. . .only fair I treat you as such❞ Muzan blinks slow, a smile resting effortlessly against his features as he gets comfortable at her side on the tatami flooring. Something about taking the woman's pain away was fulfilling, to be her saving grace and do what the gods themselves couldn't do for her. ❝ Tell me everything. ❞

[solxrflare-a]

@fedua1era ❤️'d for a starter! (Kikyo)

KNY Starter Call-Still Accepting (Albeit Limited)

When she had been in the Demon Slayer Corps, Giyuu didn't hate any time spent with her. She wasn't one of the more loud members, and he appreciated a shared silence far more than some of the more antagonistic Hashira. Nevertheless, he didn't waver when she had left-people did what people did, and the Demon Slayers would always push forward no matter the situation.

He was surprised then, to find that the demon who he had just finished off had dropped an arrow or two as it dissolved into the air. Giyuu had not been paying much mind to the enemy, more that he had been passing by the area and had sensed a disturbance. He had recognized the arrows-Kikyo's, if he was seeing them correctly.

And when he looked up as he sheathed his sword back at his side, his suspicions were deemed correct-there she was.

❝ ...It's been some time. You still fight demons? ❞ He asked, picking up the arrows and carefully handing them back to her.

[fallesto]

ANOTHER VICTORY FOR THE ROGUE PRINCE.

"The blood staining my boots isn't mine."

Daemon declared as he strode into the Great Hall, his words more of a provocation than a salutation. He disregarded the heralds' need to announce his presence and didn't bother to brush off the grime from the Stepstones that clung to his cloak. Instead, he advanced, the rhythmic clack-clack of his boots resonating against the stone, bringing with it the briny scent of salt and aged iron. His men trailed behind him in a disciplined hush, their expressions hardened and marked by the fatigue of a campaign that had concluded, bloodily, in their favor. He had shattered the blockade, reclaimed the shipping routes, and forged a victory from the jagged coastline that should have sent the bells of King's Landing ringing for an entire week.

Deep down, he understood the reality: nothing he accomplished mattered; he was always seen as the scum, the dirt, the second son. His efforts were in vain. His brother had chosen another to take his place, and so it was; they labeled him the rogue prince, a title he would fully embrace, alongside his dragon, who would ultimately hinder him. Despite his animosity towards his brother, the fact remained that his brother was the king, a reality that shifted many dynamics.

Only the king had the power to demand his head, and Daemon would persist in his ways, ridding the realm of bandits, scum, and the filth that his own brother had neglected.

With a sigh, Daemon's breath momentarily drowned out the cheers of the crowds beyond the Red Keep’s walls. It was a deep, rattling exhale that seemed to expel the last remnants of the Stepstones' salt from his lungs, leaving only the stale, suffocating aroma of incense and aged diplomacy. He glanced down at the polished marble beneath his feet, the blood he had boasted about was already congealing into dull, brown crusts and felt a stark, unsettling disconnection between the violence he had just endured and the sterile quiet of the court.

He had spent months sleeping on the sand and feasting on charred fish, all to secure a trade route for a city that regarded him as a necessary evil. As he slipped out of the parade, the celebrations and wished to be alone with his dragon, he did what no one else could do, he saved these kingdoms, while his brother sat there, he secured his place back in court, for today at least, but he did it all, to prove one thing, he was the better brother.

@fedua1era