#just by believing in his saint hard enough

[cheynovak]

Divine Part 2

Michael/Dean Winchester x F/Reader Y/N   

Warnings: 18+, Emotional damage, sexual tension, female orgasm, Family drama, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

-- 

*Does not follow The SPN storyline * 

--

Dean made the mistake of letting Michael take over his body. While Michael made plans on destroying the humanity he met up with different monster leaders, a few of whom he meets up in a jazz bar he started to appreciate or was it the waitress, Y/N.   

A spark of curiosity hit him when he the young spiritual woman crossed his path. Realising he might have more in common with humans than he wants. 

-- 

If it wasn’t for her body still feeling ‘blessed’ by his touch, she could have sworn the memories of last night were just a dream. Y/N’s eyes were still closed but she could feel the warmth of the sunlight shine on her face.  

With a deep breath she opened her tired eyes, her arms still held her pillow in a tight hug while the revelation of last night slowly slipped back into her mind.  

Michael... 

He was real and if he was real, so was everything else her father once preached about. God, the devil, heaven, hell, angels, everything. And although she believed, to her it all now seemed a bit more real.  

As she got up and walked to the bathroom, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her fingertips following the path where she had felt Michael’s touch.  

Her lips, the bright red colour they were last night, was now reduced to a soft pink stain. And while her fingers traced the contour of her mouth, she could have sworn she still feels the sensation of his angelic lips crashing against hers.  

With a deep sigh she closes her eyes, reliving last night.  

-- 

Y/N breathed heavy, unable to tear her gaze of him while he walked slowly back to her. His hand took its place back on her cheek while his eyes looked at her slightly parted lips. Her hand hold onto his side.  

Trying to understand all that happened, she felt scared yet excited, a rush she couldn't quiet explain. When Michael bowed closer to her, she didn’t move.   

And right before he closed the gap between them, placing his angelic lips on hers, he whispered: 

“Oh help me father, for I am about to sin.” 

Y/N felt how Michael’s hand gripped the back of her neck while his perfect lips locked on to hers. At first, she felt resistance from her body. Afraid of the all-powerful being in front of her. 

But the second she felt him against her skin, something inside her changed. The fear melted away, her heart flustered, and all the pain and old aches she once felt were gone.  

Michael could feel how her body went from clenched up with fear to devotion, leaning into his touch. He felt her hair in between his fingers. The taste of her lips was something he never experienced before.  

With a deep sigh he pushes her body against one of the pillars of the old church, unable to fight it any longer. His hand moved on autopilot, roaming her body, in need to feel her skin.  

Her fingers and nails scratched at his neck and the back of his head, pulling him closer to her. She could feel how powerful he was, trying so hard not to hurt her, trying to hold back just enough not to break her.  

His skin and touch felt strong like marble yet soft as a feather. And even though she knew he could snap her from exitance, she needed more of his touch. “Michael... Please.”  

The soft moan that escaped her lips sounded like a prayer he had never heard in all his years of existence, fuelling him on evenore. Within a second he pulled her towards the altar at the front of the church.  

He placed her against the ice-cold stone table, she leans against it, while he stood in front of her.  

Her thighs spreading without a thought when towered over her again, standing in between them. He was already taller than her, but this position made it feel like she was indeed looking up at a godlike figure, a saint. The lights behind him gave an extra touch to his presence.  

Y/N felt his hand moving closer to her core, moving her skirt higher while his lips kissed her cheek moving over to her neck. Hearing her whine for more.  

“Pray” he whispered in command to her ear. Y/N didn’t understand what he meant at first, “pray to me.” he repeated when she didn’t respond immediately.  

And then it hit her, he wanted to hear his name. Insync with the thrust of his fingers down deep inside her, she started to sing his name in a prayer. Her head fell back, his touch definitely felt divine.  

The more she chanted his name the more she felt the heat inside her boil. And when she was able to look back at his eyes, she saw that same beautiful glow again.  

She had no idea if it was his angel grace of just the mere fact that he was an exquisite lover, but she knows for a fact no one ever made her feel like this.  

Michael felt how her body reacted to his touch, already obsessed by the look of her. When he realised, she was about to burst with pleasure, he held her head still, forcing her to look at him when it happened.  

Her eyes pleading, her mouth slightly open while she screamed his name one last time. He took her trembling body and pulled her in his arms. His chin on her head, feeling the soft touch of her hair. That same parfum he got to love filled his nose.  

And as they stood there for a while, Michael’s sense came back like a lightning striking his core. Realising what he had done, how he had broken an absolute rule in a house of God.  

“Let me get you home.” he whispered more to himself than to her.  

--  

Y/N was at the point of closing up for the night when she spotted the familiar figure in the back. Her heart raced, no way it could be him.  

It had been weeks since she last saw him. After their moment in the church, he hadn't shown himself anymore in the bar, neither did he called or visited her. And although she never expected anything from him, it broke her heart.  

She took all her courage to walk up to him. “I’m closing.” she said before he could even look at her. “We need to talk.” he ignored her.  

He was stern in his presence and words. But so could she. “No, we don’t. I’m tired, I want to go home. Now leave.” Michael was surprised by her resolute answer.  

“I'm sorry?” his brows lifted when he stood up.” You’re forgiven, now go.” She knew damn well that was not what he meant. “What makes you think you can make me leave?”  

He could hear her heartbeat fasten. “When I say we need to talk, you listen.”  

A smirk curls on Y/N’s lips. “Just because you are an archangel, all powerful, whatever, doesn’t mean I obey you.” she took a step closer. “You don’t get to walk in, wanting to talk to me after weeks of not showing yourself.”  

Michael looked deep into her angry eyes, noticing a small flicker of hurt. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Y/N puffs “Like you don’t know.”  

“Other than that, why are you hurt.” Y/N looked confused after hearing his words. “You’re hurt because of something else and reflecting it on me. I know, I do the same.”  

“I’m nothing like you!” she spitted out like a poisonous venom and quickly turned away before he could see how right he was.  

After a short silence and feeling Michael’s eyes on her back she answered.  

“My father wants me to come home.” - “Aha. There we have it” was all he answered while she threw him a stone-cold look.  

Y/N’s hand were kneading the towel while she continued. “He claims to be ill. And he wants his daughters to be home before he...” she couldn’t even finish that sentence.  

“What are you going to do?” he asked taking the towel out of her hands, forcing her to look at him, while his fingers wrapped around her chin. Oh, he knew what she was going to do.  

“I’m going” she whispered. Of course she would obey his wish, Michael thought. “I’m just scared for the reaction of the towns people, or should I say... My family in particular. “  

Y/N took a deep breath “Anyway, you won’t be seeing me anytime soon.” Michael looked over her shoulder, she could see he was thinking. “Let me finish up some business in town and I'll come with you.”  

“W-what? Oh no, no no no.” She shook her head. “I don’t want you there.”  

And just like that he vanished, only thing she heard was the sound of his wings lingering in the air.  

-- 

Y/N arrived at her father place, it hadn’t changed in all those years she lived in the big city. It was Sunday and she was helping her father with his clothing. “Are you sure you are well enough to preach?”  

“Oh honey, not even the devil himself can stop me.”  

Once at the church Y/N noticed her old spot upfront next to her sisters was empty, even Luca the youngest was there. It shocked Y/N to see her, she must have drove in later this morning. Three out of the four were present. 

Her father started off by welcoming all, “Thank you all for joying us today. I see a few old and new face...” Y/N wasn’t able to concentrate on his words. She felt a presence in the air.  

A calm breeze washing over her.

A few minutes had gone by, her youngest sister leaned in. “I spy with my little eye a handsome new follower.” Y/N frowned, her eyes followed Luca’s eyes to the back corner of the church.  

Her breath hitched in her throat when she noticed him. “Michael.” she whispered in a silent breath, but clearly loud enough for him to hear. His eyes flicked over to her without even moving one bit and looked at her without any emotion on his face.  

“You know him?” Gabriella asked, Y/N opened her mouth still looking at Michael but before she could answer their attention was pulled back to their father.  

A gruesome cough escaped his throat, and he didn’t seem to get out of it. Y/N got up trying to let him sit down, offering him a drink, but it didn’t seem to work. Blood stained the napkin Gabriella offered him.  

Just as panic started to spread Michael placed a hand on their father. He pushed his head down and rubbed his back, pretending to ease him. “Slow breaths, don’t panic.” he said.  

Whatever he did, it seem to work. He looked at Y/N before his hand lets go of her father. She got up and wrapped a hand around his wrist. “How did you...” Michael could see gratitude in her eyes.  

Her father got up and broke their connection. “What my daughter is trying to say is, thank you.” Michael nodded “Who are you son? I don’t think we’ve met before?”  

Michael’s eyes moved back to Y/N, like he was saying it was up to her to introduce him to her father. “Eh, dad, t-this is Michael. He’s a... a friend.” Her family noticed how Michael’s brow frowned at the word ‘friend’.  

“A friend you say, well then, you are invited to have dinner with us.” - “Dad, I don’t think...” - “With pleasure” Michael interfered her.  

-- 

Later that night Y/N and her sisters joined their father and Michael who were talking and waiting for dinner at the table. Food had been served and Y/N was helping her dad.  

“So, Y/N where did you find a fine man like that?” Luca asked while smirking at Michael, who didn’t even seem a little interested. “Never thought you would ever bring a man home.” 

“Well, I never thought you would even be home, since this a, how did you call it, hellhole?” Y/N bit back.   

“Girls...” their father silenced them.  

Michael immediately recognised the tension.

Y/N took her place next to him and Gabriella, “How is Racheal?” I haven’t seen her in a while?” - “She decided to stay home tonight, leaving the newborn is quiet, difficult for her.” Luca said with a smirk. 

She knew very well no one informed Y/N she had recent giving birth. “She, she has a kid? Why did no one told me!”  

“Well, maybe if you came home some more you would have known.” Gabriella said softly. “If you want to be part of a family you need to see them.”

Y/N’s mouth hung open in shock.  

“You guys know I've been working my ass off to pay the bills, right? To pay for dad’s medical costs.” -” Y/N that’s enough.” her father said stern.

"Maybe if you came home more often dad wouldn't feel so bad.” Luca added to the fire. 

“Really?! You’re blaming me for dad’s health? Well, maybe if you didn’t ran off so often, or never took drugs or hadn’t give him reasons to worry all the time he wouldn’t be this ill either!”  

“She as just a kid Y/N. You were supposed to look out for her” Gabriella added. ”Oh, yeah sure defend her, again. By the way, where were you, you’re only a year younger than me!”  

“I was at collage Y/N!” Gabriella raised her voice. “Yeah, something I never got to!” Y/N matched her voice. “Because I had to work to get food and babysit the clone of Satan!” She her hand landed on the table.  

"Y/N!" her dad yelled.

“Y/N.” Michael’s voice sounded smooth in her ear. He placed his hand on her arm, an immediately rush of calmness floated over her body. But to her surprise she didn’t like it.  

“Don’t do that!’ she barked at him and stormed outside.  

Michael excused himself and followed her. “What’s wrong?”

She turned to him. ”Don’t play those mind games with me, Michael!” her finger pointed at his face. “I’m thankful you helped my dad out there but stop controlling my feelings!” 

Michael tilted his head, “When did you think I controlled you Y/N?” She huffed “Just now! Weeks ago, at the church, I was frightened of you, ready to run for my life... you forced me to stay!”  

“I never controlled your feelings.” -” Like hell you didn’t!” But the second those words left her lips she looked into his eyes, seeing he was saying the truth. “You really didn’t, did you?”  

So that means I'm actually falling for him... Great fucking choice in men Y/N, she thought.  

But instead, all she said was “Great.” noticing him walking closer to her. 

She needed answers from him, knowing why he reappeared after being gone for so long. “Michael, why are you here?” A deep breath escaped from him as his hands cupped her cheeks.  

His eyes roamed her face, like he was searching for something, “I sinned for you, I let my guard down, showed you who I really am.” He took a little break thinking about his next words.  

“You are the only human who gets under my skin.” 

”Why?” she whispered, feeling his warmth on her skin, unconsciously getting closer to him, leaning into his touch. “I don’t... know, and I hate it.” he said between his teeth.  

Y/N stood on her toes, her body moving without any thoughts given. Her hands moved over his shoulders to his neck. “Why do you hate it?” she whispered against his lips. 

Michael swallows, while he's feeling that same sensation rushing through his veins, just like it did last time. Trying hard not to give in.

“Because I love it.”  

-- 

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3 

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories. 

Taglist: -> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! 

@suckitands33 @mostlymarvelgirl @jackles010378 @k-slla @cassieriddle713 @deans-spinster-witch

#fanfic #jensen ackles #x reader #fluff #spn #dean winchester #jensen fucking ackles #archangel michael #supernatural #team free will #deanwinchester #dean x reader #smut #18+ only #18+ content #sexy tease #Dean/Michael

[appsa]

Ok jokes aside i do find damiens religion thing very confusing to parse thru cause its interesting that he finds a way to reconcile fantasy catholicism w his queerness but. Hm.

#him going to the 'west' (?) for missionary work and getting his ass kicked into a river... #and finding a connection to his saint in his own way. hm. #i do see the threads here that his father was strict abt fantasy bible ig and didnt approve of damien at all #and definitelyyyy got kicked out of that village for being weird abt it #and ig... the way magic operates in this world is also tied w belief so thats how damien is able to do extraordinary things #just by believing in his saint hard enough #and the fact that his saint has his own voice #hm. ig im having trouble w it because i find it difficult to not think of religion as a tool for oppression #but thats not the case for everyone #and ig this is a question everyone wrestles with right? #like what parts to keep and what parts to get rid of #we cant get rid of the whole thing like thats not feasible so how do we move forward #lol. idk. do they do interviews where they talk abt this stuff that is NOT behind a paywall #tpp #LOL i know nothing abt maintaining faith while also being queer sorry bsbsbjdf thats just a different perspective

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Virgin! Simon "Ghost" Riley

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Inexperienced! Simon, Virgin! Simon, Riding, Unprotected Sex, The Mask Stays On, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except 'You'.

Virgin! Simon who can hardly believe his luck as he watches and feels you ride him, your walls tight as you bounce on his cock, calling him your 'big guy'. His hands are on your hips, his own slamming up into yours in a rhythm you'd set for him.

He's sloppy. Unaccustomed to the euphoric stiffening of the knot in his stomach, pulling ever tighter with every slap of your ass against his thighs. Sure, he's had many an orgasm before, but never at the hands of another. Never so strong; a force of nature in its own right. He's breathing heavily - panting; you swear you can see him drooling from the corner of his mouth. Something viscous is filling you now. Not the full force of his seed, but a precursor to it. A warning.

The mask stays on (of course) during this exchange, but you can see the way he fights to keep his eyes open, to keep himself from betraying every sensibility and throwing his head back, screwing his eyes shut as his length is nestled inside you, a thick bump forming in your stomach with every thrust. Your hand slips down your front and you press it. Simon jolts, moaning between gritted teeth as you press, hard, harder still, forcing his cock into an even tighter position.

He's arching into you, the sensation of his veins and his bulbous tip throbbing against your insides enough to let you know that he's close.

You coax him. Goad him. "Y'gonna cum just for me, big boy? Gonna fuck me 'til I can't walk straight?"

He can't talk. Can't even think. For the first time in his life, he's fucked dumb. You can see it in the way his eyes roll back into his skull when you clench around him. Suffocate him. His hips stutter. His cock nudges something deep within you. You gasp.

It only took your calling him your "Good boy," to have him unravel before your eyes. He can't contain the strangled growl that is exorcised from him as he cums, deep and hard, thick, hot ropes of semen filling you. You can feel it, as if painting your insides white, bathing you in an unfettered warmth. His hands are cast-iron on your hips, pulling you down onto him as if to stop you from pulling away, to prevent even a drop of his seed from escaping you. He digs his heels into the bench beneath you, grounding himself.

And, as your orgasm sparks and ripples through you, you hunch over Simon, hands gripping his shoulders, squeezing him. You moan, long and loud, milking Simon for all he's worth. And now, between the sheets of his post-orgasm haze, he watches you, the ring of light above your head from the luminescent bulb of the changing room painting you as a saint in his eyes.

He's never going to let what you have - what you've shown him - go. No matter the cost. Not when this feeling of completion is steadfast within him, electrifying every fibre in his body, all the way down to his bones.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost cod #cod ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley headcanons #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley headcanons #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley smut #ghost smut #cod #cod x reader #cod smut #cod headcanons #mw2 smut

[blacknailsandheartbreak]

Imagine the group cannot understand how you and Zuko are so close with you being a literal saint and Zuko being... well Zuko

AN: I am back! Man, it's been a hot minute since my last post! ...Lets not think about that because I am back! :) woo hoo

~1400 word count

Part 2 once your done reading :)

SO, lets jump in and see what this Zuko fic about??? Well, imagine this...

The whole group is together and you are the newest member joining from an encounter at a local market. You'd travel alone from town to town, trying to help in any way you can to help fix the wounds the war had created. You fit in well, very polite and nice, never showing any anger, but very capable of defending your own with a bow. You became close with Katara, almost like sisters. Though, unknown to the group that you were a fire bender, you wished to keep that a secret. Your nation had done too much damage and could not bear to be tied to such a name. You hadn't practiced in a long time and were contempt on keeping it that way. You were good enough with your bow, you could protect yourself without the aid of bending. But one person saw through your mask, the only other fire bender in the group. You had a feeling he knew, as he was finding ways to spend more time with you, offering to walk with you to the market, to fetch water or wood, and he seemed to only ask you questions while it was just the two of you. If he did know you were a fire bender, then let it be so.

You volunteered one night to gather firewood, and Zuko promptly offered his assistance, in your nature you gladly accepted, you did like the company. While you two walked, you held a wicker basket against your hip and did most of the talking. Zuko hummed in response, keeping note of their far distance from the camp. As the conversation seemed to die out, Zuko stopped walking and you walked a couple more steps before realizing his halt. You turn around and lock eyes, both of you stand straight and still like statues. You knew what was coming next, your hair swayed slightly in the wind, the setting sun leaving amber shadows across you both.

"You're a bender, a fire bender." Zuko states, no question to his voice. You couldn't deny it, there was no point, he knew. You looked at him and smiled. You confirmed his suspicions, and explained to him that you have been building a new reputation for yourself outside of a fire bender label, trying to heal the brand the fire nation left on your skin as well as all its people and the ones it had affected. Zuko seemed sad, he apologized for his nation, our nation. He had promised things would change after Sozin's comet, once he overtook his father. You smile and agree that Zuko would make a fine Fire Lord, you talk to him about how much you believe can change. Ever since that night You two became close, very close. Close in ways the group could only suspect, but no proof.

On the last night of the Gaangs regrouping, before they had to pack up camp and keep moving, everyone had gone to bed, except for Zuko. He had a hard time trying to get to sleep that night, so he went out for a walk to try and clear his head. He sat by the nearby river and thought about what you had said, to rebuild a new reputation as to not be associated with the fire nation, start anew. Zuko balled his fists in anger at his country, the horrible things, unspeakable notions they had unleashed. Zuko scrunched his nose in disgust and felt the pull of his scar, a sensation that he was use to, one that would usually bring more frustration but only brought him sorrow tonight, as your words passed though his mind, 'trying to heal the brand the fire nation left on your skin as well as all its people and the ones it had effected'. Zuko felt the shame of his land pile on his shoulders, but he decided to head back to camp before he got too far into his head.

Back at camp, everyone was in bed, Toph slept alone in her stone tent, the boys had their own tent, while You and Katara shared a tent. Katara took a leap on that last night and decided to ask you about you and Zuko. She thought now would be the best time over any. Katara looked at you laying with your back to her, she gently poked your shoulder and you turned over.

"Sorry for waking you, but I had a question and I hope you take no offence, but you and Zuko... you guys have seemed to be getting very close... so um... are you guys... you know... together...?" Katara asked you in a quiet whisper with wide curious eyes.

While Katara spoke, Zuko had made his way back into camp and heard the faint whispers. It was unlike him to listen in on others' conversations but they had obviously not heard him return, and he seemed to be the topic of their subject so he decided it was fair game to listen. He caught on quickly as it was something about you and him.

You smiled and replied in a steady whisper, "Zuko and I have become good friends, nothing more." You and Zuko knew there was a bond beyond your secrets you shared, but you two were not together, just close.

Zuko had his arms crossed across his chest, he felt no offence towards the statement you shared, it was true, it was a neutral answer he could respect.

Katara responds "Oh okay... um if you don't mind me asking another question," You nodded her on, Katara continued, "Zuko and you seem to be very different, as in you are so... vibrant and kind, I don't think I have ever seen you mad." She said giggling quietly, and you smiled. "But Zuko... well you know Zuko, he only ever... scowls. Spirits, I think a smile might split his face in half..."

Zuko furrows his brows at the comment, and grabs across his mouth, 'I can smile', he thinks to himself, lowering his hand.

Katara continues, "and... and it's like pulling teeth trying to get him to talk..." Katara looks at you, "How do you- being your bubbly self, connect with someone like him? How can you talk with him for as long as you do when he seems to barely listens half the time?"

'Barely listen??' Zuko thought as his eyebrows shot up at the comment, 'Is she serious? How could she possibly think that!'

You smile at her observation, "Zuko is very kind to me," you say sweetly.

Zuko's face relaxes to your answer, and he uncrosses his arms.

You continue, "But you're right, he never says much, and yes, he is indeed quiet, but when one has gone through so much, it is understandable. We all know that feeling to some extent and we all have our ways of dealing with it. I have accepted how Zuko conveys himself as he had accepted me for how I present myself. But over all, yes, he does listen, even if it seems he is not, he always does." You conclude with a sweet smile.

Zuko is almost taken back from your answer in a way he cannot explain, but it feels as if an unknown weight has lifted off his shoulders from your response. He decided to leave the conversation there as he had heard all he needed to, and turned to walk away. But the next thing you said had caught his attention.

"Who knows," You add, "his ears are probably burning right now with the mere conversation of us talking about him...". You both giggle and say your goodnights. Zuko smirked and rolled his eyes and walked back to his tent. Although, as he replays the conversation over in his mind, something sits like a small rock in his stomach. 'Zuko and I have become good friends, nothing more.' Nothing more, he thought over and over in his head, maybe with time that could change. Once Zuko becomes Fire Lord and is able to start the change that the world needed to heal, you would embrace your bending and be proud of your nation. But that would come in time, so for right now, he could work with good friends.

#prince zuko #zuko #atla #zuko fanfic #zuko x reader #avatar zuko #avatar #avatar fandom #atla fanfic #avatar the last airbender #grumpy x sunshine

[yawnderu]

I feel like despite the way he feels about himself, Simon genuinely enjoys being praised by you. The way you look up at him after pulling out his cock, not even bothering to remove any of his gear and simply praising him for being so big and hard just for you could send him to an early grave.

Don't even get me started on the gentle kisses you plant from his face down to his thighs, the pure adoration in your eyes is nothing short of the way people look at saints when they're praying. He can feel his breath hitch, eyes stinging slightly yet he can't find it in himself to look away, despite how flustered it makes him to be the center of your attention.

I'm a true believer of Simon being a soft and tender lover, and that reflects in bed as well. He has enough violence in his job, so whenever he's deep inside you, his thrusts are slow and passionate, savoring just how good your cunt is, how deep you can take him, how it feels like you were made just for him in every single way. He knows he doesn't have to be embarrassed with you, and so he's free to whisper words of pure adoration and praise into your ears as he empties his balls all the way inside you, hoping that next time he comes from a mission, he can see your belly swollen with his baby, tits heavy with milk.

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #cod mwii #ghost mw2 #simon riley #ghost cod #ghost smut #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x you #simon ghost riley imagine #mw2 smut #mw2 ghost #mw2 #call of duty #mwii #call of duty mw2 #breeding k1nk #breed1ng #smut #stray talks mw

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I think Crowley falls into two of the classic pitfalls of people who see that the problems are systemic long before anyone else around them does: impatience and despair.

(Yes yes I know, “Crowley was an optimist.” Book Crowley is an optimist. I don’t think that line is particularly useful for analyzing TV Crowley. Stay with me here.)

Let it be said that 95% of the time, Crowley has the patience of a fucking saint (ssh don’t tell him) around Aziraphale. He knows that Aziraphale needs to build his little plausible deniability rationales in order to do something that they both know he wants to do (because it’s right or simply because he would enjoy it) but Heaven wouldn’t approve of. And most of the time, Crowley is happy to help Aziraphale get there, asking the questions Aziraphale is afraid to ask, offering excuses and justifications until Aziraphale finds one he can accept. He does a lot of work of parsing out when “no” means “you haven’t convinced me yet, keep trying” and pushing through all the “I’m an angel, you’re a demon, we’re on opposite sides and mine is the good one” talk that Aziraphale gets up to all the way through s1. Because he knows that Aziraphale doesn’t really believe that stuff, right? He just needs some time to talk himself around his own cognitive dissonance, and most of the time Crowley is not only happy to facilitate that but sees it as part of his role in their relationship.

But then when the chips are down and Aziraphale is still dithering, that’s when he gets frustrated, because HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE what’s been blindingly obvious to Crowley for millennia, that Heaven is just as cruel as Hell and no one is going to step in and fix it because the system is working as intended. And that’s when he says things like “how can someone as clever as you be so stupid?” Which is a surefire way not to convince the person you’re arguing with of anything.

And then there’s the despair. I really think the running away thing is not about cowardice or selfishness or some kind of unhealthy level of avoidance of hard or scary things, but about hopelessness. They’ve spent their lives avoiding very very real danger, and of the two of them Crowley is much more constantly aware of the danger that they are in from both sides. Yes he’s hypervigilant but he is also almost always right about the amount of danger they are in. Trying to get as far away from danger as possible is not an irrational response, even if it’s not always the correct one for a given situation.

When you feel like you’re the only person who sees how rotten the system is, how it needs to be dismantled entirely, but you are also VERY aware of how strong the people in power are and how ruthless they are about crushing dissent because you experienced it personally…well that gets fucking depressing after a while. Because even if you think the whole system needs to go, that feels like a completely unattainable goal when it seems like no one else even sees the problem, or if they see it, they are too afraid to do anything about it. And can you blame them? You know exactly what happens to people who speak up.

So it’s very easy for your goals to shrink from systemic change to just taking yourself and the people you love and finding somewhere for them to be as safe as possible, for as long as the system will let you exist. Because reforming the system is a fool’s errand, and dismantling it entirely seems impossible. I think this is where Crowley is at. Even if on some level he knows it’s an imperfect solution, because both of them have enough compassion that they would feel guilty abandoning Earth and humans to save themselves, and because Heaven and Hell really can find them anywhere in the universe. He just doesn’t see another option.

And look, I think Aziraphale is 100% wrong that Heaven can be reformed. But he is not wrong to want to stay and fight to make things better, even if it means sacrificing the Earthly comforts he loves so much, and even if it means doing it without Crowley by his side.

Ultimately they both need each other. Aziraphale needs Crowley for his willingness to ask questions and to see the scale of the problem, even if it’s terrifying. But Crowley needs Aziraphale for his hope, his stubborn determination to believe things can and should be better, and to fight for that. In the right hands, hope is an enormously powerful weapon.

#good omens #good omens s2 #crowley #my good omens meta

[peachsayshi]

(minors / blank / ageless blogs dni)

their past relationships, and how it hurt them:

gojo - was used for his status, his money, his power. he’s a pretty trinket to wave around, a commodity. objectified by his past lover, who he showered with love hoping for an ounce of return but never received it. he was begging for love, hoping it would come but it never did. he had to walk away - he was losing his mind. it was the only time he saw his lover fight for him. plead and cry for him. tell him they loved him. but he knew it wasn’t for him. it was because of everything else they would lose in the process.

geto - saw how they fell out of love with him. when his walls crumbled down and they finally felt the cracks on this romantic’s heart. he told himself being vulnerable would make the relationship stronger, but instead he saw the warmth leave their eyes. he’s irreparable, he thinks. too damaged for anything true. he showed no emotion when they said that he was complicated, when they didn’t have the patience to understand him wholeheartedly. after that, he swore he would never reveal his weaknesses again. he would never be naive with his love - and so he’ll keep it to himself.

nanami & higuruma - knows that their commitment is their love. that’s what they believed and because of their devotion, they trusted too blindly. when their lover betrayed them by carrying on an affair so deep into their relationship (by then they were either engaged or married) they were completely taken aback; shocked, and panicked over what they possibly could have done wrong. they were told that they were too cold, and too analytical in a relationship. that there was no passion or fire. they never saw themselves as rigid, never considered that their genuine love would be the reason why everything fell apart.

choso - he knew it wasn’t working; his former lover was different and he couldn’t fit in their world no matter how he tried. he was the thrill, the escape, the outlet that they needed for a taste of danger. choso simply couldn’t handle the thought of walking away. they claimed they loved him but he’s never felt more alone and would rather this than the latter. his brothers would tell him it shouldn’t be this complicated, and he struggled coming to terms with that. walking away was heartbreaking, and he was left wondering if he might ever experience something real with somebody who mattered.

toji - had love, which makes it so painful. the feeling coexisted with his every need, like the air he breathes and the water he drinks. she was his everything, his world, and his happiness. tragedy tore them apart, an illness that neither of them could see. he fought against the fates, screamed at the heavens above for trying to steal what rightfully belonged to him. and in the end, he lost the battle. he was left with only grief and memories. a broken heart that would never heal the same again.

sukuna - was told he was hard to love. he never claimed to be a saint but he didn’t consider himself a brute or a beast either. navigating romance wasn’t his strong suit, but it’s not like he wasn’t willing to put in the effort. that he wasn’t willing to try. however, nothing was ever enough. nothing he ever did seemed to work. every attempt blew up in his face, so he eventually just stopped trying. what was the point anyway, if he was difficult to love? he might as well stop pretending like he deserves it.

#jjk hcs #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #Gojo x reader #gojo headcanons #geto x reader #geto headcanons #nanami x reader #nanami headcanons #higuruma x reader #higuruma headcanons #choso x reader #choso headcanons #toji x reader #toji headcanons #sukuna x reader #sukuna headcanons #jjk angst

[bunicate]

mimi i wud die for sum wrio incest ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ i need nii-nii to punish his lil sis when she starts actin up and disobeying ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ pairing ꒱ྀི wriothesley x fem reader — warnings ꒱ incest. fucking in leggings. calling your big brother daddy ? creampie. reader is described as small / 18+

i kept u waiting long enough and Im not sure but I may have strayed a witl bit from whut u said but still ! ! wrio-nii <3 muhehe . some icky thoughts and babbling below nonnie.

believe it or not wriothesley doesn’t necessarily enjoy punishing his little sister, but that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to it, especially if you’ve been seeking a less-than-innocent reaction out of him. 

it crushes him to say it, but wriothesley knows that his chilling title as duke at the fortress of meropide doesn’t grant him the same freedoms as others. he’s an overseer, a self-appointed role that he carved himself. part of it is to maintain order; the other half is maybe to fulfill his own sentence and snuff out any remnants of the guilt he couldn’t shake off.

naturally, he’s a protector whose hands happen to be bloodied. if it meant guaranteeing the safety of his little sister, he’d fight his way through anything, even if it meant bruised skin and broken bones. to be at the fortress while you remained in the world above was, to say the least, hard, but he’s working around that obstacle.

its some days, like today ( though rare on occasion ) he takes a well-deserved break.

a long shower, a couple of hours in the at home gym to stay dedicated, and then he promises afterwards that he’s all yours. maybe a picnic, a stroll through the town, a shopping trip—whatever you set your sights on, he’d do it; he’d get it because he has the patience of a saint, but that just happened to be the one thing you lacked.

your attempts at seducing him were messily orchestrated. adorable, and innocent, and his cock strained against his sweatpants nonetheless.

wriothesley’s bare chest expands with each deep breath he takes, greedily sucking up the air to calm his lungs and beating heart after he drops his weight.

though away from the world below, he doesn’t stray from his regimen. even when darling little girls strut in loungewear not even appropriate enough to wear in their own homes, offer him water.

he downs it—gulps it incredibly fast and wipes the remnants of water that escape on the back of his hand. he sets the glass down, and he knows that water isn’t the only thing his body is aching for.

the clothes are practically second skin, your nipples are puffy and alert under your shirt from the air conditioning, and the leggings are tight enough to emphasize the chub of your lower lips.

“why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

it’s a silly question he doesn’t bother to answer.one foot behind the other, hands intertwined, you give him that a stare that reveals more than you let on. your tongue delicately swipes your bottom lip, and his eyes follow. he watches closely when your lips do that small bounce from the release of your teeth.

he wants to wipe that doe-eyed look off your face and rip the flimsy pants off. maybe even ruffle up your pretty pigtails, but you’d hate him if he did. yet, it’s only fair for him to tease in return, and wriothesley isn’t too keen on enforcing discipline. but if you want it so bad, he can’t see why he can’t be voracious just this once.

it takes him only a split second to wrangle your body to the floor and push your cheek into the plush mat. he’s pumped with adrenaline; his brute strength nearly knocks the wind out of you.

those fingers that you love so dearly trail down your hips and backside to finally press down on the seat of your leggings—right where your cunt sucked in the fabric. just two of his digits encompass the size of your heat, and they trace the sticky folds through the cloth. your grip on the mat tightens, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

he roughly rips open your leggings, the sudden exposure to air making you gasp. it’s a wide enough hole to display your plump ass and fat little pussy to his icy blues. such thick, succulent lips dressed in a thin layer of your slick that he wanted to lap up selfishly.

his large hand reels back and collides with the flesh of your butt watching it jiggle.

“hnn— !”

your body lurches forward on impact, and wriothesley flexes his thick arms to keep you still.

“shh, shh. s’okay.”

he rubs the fat of your butt briefly before landing another swift strike.

you squeal, “nii-nii! p-pleaseee !”

the arch in your back deepens, and wriothesley licks his lips in anticipation at your show of embarrassment.

“this is what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

he’s dizzy from the sight of your gaping cunt, and he can’t tell whether to spank it, fuck it, or kiss it first.

ultimately, he decides on spitting.

he puckers his lips, and a tiny glob lands right in the center of your pussy, and he eagerly stares as it disappears between your plump folds.

you flinch away reactively from the moist invasion, scrambling on the floor, but your brother overpowers you.

“come on, don’t run from me now, you little brat.” his hold on you tightens, forcing your ass higher up.

wriothesley begins to tug his pants down and pull out his heavy cock. it’s thick and drooling pre-cum from his wide tip, eager to empty his load inside your tiny hole. he gives it a few strokes and watches you wiggle your butt in excitement.

“put it in nii-nii. i'm so messy down there, so you don’t need’ta prep me. . .”

a manicured nail runs down your slit and separates your fold, and nothing but arousal webs across your twitchy cunt.

“fuck .” 

you are messy.

you’re dripping and creaming, and he’s barely started. he takes his own thumbs to spread your lips apart further, like he couldn’t believe it himself. your vagina thumps erratically, pumping out a bubbly, clear fluid. the squelch is disgustingly loud, and he has to fight himself from collecting the salty drops with his tongue.

he whistles in agreement.

“would you look at that? i guess you’re right. this needy cunt can take my fat cock. ”

he's holding his breath when he presses it against your quivering center.

“i always thought you were too little to take it, but your pretty pussy is more than ready for me.”

he rubs the softness of your skin in awe.

you turn your neck slightly to give him a shy smile. “mhm, s’ only for you. . but,” you shake your hips again. “could you put it in, please?”

slick was now stuck between your thighs, staining your already ruined leggings, and you felt dirty, but not enough to overpower the desire to be fucked by your older brother. you were practically humping the air in utter want, but wriothesley doesn’t match your urgency.

“i’m trying, sweetie, but—” the duke makes no effort—he wipes his sloppy mushroom head on your clit, dragging it in messy circles.

“nii-nii is having trouble.”

his pre-cum frothed into a cloud coating your already wet lips, and he hisses when your pussy briefly twitches around his glans. he nudges your opening teasingly but doesn’t bother to push his way through the tight seam.

he shakes his head in faux remorse.

“see, i guess you’re still too little after all."

you throw a small fit, “that’s not true! i can take it!”

he chuckles at your pouting. the hold on your ass digs into your skin as a warning to not get so worked up.

"then what do you suppose we do?”

he spits again, but this time on his shaft, and he drags his hand up just enough for his foreskin to cup the crown of the flushed tip.

"jus’ ruin it—force your cock in. .”

and he didn’t need to be told again.

two beautiful holes, a tight little knot that he can’t wait to split apart one day, and a wet and fat pussy. was he even strong enough to tough it out a little longer?

he looks up towards the ceiling, muttering a brief prayer. you just might kill him, but he's more than ready.

the tight fist around his member squeezes until a thick drop of white plops against the floor. his balls firm and round flutter with every gasp of air you take. his body is in sync with yours, and as soon as his tip pushes against your opening, it stretches—coaxing in his meaty girth. he pushes all the way in until he's sure he can’t go any deeper, and then pulls back out. his cock shines with your wetness, and he takes a few seconds to marvel at where your groins meet.

without warning his hips to mount forward, and he fucks you with purpose—to teach a lesson.

his pace is far from what you predicted; it's much faster and filled with a vigor you weren’t used to. your big brother prefers to handle you with much more care, knowing that you're just a delicate little thing, but he trusts you’ll get used to it.

you proved time and time again to be adaptable, so you keep your ankles crossed and your face down, smushed into the floor, while he uses your body for his own end. his balls, warm and taut, spank your clit unabashedly, turning the screw inside of you. a ring of milk forms at the base of his cock, and the friction pulls noises out of you you didn’t think you were capable of making.

you move to crawl away and put some distance, but wriothesley doesn't let you.

“nah, be still; let nii-nii use you. that’s what little girls are supposed to do, right?”

he laughs, maybe even out of disbelief. each time he tries to convince himself that it will be the last, he still finds himself forcing his cock inside his cock-hungry little sister. and your moans only elevate in pitch as you get closer to that edge.

“yesssss. ah !—hn—you can use me as many times as you want. m'your little stress toy!”

wriothesley grunts loudly. the sound of your lustful proclamations rattling his very being.

“I'm your little girl. keep fuckin’ me, please, nii-nii.”

he doesn’t want to stop.

the recoil of your round ass from the impact of his thrust is a view too otherworldly for him to separate his eyes from. his body accumulates more sweat, and he continues to deliver those fucks that pushes you harder into the floor. your leggings, other than the gaping rip, were thoroughly obliterated, and the mixture of fluids made the fabric darker and stickier.

“! m’almost there, keep going nii-nii. . . s-so close !”

a foggy cloud slows the whirrs in his brain; all of his thinking ceases, and the only thing he can focus on is finishing inside you. to empty his large balls of his salty seed and pull out more of those choked sobs out.

“s’okay baby. relax . i got you.”

“hnn-! hiccup . mmkay ! i love you s’much."

“yeah, nii-nii loves you too, baby. don’t fucking forget it.”

"i won't, d-daddy.”

he stills only for a moment before continuing.

“daddy ? what are you talking about, silly girl?”

he snickers in between moans and claps of skin. did he fuck you that dumb already?

“I’m your brother princess, don’t tell me you forgot.”

you pulse around his cock.

“mhm, but you’re my daddy too.”

he rolls his eyes and smiles.

“i guess i have a pretty daughter to take care of now,” he says and he’s rewarded with your cute mewls and noises of happiness.

he’d kill for you.

again.

he’s a man free of guilt when he’s the closest to you, and it’s why he feels no shame when he delivers one last thrust and pumps your pussy full of his hot semen.

you welcome it, feeling it fill your belly and it takes few minutes for wriothesley to separate himself from you. the minute he pulls out is when he feels robbed of your warmth, he feels naked but satisfied. his cock layered with thick cum fell limp between his legs and he feels relief that his balls were no longer aching with cum ; it was instead leaking from your puffed cunny.

his hands reached out to touch your sensitive pussy, squeezing it to watch the dollops of his seed drip on the gym mat. your legs shake in desire and it’s when reality sinks in.

you didn’t finish and wriothesley makes no move to get you off. he smirks, he’s sure that this time his punishment will keep you in line.

although, only for a bit .

#tw:incest #૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x you #wrio smut #wrio x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #female reader

[abyssruler]

cupid’s chokehold

pairing/s: cyno, diluc, scaramouche x gn!reader

summary: it’s simple, really. one moment you’re laughing, the light of the sun brightening your features, and the next his heart is beating out of his chest, face warm and breaths short, an almost pleasant twist to his gut when you lean close. you look at him with fondness dancing in your eyes, and he realizes, oh, he might just be in love. or — the moment they find out they love you.

note: this is really just an excuse to write diluc being whipped, also this was supposed to include childe heizou and xiao but i lost motivation so here ya go!

CYNO

He finds it hard to believe that you’d be so incapable of writing a simple essay. You once admitted to him how you only got accepted into the Akademiya through sheer luck, but he didn’t believe it then. The Akademiya is known for its strict rules and thorough examination of every student it takes on.

But seeing you struggling not to plagiarize an essay is truly pushing his patience. He’s not one to snap or bark out harsh words to those undeserving of it — and he can think of no one more undeserving of his wrath than you — but it is frustrating to watch you stumble even at the easiest of assignments.

“I think I’ve got it! Oh, I made a little mistake on the spelling there, but this is the one that’ll blow my professors away! Cyno, can you proofread this for me?”

He’ll tell you later that he didn’t mean it, and you’ll accept it without hesitation with an accepting smile — but right now, the searing sun made worse by the humid weather makes a short fuse even for the most patient of saints.

“If you can’t do something so simple, then I see no point in partaking in this fruitless endeavor. The Akademiya is harsh and has no room for error, you would be better off leaving than continue struggling futilely.”

He didn’t mean to come off so harsh, as if he’s belittling all your hard work and effort and telling you that you don’t belong in the Akademiya. But the damage has been done, and your hopeful look turns into shock at his outburst, retreating into yourself and quickly retracting the paper you’d been in the middle of handing out to him. Your face closes off, clutching your essay close to your chest and darting your eyes anywhere but his general direction.

“Sorry,” you say, awkward and fumbling, resolutely not meeting his eyes, “For being annoying, among other things.” Then, you rise to your feet abruptly. He can see the way your fingers are clenched tightly at your paper, tight enough to wrinkle the edges such that he knows you’ll regret later for ruining yet another paper. “I won’t bother you again.”

Your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, almost sounding choked off. You turn and give him a brief glimpse of your face, and he realizes that you’re on the verge of tears.

He catches your arm just before you can take a step forward. “Wait.”

You freeze, muscles tensing beneath his touch. He instantly releases you after he feels how uncomfortable it must have made you. The silence between you is so tangible he can almost see it permeating the air, cloying and thick and utterly unwelcome.

He parts his mouth a few times, going through every possible scenario where he says the wrong thing that pushes you to the edge and makes you hate him forever. The mere thought is enough to steal him of his breath. No, he can’t have that, can’t bear the thought of a world where you aren’t there greeting him brightly in the morning and being so shameless as you fall into step beside him despite his rank and engage him in idle chitchat. He doesn’t think he’s ever told you before, but he looks forward to that part of his day the most.

After what seems like eons of standing in silence, he finally speaks. But what comes out of his mouth isn’t the apology he rehearsed in his head.

“Why did the bike fall over?”

You turn to him with an almost incredulous look, eyes wide with unshed tears that he berates himself for. Then, hesitantly, you ask, “…Why?”

The response comes naturally to him, years of reading through his notes and making them himself has all but ingrained such information in his mind.

“Because it was two tired,” he delivers this with a straight face, tone flat and completely at odds with the nature of his joke.

You stare at him for a moment, lips parted in surprise at the sudden joke. He sees your grip on your paper loosen, shoulders relaxing, mouth twisting into something he can’t quite discern, and then—

“Pft.” It starts out small, quiet as you bring a hand to cover your mouth, before it dissolves into a full blown laugh, the kind that has your shoulders shaking and eyes closed, head tilted back and the sound of your laughter filling his ears. He’s never considered that laughs could produce such pleasant sounds, so it comes as a surprise when yours makes something in him want to lean forward to hear more. Or perhaps it’s just you.

The light from the sun bounces off your skin, making your expression all the more radiant.

And Cyno? Cyno doesn’t think he’s ever seen such a mesmerizing sight before.

You’ve never laughed at his jokes, or rather, he’s never seen fit to tell you any of them, seeing as you’ve always been so at ease around him that telling a joke was never necessary. He’ll have to rectify that, he thinks, watching the way your mouth curves up in a smile, eyes dancing with mirth as you finally meet his eyes.

And he’s suddenly struck by the thought of how much he likes seeing you like this — hair mussed from the wind, exhilaration lining your lips, breaths short from laughing too hard, and gazing at him in delight.

And maybe he’s overthinking things too much, maybe the pounding of his heart and the sudden intake of breath is a result of something else, but he wants to believe it’s because of you.

Later, he’ll come up with a proper apology, something a little less joking and a little more serious. But right now, you’re looking at him like he’s the only person in the world, and that’s all that matters.

DILUC

The sun is particularly hot today, bordering on sweltering, but still, you insist on accompanying him in this menial task of picking grapes.

Diluc has always preferred solitude since he came of age, doing things alone and being lost in his thoughts have become things that he finds strangely pleasant, almost calming. But you’ve never been one to settle in silence, always needing to voice your thoughts and fill the room with chatter about all sorts of topics. It’s something he should dislike, all things considered due to his preference for quietness, but you, he finds, have always been an exception to what he considers the norm.

He wonders why.

“And just then, a hilichurl comes out of nowhere and starts throwing rocks at me — rocks! They have crossbows and shields and those battering things, but that one chose to use rocks to attack me! It’s like he thought I wasn’t even worth the effort!”

He idly plucks a group of ripe grapes from a vine, listening to you retell your encounter with a hilichurl that led to you discovering its camp that held a precious chest, only to open it and find nothing but cabbages. You bemoan how it was a total waste of effort, all that fighting just for a few pieces of vegetables you don’t even like.

A small, amused smile flits its way into his lips. It doesn’t escape your notice.

“So you think my suffering is funny, huh?” You narrow your eyes at him.

He turns away and briefly considers the merits of admitting to smiling, not at your plight, but at the various inflections in your tone as you regaled him with your story and the little laughs you let out when you got to a funny part and the way you looked at him with a smile so wide it crinkled the corners of your eyes, reflecting the light from the sun in its near-blinding intensity.

When he turns back to face you, he’s met with fingers on his lips and something small and round being pushed into his mouth. His teeth bites down into it, tender and sweet. A grape, he realizes, meeting mischievous eyes set upon a face that’s full of promises for future teasings and pranks.

The pads of your fingers are soft against his lips. His eyes wander against his will, landing on your lips twisted into a smirk, and his mind conjures an impossibly dangerous thought. Perhaps your lips would feel softer against his.

And then heat is creeping up his skin, searing red across his neck that reaches his cheeks and stops at the tips of his ears.

It’s nothing ostentatious. Not like the stories told in books where they meet each other’s eyes across the room and falter as their hearts beat as one, where they meet in the carnage of a battlefield, offering each other’s hands and knowing without a doubt that they will only ever have their backs for each other until the day they die. It’s not even one where he holds your hand and feels the way his heart leaps at the contact as he realizes what it might mean.

But this is still as meaningful, still as beautiful, suspended in time and carved in stone upon his memories until the winds of time erode it away.

A gentle breeze blows past you, and he catches the barest hint of a scent that consumes his mind and fills it with thoughts of nothing but you and your fingers lingering on his lips and how he’s never wanted to kiss a person more than he does now.

And oh, oh.

It’s a fanciful thought, but he imagines if his life were to become a book, then it should be one with an ending that intertwines with yours.

He considers that, for such a book, it would begin like this — the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and Diluc Ragnvindr is in love.

SCARAMOUCHE

If Scaramouche were the kind to think thoughts that would have him put below the pedestal he’s placed himself at, he’d think there must be something wrong with him.

“Did you really think you could have defeated those monsters all on your own? You’re lucky I was nearby, otherwise you’d be nothing but a bloody splatter on the ground.” His words are as harsh as ever, carrying that biting tone that’s labeled him unapproachable and unlikeable to most anyone — that is, most anyone who isn’t you.

He doesn’t understand you, the reasoning behind your actions and words and generally everything about you that makes you so infuriating. It grates at him, not knowing something, especially when that something pertains to you. Though why that would even matter is beyond him.

You smile at him, a sheepish little thing, utterly unrepentant and unaware of the possible consequences your actions could have brought. Not that he cares if anything happens to you. He’d just rather not deal with the trouble of handling your papers should you die under his service.

(That was, admittedly, a very weak argument that he’ll chastise himself for later. A Harbinger would have more pressing work to do than handle every paperwork about a dead subordinate. Not that the fact about him handling your papers upon your death was untrue, only that it’s only your paper among his countless other subordinates who’ve died that he’ll bother doing.)

Your mask fell off somewhere in the middle of that rather pathetic fight. It’s a breach of protocol to not be wearing your mask while on duty, but Scaramouche chooses to ignore that particular rule. He’s a Harbinger, he’s the one who decides the rules. Having to order you to go fetch your mask to put it back on would be a waste of time and effort. Much more efficient to simply speak this way, he reasons. It’s most definitely not because he wants to see your eyes and the myriad of emotions that pass through them. And even if it is, it’s only a way for him to better read your expressions and discern whether you’re lying or not. He can’t have anyone betraying him the Fatui.

“I apologize, my lord. It seems I’m still unaccustomed to my new uniform.” Your voice carries a sort of lilt to it that makes it more tolerable than most people he’s ever spoken to. It’s not a compliment, lest his mind go against him and begin creating false narratives, it’s an observation rooted in fact. The sky is blue, the stars are false, and your voice isn’t unpleasant to listen to.

He does frown at your explanation. “Unaccustomed? It’s hardly that different from your previous uniform.” He would know, of course, he spent hours watching you in it. Not that he was watching you simply for the sake of watching, no, never, he was merely criticizing your choice of color scheme and the scuff marks and dried blood that never quite went away no matter how many times you washed it. You’ve complained to him enough times about it in a way that no subordinate should to their lord, but he was in a good mood then, so he let it slide… among countless other things he let slide.

You pull at the collar of your uniform. “It’s a bit constricting. I think they may have gotten my measurements wrong—”

He scoffs, crossing his arms and narrowing his eyes. “And you didn’t think to tell me? What use would I have for a recruit who can’t even move properly because of a tight uniform?”

“Well, you did tell me not to bother you anymore with my inane concerns, so I figured you wouldn’t want to hear about this…my lord.” The last part is added almost as an afterthought. He decides to let it slide.

He does recall something along those lines, sometime when he was in a foul mood and had no patience for your presence and the contradictions it brought in his behavior. He remembers being lost and dumbfounded the next day when you turned to leave after giving your report instead of lounging on his office’s couch and telling him about your day and the gossip you recently heard. He hadn’t actually meant for you to stop talking to him, but he was too proud to say so to you, which resulted in a week of silence on both parties. It was completely unbearable, but Scaramouche would sooner cut his own head off than admit it.

“Fine. You’re allowed to speak such drivel to me again, since you clearly can’t function without any sort of assistance from me.” It’s easy to twist the situation as if you’re the one who’s been dying to talk to him normally again instead of the other way around.

You laugh beneath your breath, something bordering on a giggle — a giggle, of all things. The last time someone had the audacity to giggle in his presence was…was a long time ago. Something he won’t dwell in.

“If you insist, my lord,” you say, an almost teasing twinkle in your eyes, and Scaramouche has never been more grateful exasperated that you aren’t wearing a mask. Who do you think you are to show such an emotion like happiness in front of him?

He’ll let it slide though. Just this once.

“Let’s return to the camp. I don’t want to be seen any longer with you looking the state you are now.” He deliberately ignores the fact that people will only see the two of you together once you’re back and not at this lone clearing. You turn to place your mask back on and he lets you. Wouldn’t do much good to have others see your face and plot whatever nefarious schemes their minds will cook up, like talking to you or, gods forbid, flirting with you—

And then he stops, completely frozen in place and unable to hide that shock that bleeds through his carefully crafted mask. He’s lucky you’re standing behind him, otherwise he’d have to kill you for seeing him in such a state. Not that he believes he’ll be able to go through with it, but the thought is needed though not necessarily appreciated.

He turns to you after he’s gotten ahold of his expression, eyes scanning your features and, with an almost sickening lurch in his stomach, finds that you’re not exactly unpleasant to look at.

Your hand reaches out for his arm with worry, and he nearly reels his hand back at the sheer audacity you have for assuming he is someone who needs worrying for but—but.

He rather likes the feeling of your fingers brushing against his skin.

So he lets you close your hand around his arm and look at him with through a mask he knows harbors a concerned look behind it. He nearly laughs at the notion of someone being concerned for him, but alas, you’re such an anomaly that even he can’t bring himself to mock even the worst trait you possess.

You are truly the most vexing person he’s ever had the displeasure of meeting.

Perhaps if you keep touching him like this, he’ll let that one slide too.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #cyno x reader #genshin cyno x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #gn reader #serious x airhead

[elaichoi]

W/C: dubcon, voyeur taehyun, not proofread.

imagine you're watching a movie with your best friend! taehyun and suddenly feel so horny that you have to make constant trips to the bathroom to try to her the edge off just a little bit and hang on until the movie ends and you two retire to your beds. but as the seconds pass, it gets more and more unbearable to hide the itch between your legs. it's like your womanhood was begging for you to pay attention to it, your hands involuntary pressing against the area ever so slightly release a the tension, but all it did was make it worse.

you think you're being discreet. pressing your legs together to alleviate the pressure, or perhaps slyly putting one of the throw cushion between your legs while you look out for taehyun from. the corner of his eyes. he seems unbothered—his eyes zeroed in on the tv screen.

you think you're safe, but little did you know taehyun had caught onto your little fidgeting act from the second trip from the bathroom. he wanted to ask you whether you were okay or not but that's when he caught you in the act—the cushion between your legs, slightly making up and down movement and that raunchy look on your face illuminated by the dim light of the tv.

taehyun's dick reacted faster than he could, slowly hardening as he watched you rock back and forth as barely inaudible gasps left your open mouth as well curses. he couldn't believe he was watching his best friend get off but the hand on his own dick had brought him to the reality that he himself was no saint. he has been touching himself while spying on you —but was it really spying if you were literally a few steps away from him rubbing your dirty little sopping cunt onto the cushion. taehyun grabbed his dick tightly, all he wanted to do is replace that wretched lil cushion with his dick. he wouldn't push it right away. he was gonna rub his hard dick on your wet pussy until you begged him put it in you.

taehyun wished the room was a little more brighter so he could see how wet you were. we're you soaking up the pillow like your flimsy pajama and the panties were wet? wished he could hear the sound your wet cunt made as it was rubbed back on forth, but the most he wanted to listen his skin on yours.

he watched you come. your hips slightly raising above the couch and twitching incessantly. a small moan left taehyun's mouth but he covered it up by a cough and you gave him a lazy smile.

he doesn't know whether you knew he was watching or you were oblivuous enough to not notice his eyes on you in the darkness as you got yourself off on his living room, beside him. taehyun was off his rockers.

before he could gauge his own thought process, he had gotten up—the tent in hsi pants now visible and sat between your legs, removing the cushion from your pussy to see if you had made a mess out of pajama or not.

"taehyun what are you doin?" taehyun ignored you, staring intently on your pussy and picked up his phone to turn on the flash and hold it over your womanhood.

now he could see the wet spot clearly and it made his mouth water.

"could i taste you?"

#taehyun smut #txt x you #taehyun x you #taehyun hard imagines #taehyun #taehyun x reader #txt smut #txt hard thoughts #taehyun hard scenarios #taehyun hard thoughts #taehyun hard hours #txt hard imagines #txt hard hours #txt hard scenarios

[nightingalescall]

Prelude to Pandemonium

Kingdom of Ebreau:

prologue|part 1|part 2(you are here)

"I can't breathe, Zephyr..."

You panted as you posed for the ending, your legs trembling beneath you from the exhaustion and the lack of oxygen. You've been repeating this sequence for the past several days but it just doesn't get easier, not with your access to air hindered.

Zephyr sighed, his eyes closed. "I'm sorry, Lady (y/n) but this is standard protocol." You went back to standing normally as you lifted up your veil, revealing your sweat-filled face.

"How... How did you do this without fainting?" You expressed your confusion and astonishment at Zephyr as you tried to catch your breath. Zephyr walked closer, his hand holding a towel before using it to wipe your sweat away. "I struggled just as much as you did, Lady (y/n). In fact, you're doing much better than I did in the past." He smiled reassuringly.

"You're not saying that just to comfort me, are you?" You questioned skeptically as you took the glass of water he handed you before taking a sip. "It's the truth." Zephyr reassured, patting your head.

You nodded and handed him back the glass, believing him. "It's just...So hard to breathe with this on and dance at the same time." You complained under your breath. Zephyr reached towards your hair and took off the veil. He fiddled with the fabric in his hands, appearing to be thinking.

"...I'll get someone to make some last minutes modifications." He finally said after some silence. "Is there enough time? The ceremony is tomorrow night." You knitted your eyebrows together, unsure about his suggestion.

Tomorrow night, you will meet with the Royal family of Ebreau for the first time. From what Zephyr told you, you will be given a ceremony similar to the ones they hold for the initiation of newly appointed saints to celebrate your arrival in Ebreau. At the same time, it will serve as your debut to the public eyes. During the ceremony, the Royal family will give you their blessings as a welcoming to the kingdom. Then, they will impart to you their hopes for further collaborations. In response, instead of words, you will perform the Dance of Resonare Auream to answer their call.

According to Zephyr, the Dance of Resonare Auream replicates the movements of high priests from ancient times when they performed rituals to initiate a connection with Calerus in order to seek answers from him. Their movements during these rituals were modified and implemented into this dance. The Dance of Resonare Auream is only performed by saints during their ceremonies as a way to pledge allegiance to the Royal family and symbolises a saint's role as a bridge between the divine and the mortal world.

Being the saint of the temple of Sonnet, it comes without saying that Zephyr also performed this dance at his initiation years ago. Although there are some differences between the male and female counterparts, it's still mostly the same so Zephyr became your temporary mentor and guided you though the dancesteps. The dance wasn't hard in terms of its steps, simple but still elegant and graceful. The difficulty came from the odd tempo of the dance music. It would pick up and slow down suddenly at times, not to mention there are pauses in the music which needed you to count the tempo so you wouldn't come in late or early.

The added on challenge of having to do all that with a veil on was not fun, to say the least. All you've been doing the past week or so was trying to perfect these steps and making sure you were on beat while also ensuring you don't faint during the dance. The ceremony tomorrow night was opened to all citizens to attend. Thousands of eyes will be on you then and you don't intend on making a fool of yourself. What would the people think of their Messiah if you did?

The pressure was on. You needed to do well.

You sighed internally.

If only the veil wasn't part of the standard ceremonial uniform... It'll be one less thing to worry about without it.

Zephyr held up the veil between both of you, drawing your attention back to him and temporarily obscuring your view of his face "For you, Lady (y/n)," he started, a playful tone in his voice.

"Nothing is impossible." He lowered the veil, revealing his wide smile. You felt yourself tense up at his expression and you questioned your own body's reaction. You don't understand why but you suddenly feel uneasy and on edge. Something felt off about Zephyr. His tone was warm and his body language seemed relaxed but his smile looked...Sinister.

However, as quickly as that foreboding smile appeared, it disappeared just as fast from Zephyr's face. "Don't worry. I'll handle it." A warm smile graced his lips once more as he wiped a few stray beads of sweat from your cheek. "You should go back and rest now, Lady (y/n). It'll a tiring day for you tomorrow. Come." He took your hand and led you out of the practice hall, your veil grasped firmly in his other. You followed his lead and came to the entrance door to the hall.

Just as Zephyr's hand touched the wooden door handle, a knock came from behind it and the door opened inwards, nearly hitting Zephyr in the face. "Saint Zephyr." A dainty nun stepped into the hall as she called out, her voice soft and low. Her gaze flickered to you. "A-and the Messiah." She stuttered before bowing hastily to you.

"Yes, Sister Darlene?" Zephyr nodded at her greeting. You've met Sister Darlene a few times before when she needed Zephyr's opinion on some church related matters. From your memory, she was a shy and timid young nun, prone to stuttering and fumbling over her words. Though, you heard she has a knack for singing. Maybe you could befriend her. It'd be nice to have someone other than Zephyr to talk to. (Not that he wasn't good company or anything but some diversity is always good...right?)

"I-it's about tomorrow's transportation" Darlene fidgeted in place. Zephyr nodded, prodding her to continue as he fondled with your veil in his hand.. "S-shall we use the opened air carriage or the closed one?" Darlene asked, stealing a few short glances at you. Zephyr, however, seemed to be a bit preoccupied as he kept his gaze down while feeling out the veil. He roughly measured it using his hands as he replied nonchalantly. "The closed one."

Darlene nodded. "Then, s-shall I also inform the Ordo Concordiae? S-so they can post g-guards along our route?" You perked up at that mention. That's a name you haven't heard in a while. The Ordo Concordiae or the Order of Harmony was the name of the guards you worked for before becoming saint. it's been a while since you heard from them. Would they be present for tomorrow's ceremony too? Do...do they remember you?

Zephyr held up the veil before putting it on you once more. He adjusted it and you guessed he was taking some mental notes about the length of the veil in order to make modifications from the way he tilted your head side to side as he observed. "No need. The Royal guards will be on duty along the route tomorrow." He replied, not looking at Darlene.

You complied with Zephyr, letting him move your head around freely with the veil over your face. Through your obstructed view, you saw Darlene straightened her back before replying. "I see. I will go do the necessary arrangement then. Excuse me then, Saint Zephyr, Messiah." Darlene said as she bowed her head. You felt surprised. That was the first time you've heard Darlene speak so confidently and clearly.

Was she that eager to leave?

You held back a chuckle at the thought. Maybe you should find the time to get to know her.

"Of course, Sister Darlene." With that, she left the two of you alone. Zephyr was quiet as he looked at you. Despite the veil, he still seemed to be looking at you directly in the eyes.

"..."

After some silence, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your forehead. Well, the part of the veil that covered your forehead. "Alright, let's get you back to your room now, Lady (y/n)." He pulled back and held your hand, leading you out of the hall and down the corridors of the temple.

You walked beside him as you reached up to take off the veil he forgot to remove from you. The moment your hand touched the fabric, Zephyr's hand shot up and grabbed yours, forcing it to a stop. You tilted you head in confusion.

Zephyr stopped in his steps and turned towards you, now holding both your hands in his. "In the case that I don't manage to get the necessary modifications done in time, you will still need to use this one at the ceremony, Lady (y/n)." He said as he readjusted the veil, making sure it was securely placed on your head. "Thus, i suggest you to always keep it on before your dance comes to pass. Let your body adjust to it so it won't strain you as much." He advised.

"Oh...I see." You didn't want to wear this annoying headpiece wherever you went but he made a good point. Reluctantly, you agreed. "Alright." You sighed, feeling defeated. "Good." Zephyr patted your head before continuing to lead the way.

You arrived in front of your room shortly after and Zephyr bid you farewell as you entered. The setting sun could be seen outside the window in your room. Its glow painting your room in a soft orange hue. You sighed as you walked over to your bed before limply flopping onto it. You buried your face in the sheets, smelling the light flora scent of the soap they used for cleaning emanating from it.

"..."

You did nothing as you laid on your stomach on the bed, basking in the silence. Your mind raced, thinking about tomorrow night. Two years ago, when you first arrived in Ebreau, you'd never thought you'd ever have the need to meet with the Royal family but now, not only was your presence going to be tomorrow night's highlight, you were going to perform for them too!

You groaned loudly into the sheets. The stress was getting to you. "Being Messiah is so difficult..." You mumbled, rubbing your face against the sheets as you coped with your anxiety.

However, the rough fabric of the veil prevented you from doing that too. You felt the sandy texture rubbed uncomfortably against your cheeks and nose. You huffed angrily as you reached up and yanked the veil off you. Throwing the golden headpiece onto the floor, you stuffed your face back into the sheets, actually feeling the softness of it this time.

The whole ordeal of shouldering the future of Ebreau as Messiah paired with the events of tomorrow night already gave you a big headache. You didn't need the extra challenge of wearing something so incredibly inconvenient!

Who came up with the idea of dancing with a veil on?!

"Stupid protocol making me dance like a monkey in a veil..." You clicked your tongue and complained. "How am I going to do this..." You sighed into the bed.

Your whole experience made you realised just how hard it was to be in a high position like this. How did Zephyr survive so many years being saint? It's only been a month since you became Messiah and you felt like you were going to break apart already.

You flipped over on the bed, facing the ceiling. "Calm down." You whispered to yourself, lightly slapping yourself on both cheeks to make yourself snap out of it. Complaining and stressing over it like this wasn't going to solve your problems. You just had to take it one step at a time.

Even if these steps were big strides.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself rest.

It'll be fine. You'll do fine.

You reassured yourself.

Zephyr's done it before so it's definitely possible. It has to be.

You thought, convincing yourself that dancing with the veil on won't kill you.

I just have to control my breathing and-“Believe only what thou sees, lamb.”

!!

You sprang up from the bed, frantically looking around your room for the source of the voice. You quickly recomposed yourself once you realised that it was Calerus that just spoke to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his words.

What do you mean?

You thought in your mind.

“What goes unseen is but an illusion.”

Calerus' voice rumbled in your head once more. Even with his elaboration, it was still too vague for you to understand. You asked for more but you were met with silence. It seemed Calerus was done talking to you.

Believe in what I see? Is that what he means?

You tried to make sense of the god's words and why he said them but nothing clicked. In the midst of your pondering, a knock came from your bedroom door.

"I've brought your dinner, Lady (y/n)." Zephyr's familiar voice came from outside.

You pushed yourself onto your feet and went to the door, halting your wondering of the deity's warning.

That could wait for now.

It was dinner time.

~✟~

"Pardon?!" You let out as your eyes went wide. You had just woken up and were having a peaceful breakfast when Zephyr just broke the most ground shaking news to you. "We will be leaving for the Royal palace after you finished breakfast and get dressed." Zephyr repeated and you almost choked on your food.

"I thought we were going this afternoon! Isn't the ceremony tonight? Why are leaving now?!" You asked, feeling absolutely distraughted. You thought you still had the entire morning to prepare and calm yourself! That was why you got up so early in the first place!

"The ceremony is tonight, yes," Zephyr scooted his chair closer to you, patting your back as an effort to calm you down. "but you need to be meet with queen and prince so we need to go early before they get busy with welcoming guests." He explained.

"Won't I be meeting them tonight? Why do I need to go see them now?" You asked, perplexed by this turn of events and desperate to find a way to delay this meeting as much as possible. Zephyr looked down at the table, thinking of how to phrase his next sentence to you. "Tonight's ceremony is more of a show to the public than it is an official meeting, Lady (y/n)." You cocked your head to the side. "I don't understand..."

"Take it as the name suggests. A ceremony. All ceremonies are rehearsed beforehand so everyone involved knows what to do when the time comes." Zephyr explained as he ran a hand though your hair. "The real meeting between you and the Royal family is done in private with only you and them present." You felt like you were going to throw up from the stress.

Your plate was still relatively full but you've already lost your appetite after this reveal. You even requested for something nice and fancy to eat this morning to help with the nerves.

Guess it's all going to waste now.

"I..I'm full now." You mumbled and pushed the plate away. You got up from your seat but Zephyr grabbed onto your arm before you could take a step further. "But you've barely eaten anything, Lady (y/n)." He frowned.

"I don't feel like eating anymore." You admitted as you looked down, feeling guilty from wasting perfectly good food. Zephyr sighed as he stood up before taking you into a tight hug.

?

"You'll do great, Lady (y/n). Believe me." Zephyr whispered into your ear as he squeezed. Your eyes went wide in surprise at his words before slowly softening. You wrapped your arms around him, returning the hug as you buried your face into his chest. The familiar scene of Zephyr's robe wafted into your nose. It smelt of petrichor, calming and refreshing.

"Thank you..." You mumbled, feeling better.

A pair of lips pressed the top of your head as you felt Zephyr leaned down. You sighed softly.

No matter how tough it gets, you know you'll always have Zephyr.

~✟~

The sound of cheering was deafening outside of the carriage. Looking out the carriage window, you saw lines upon lines of people standing beside the road, jumping and waving with big smiles on their faces. You waved back, trying your best to ensure no one is ignores or left out (though it was impossible with the amount of people present).

Horses pulled your carriage along the cobblestone road, their neighs occasionally penetrating the cheers and yells of the crowd, reaching your ears within your ride. Nuns and monks led the procession towards the Royal palace, walking in front while holding various chimes and bells that you've never seen before. The ringing of these instruments accompanied the way as if they were some sort of beat to follow.

Zephyr sat across from you, gazing out the window too with a soft smile on his lips. He stayed silent, letting you take in the adoration the people of Ebreau wanted to show you. His hair was tied up in a ponytail (he did that a lot ever since your accidental compliment on it) and his bangs fluttered gently from the breeze blowing into the carriage.

"Miss Messiah!"

In the midst of the dissonant voices, a certain call, low but clear shot through the air and caught your attention. The familiar pitch urged your curiosity to look for the source. And so you looked. Near the back of the crowd, a man, taller than the rest, stood out as he yelled again with a hand beside his mouth.

"Thank you!"

It was faint but you could make out his words. His structure seemed familiar. Squinting your eyes, you honed in on his face.

!

It was Mr. Citris!

Grinning, Mr. Citris looked beside him with a finger pointed at you. A person stood at his side, though their smaller frame causes them to be blocked by the people in front, besides from the top of their blond head, you could not see any other features. From your faraway position, you saw Mr. Citris spoke to the person beside him before bending down and picking them up.

A young girl came into view as Mr. Citris held her by her waist and lifted her up in front of him. A bashful flush spread across the young girl's face, seemingly embarrassed by her father's antics. The two exchanged a few more words before the girl eventually turned towards you. She waved with a smile.

The realisation finally dawned on you and you almost slapped yourself for being so slow.

That girl is Mr. Citris' daughter!

The girl's complexion was light but not sickly. Her smile was small yet bright. She looked...Well. Mr. Citris must have use the gold coins to buy the medicine. Even then, the medicine doesn't cure her, only slows down and eases the pain which means...She went out of her way to come see you despite her condition.

A warmth spread through your chest. The thought that you successfully helped someone, even just a little bit, was just the affirmation you needed.

Maybe you weren't hopeless.

You waved back, hoping they would see your reaction and how happy you were that things worked out. You smiled, grinned even.

Ah, wait.

They can't see you smile.

They can't see your face at all.

The veil swayed gently in front of your face following the shaking of the carriage.

The joy you felt a moment ago dissipated as quickly as it arrived. You deflated like a balloon but you waved back nonetheless (albeit somewhat dispiritedly).

Your carriage eventually passed the pair and they disappeared into the crowd. Your vision was once again filled with never-before-seen faces of strangers and your ears flooded with their unfamiliar yells.

Everything had been new to you when you were promoted to Messiah. New lifestyle, new responsibilities, new outlook, the list goes on. For this procession, you had hoped to find some familiarity, some remnant of the past to remind you that you weren't always Messiah, that not long ago you were among these crowds of people.

But looking at the sea of people, you didn't even see any guards in black uniform, guards of the Ordo Concordiae, your colleagues. They were perhaps the closest people you could call family in this place (as messed up as it is considering they basically forced you to work for them) yet you could only see white.

White of the uniforms of the Royal guards.

They stood along the road, ensuring no one cause trouble for the procession towards the palace, holding back any who dared to get too close. You continued to greet the onlookers albeit less enthusiastically.

"...Lady (y/n)."

Your head snapped towards Zephyr after he broke his silence. "Let us talk." You cocked your head to the side, confused by his sudden request. He drew the blinds to the window, isolating the both of you from the outside. “What is it?” You suddenly felt uneasy. Darkness shrouded the carriage but a few rays of light came through the gaps, illuminating Zephyr's face. His face was expressionless and lacking of warmth, unbefitting of his usual demeanour.

“…” He remained quiet and it agitated you further. Zephyr moved from his seat across from you to beside you, facing some difficulty standing up straight due to the low ceiling of the carriage. He shuffled to your side of the carriage and sat down. Your eyes followed him as he turned to you.

“…” He was still silent, his gaze dropping down towards the ground.

Cold sweat was beginning to form on your forehead. Seeing Zephyr so quiet and emotionless was concerning if not alarming. “Zephyr?” You called out, leaning in closer until you came into his peripheral, hoping that would finally catch his attention and prompt him to say what was on his mind.

He finally looked back up before reaching over to you. He grasped onto the hem of your veil and lifted it, revealing your golden eyes to him. “You’re worrying me, Zephyr. What is it?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows. You grabbed onto Zephyr’s hands that were still holding your veil. “Why are you taking it off?” Zephyr simply shook his head and let go but not before making sure it wouldn’t fall back down and cover your face.

“I just…want to see your face, Lady (y/n). Just for a bit.” Zephyr explained, a small smile finally gracing his lips. You frowned, not convinced it was as simple as that. He took a breath before finally speaking. “Lady (y/n), no matter what happens when you meet with the queen and prince later,” He held your hands in his. “Please remember you’re already doing your best."

You blinked. “…What?”

Zephyr pulled you close and embraced you, pressing your head against his chest. He stroked your hair gently. You could hear his heartbeat through his chest, slow and steady. It'd even be calming if it weren't for the current situation. “You don’t have to fix every problem this kingdom has.” You looked up from his chest, eyes swirling with confusion. You pushed yourself off him. Zephyr doesn’t stop you but his arms remain in a loose hug around you.

“What does that mean?” Zephyr sighed and closed his eyes. “…The politics of Ebreau is more complicated than you think, Lady (y/n).” He reopened his eyes and his purple irises stared back into your golden ones. Unlike his, your heart was pounding inside of you, threatening to burst from the stress but you pushed on, knowing this was important. You had to know more. “Tell me then. Shouldn’t I know how this country functions if I am to guide its people?” You pestered for him to elaborate. You unconsciously gripped onto his robe, tensed about what he’ll say. Just how many more challenges were you going to face?

Zephyr’s hands went up to your face and cupped your cheeks. He leaned down, shortening the gap between both your faces. “The relationship between the royal family and the temple…isn’t as great as it seems.” Zephyr confessed. The cheering outside continued on even after your retreat into the carriage but right now, you wished it would stop so you could have some silence to process this information. You tried your best to respond. “What…what happened?”

Zephyr let go of your face before peeking out the blinds. You looked out the small opening between the blinds and windows over his shoulder. The people continued to celebrate the procession outside, their voices not appearing to die down any time soon. He readjusted the blinds and blocked out the people once more. He took a deep breath.

“Things started to get messy 3 years ago. After the war with the Casvians began." Zephyr recalled. "As with all wars, the kingdom has suffered many losses from this ordeal, including but not limited to economic downfalls and disharmony among its people." You nodded. That makes sense...But how did that cause the deterioration of the relationship between the temple and the Royal family?

"Much of Ebreau's money and resources have been sent to the front line in the northeast to aid in the battle with Casviren. The Royal family only has so much money to spare now and they cannot effort to spend it on unnecessary groups or organisations." He fidgeted in his place. It was clear this was a sensitive and top secret topic. You could see glints of worry reflected in his eyes as he spoke. Zephyr was afraid of this information being leaked to the public.

"The temple maintains the people's belief in our Lord, Calerus, ensuring their undying loyalty to him. A common religion fosters unity and reduces dispute among the people as everyone shares the same principle and belief." Zephyr elaborated. You processed his words, keeping your head bowed in thought before asking. "So, basically, the temple is responsible for keeping the peace among the citizens?"

"Yes, that's a good way to put it." A smile graced Zephyr's lips, easing the tension in the air. "But many tragedies have occurred. Much blood has been spilled and even more tears have been shed. The war has raged on for too long and too fiercely. It has made a grave impact on the people, not just economically but also spiritually." He sighed. "They are starting to lose faith. Some even believe Calerus has abandoned Ebreau." Zephyr played with your hair. It appeared unfitting of the situation at first but looking at how he was rubbing and pinching the tip of it instead of twirling it like how he usually does, you guessed he was doing it out of anxiety and not playfulness.

Your mind spun as you tried to piece together the information. You never knew the beliefs of Ebreauans were waning. Have you just not been out and about enough? Surely not. You ran errands everyday for the past 2 years. You were always outside and mixing with the folks. Then that means either you're an unobservant idiot or you've never seen Ebreau when it was still prosperous.

The war started 3 years ago and you only got dropped here 2 years ago. 1 year may not be enough to put a dent, economy wise in a kingdom as wealthy as Ebreau but you don't doubt it's enough to instill fear and cause hysteria among the people.

Perhaps you've never seen the true glory of Ebreau.

Perhaps you've jumbled the chaos with the mundane.

Perhaps this madness has become your normal.

"The temple is losing influence, is that what you're saying?" You muttered and, to your dismay despite expecting it, Zephyr nodded. "Our Lord, Calerus," he sighed, "is no longer a tie that binds the nation together." He looked away before closing his eyes. "We no longer have the means to maintain the peace like we used to." It hurt him to admit this.

"..." You were deep in thought and thankfully, Zephyr was more than willing to give you space to process everything.

People are scared and confused. The war with the Casvians has gone on for 3 years already and currently, it still shows no signs of stopping. The commonfolks are grasping at anyone and anything for guidance in this desperate time. They look towards those in charge, in this case, the Royal family and the temple for assurance and direction, for a spark of hope that they will get through this. But when that fails...

It's not going to end well for the higher ups.

Zephyr took a deep breath and continued. "The palace considers us inept and are an extra weight that burdens them when they already have so much on their hands." The carriage rattled as it went over, what you assume to be, a rock. "Communication between the temple and palace has decreased to when absolutely necessary over the years and collaborations happen only to uphold the act that Ebreau is co-ruled by the temple and royal family." He explained further.

"I..." Zephyr paused midsentence and your breath hitched, awaiting what terrible news he will relay on you next. "I expect them to cut ties with us soon." You suppressed the urge to jump out the carriage this instant and run back to the temple-no, back to the small, little house you rented before you became Messiah. Before everything went haywire.

You buried your face into your hands. This was all too much. It went from bad to worse to horrible. It's been a constant downward spiral these back few days.

Don't cry, (y/n). Don't cry.

A pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you towards their chest. Zephyr hugged you as he caressed you. His hand going up and down your back as he comforted. "I'm sorry to burden you with so much, Lady (y/n)." You felt him gripping onto your clothes. "I don't expect you to fix these problems. They've been festering for too long." He kissed your head.

"Maybe this country is already beyond salvation."

Your hands felt weak and fell from your face as he murmured into your ear. This kingdom... Ebreau... Your home...

How do you save it?

~✟~

The palace was just in view as the horses trotted closer, leading the carriage from the cobblestone road of the central town to the tiled pathway within the castle compound. Royal guards dressed in their white uniforms continued to stand guard beside the pathway just as they did when you were still on the streets of the central town. However, now with the revelation that people from the palace have a sour (to put it nicely) relationship with the temple, the blank stares of these men felt a lot more menacing and frightening than they previously were.

You met eyes with a certain guard on duty beside the pathway and it could be paranoia speaking but you swore there was ill intent behind those eyes. A chill ran down your spine as you quickly adverted your eyes to elsewhere.

Zephyr was still seated next to you, not moving despite already finished telling you the situation with the Royal family. You didn't mind though, you needed the emotional support for what was about to come.

The palace was mostly white in colour, its roof golden and its doors wooden but painted with silver, so were the window frames. As you inched closer, you could make out figures standing in front of the main entrance.

You gulped.

The carriage came to a stop. Zephyr stepped out first before holding his hand out for you to take. You slowly reached over, scooting towards the open door before stepping down the steps of the carriage, your hand in his.

Your heart was racing and you mentally counted to yourself before lifting your head to meet the gazes of the people before you.

“Messiah, we are so delighted that you’re here.” A silky and smooth voice poured from the mouth of the woman in front of you. The woman had light brown hair, done up into a side bun which hung low and near to her face. She wore a light blue gown, embellished with white pearls and clear crystals around the waist and also the skirt of the gown. She smiled, a few wrinkles appearing around the corners of her ruby eyes. “I am Marika Sinnyala.” She introduced herself, leaving out her title.

Queen.

Marika held up her hand and gestured to the person standing beside her. A younger man, tall and slim. He wore a uniform similar to the royal guards except his was silver, not white and there were some black embroidery around the collar. He had the same red eyes and a face resembling hers albeit it was more masculine. It wasn’t hard to tell who he was and what his relationship with Marika is.

“This is my dear son, Xion Sinnyala.”

The prince strode over, his white hair bouncing gently on his head. A mark of royalty as some would say. As was gold the colour of the divine, white was the colour of royalty. The Sinnyala family had ruled Ebreau for centuries alongside the temple. A striking characteristic of the Sinnyalas were their white as snow hair. It’s speculated that that’s why white symbolises royalty. It wouldn’t be far fetched that as time went on, Ebreauans associated that colour with power and luxury. Most past rulers of the kingdom had that colour of hair after all.

Even the late king.

Xion stopped right in front of you. He reached for your hand, grabbing onto it as he leaned down. His touch was feathery light, you could barely feel it.

It was almost as if he was avoiding touching you.

You resisted the urge to pull your hand back as he pressed a soft kiss on the back of your hand. His other hand rested behind his back. To outsiders, it may have appeared as a friendly gesture. A greeting from a prince to a maiden. Gentlemanly and almost fairytale like. You admit. Something like this, normally would get your heart racing and cheeks flushing.

But Xion, he was staring right at you as he did so.

The mother and son pair may share the same coloured eyes but Queen Marika’s were soft and friendly as she greeted you. Prince Xion, on the other hand, his eyes were piercing and fierce, his gaze felt like a glare. His actions seemed gentle and welcoming but the look in his eyes said otherwise.

You suddenly felt grateful for the veil you were wearing as your lips trembled.

His soft lips finally left your skin but he did not stand back up. Still in a bowed position, his voice, low and crisp, sounded.

“I’ve been waiting for you, Messiah.”

Another voice echoed from within the deep chambers of your mind at the same time, almost overlapping with the prince’s.

“Beware the Heretics.”

~✟~

Ahhhh done! Finally! This chapter was so hard to write since it was less action and more lore heavy. But finally it’s done! I was supposed to get this up yesterday but my body straight up went “hey wouldn’t it be funny to make her sick?” So yeah. That kinda slowed me down a bit. Sorry and thank you for waiting! I hope you enjoyed ^^

Ps: I decided to change the colour for Messiah from blue to orange since it suited better so I’ll go back and change the ones in previous chapters afterwards. Oh and again, any errors you find, let me know so I can correct them!

~

Taglist

@ursinaw @ceeesxy-blog @deepinballs @vash-yuu @fairy-lenaa @fleurescentlight @surprisemodafakas @cerisearan @avyannasstuff @justabratsworld @m0chilattae @sirenetheblogger @rosesunderthegarden @party-9 @waywardstardustcollector @crnnbrry-blog @iamapotatoe @altumsomnum @liesatemyocean @tired-of-life-86 @takottai @alexatiu

please tell me if I missed anyone!

#fantasy #isekai #male yandere #transmigration #yandere #yandere male #yandere oc #yandere saint #yandere stories #yandere x darling #female reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere original character #yandere obsession #yancore #yandere fic #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #slow burn #prince

[calisources]

𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋, 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All quotes are taken from different media about betrayal, heartbreak and future betrayal or the art of it. Some quotes include some foul language so please beware. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit for your muses.

It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend.

The mistake was mine, for trusting you.

For there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first.

I used to advertise my loyalty and I suffered the consequences of it.

I used to open my heart easily, until you broke it.

Why did you despise me?

 You loved me - what right had you to leave me?

He would have killed me.

Then you should’ve died. Died rather than betray your friends, as we would have done for you.

I think I realized that I would rather die because I betrayed them, than live because I betrayed you.

Stab the body and it heals, but injure the heart and the wound lasts a lifetime.

It's hard to tell who has your back, from who has it long enough just to stab you in it.

What was it that you wanted and why didn't you fight for it?

But... do you stop loving someone just because they betray you? 

That's what makes the betrayal hurt so much - pain, frustration, anger... and I still loved her. I still do.

 Maybe I was safe to you, and you needed to feel that.

I could never hurt him enough to make his betrayal stop hurting.

You are going to break your promise. I understand. 

When someone stabs you in the back and then apologizes, accept the apology, but don't give him the knife back to do it again.

I will forget you as soon as my head lays on someone else's arms. 

I would have taken a bullet for you. It just never crossed my mind that you would be the one to shoot.

Don't be nice. Be loyal. Nice can be faked. Loyalty can not.

You got betrayed because love turned you blind.

Don't punish yourself for trusting people and getting betrayed. It's not your fault.

What is more important, that Caesar is assassinated or that he is assassinated by his intimate friends?

It hurts to breathe. It hurts to live. I hate her, yet I do not think I can exist without her.

Was it all in my head?

You are enough to drive a saint to madness or a king to his knees.

Some people are in such utter darkness that they will burn you just to see a light. 

Her only way home was to betray her friend.

I risked, and I lost, but the risk was still worth it.

Could a marriage be happy, standing on a shaky ground of adultery and a disregard for the wife’s feelings? 

When dealing with love and relationship. Hurting and betraying a great woman can lead you to a painful life of regret.

I once met a man who didn't have a heart. He told me he didn't have one.

Do not give your ears to snake they are legless to stand on their own.

Even as your body betrays you, your mind denies it.

When you care about someone, you can’t just turn that off because you learn they betrayed you.

You believed me incapable of hurting you, and yet I did.

I would rather my enemy's sword pierce my heart then my friend's dagger stab me in the back.

Do you ever wonder, do you, why I loved you for such a long time, and still didn’t really know you?

False friends, like weeds, try very hard to appear genuine.

Some scars don't hurt. Some scars are numb. Some scars rid you of the capacity to feel anything ever again.

Whoever controls the king, controls the kingdom.

A man sleeps with another woman, he is praised for it, a woman does the same, she is labeled as a whore.

Innocence like yours attracts snakes, and all they want is a piece of you.

I didn’t know that you were ashamed of me.

My past. My mistake. My regret. My love.

The easiest way to steal something is for it to be given willingly.

I don't want to fall in love with you, because you will use it against me.

Cal betrayed me, and I betrayed him. And you betrayed both of us, in a thousand different ways.

Betrayal isn't ridiculous. It's the reason empires fall.

She is an able negotiator and a strong ally.

That is for what you did to me.

Not as the faceless lover. Not even for today when you made love to me... or perhaps we should call it 'fucking', since there was nothing loving about it, only manipulation

Do you know why he did what he did to you? Because he could.

You’re my prey tonight.

You should’ve paid attention. Princesses don’t trust the dragons, they fall pray of it.

A son for a son, heh. But that's a grandson...and he never was much use.

I can love what is broken.

She is intent on pleasing the men that frighten her.

I’ve given my loyalty before. Too many times now. Always works out the same.

You’ve been moving your lips, but I’ve not heard a word.

I would betray you a thousandfold for her.

A woman should not be trusted. Specially one with such beauty and doesn’t even realize they have.

Because you needed to know that not everything was a lie.

Did he touch you like this?

Yes, but that's how he always touches me. He would n-never…

Maven is his mother's son.

I gave him so much-parts of myself I didn't even know were there.

The only betrayal I ever did was being my mother’s child.

We made a bargain. I give you over, and he agrees to let my forces enter Prythian through his territory.

Having faith in your spouse does not lead to trust, truth does.

You may not have loved me,but I loved you, and my love was never a lie.

I hope I never meet the guy that did this to you.

If there is a marriage and your husband loves you, there is no other woman. 

From his vantage point on the deck, the commoners were ants.

I will never make the mistake of loving you ever again.

Why the hell would you save that motherfucker’s life?

The only one you protected was yourself.

Yes. I did protect myself. It was about damn time I learned to do that.

Betraying someone once can be a mistake. Betraying someone twice is a choice.

My brother needs to watch where he steps while doing so. And on whom he steps.

You ended one life, but I got another in me.

You think I betrayed you.

You're nothing but a bad habit.

Can’t have love without lust.

Be careful who you follow and treat everyone who come to you as if the have an agenda towards you.

Break his crown, break his throne, rip his monarchy apart.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. ) #rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #betrayal prompts #romantic betrayal prompts

[biceratops7]

Hmm, any one notice this?

So a while ago I wrote a meta about how Stede isn’t actually oblivious to his feelings towards Ed, but I was really thinking about it at work today and honestly… Ed kind of is.

I know the running joke of Stede effortlessly being the most objectively romantic human on planet earth by sheer accident is hilarious. But did you ever notice that when Stede is actually trying to be loving on purpose, Ed Doesn’t Get it?

We can assume Stede started the ritual of them eating breakfast together cause it’s his quarters, and the intimacy of that clearly went right over Ed’s head cause he let Jack invade it without a second thought. Like Ed, honey, did the implications of a man wanting to eat breakfast with you and only you every single day seriously never register to you??

Stede plans a whole day together “treasure hunting” when he wants Ed to stay. The whole “you wear fine things well” business was pure oblivion on Stede’s part, this is him flirting. And he’s trying so hilariously hard to make this ridiculous idea work, but Ed still doesn’t get the gist. Luckily Lucius I-need-a-fucking-raise- Spriggs is here to save the day and clue Ed in to what at least this particular situation means.

…Which makes the gears clearly turning in Ed’s head during this moment absolutely precious and hilarious. Now he knows what’s going on. He sees that Stede’s excited to spend time with him in particular just like Saint Augustine, I mean a bunch more people will be also there this time, but still! And I’m sorry but the brief look of pure “Ed Exe has stopped working” when apparently the first thing Stede could think of was swimming is criminally underrated.

And look at that fond little smile it turns into, Ed knows full well that man has some cute little swim costume squirreled away somewhere ready to go after pulling an entire safari outfit out of his ass last episode 😂

Ok ok enough teasing Ed, back to the point.

We know Ed’s love language is physical touch. Stede’s is less talked about but I firmly believe his is quality time. Just like Ed is touch starved, Stede is shown to desperately want someone to spend time with. But that’s not just the way he receives love, it’s how he gives love too.

His way of saying I love you is to say “That’s me.” He’s the one who breaks the lock on his own bathroom door. He’ll be the one to show up at Ed’s restaurant and look at all the little Knick knacks in his gift shop on a slow day. Stede wants to be the one who’s there, who makes sure Ed doesn’t have to cry by himself, or feel silly about something he loves and put a lot of work into. He doesn’t ever want someone so deeply precious to him feeling as unwanted and isolated as he did back in Barabados.

And Ed ends up missing so many of these intentional gestures. Which isn’t a BAD thing, I just love all the little intricacies of two people with completely different love languages somehow making it work anyway. I think that’s part of why the bathtub scene felt so profoundly intimate, because their love languages work seamlessly together and they end up emotionally on the same page.

#ofmd #our flag means death #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #Edward teach #Blackbeard #Stede bonnet #love languages #Stede’s love language #ramblings #meta #analysis #my meta #1x07 #1x08 #1x06 #biceratops

[eywahasheardyou]

One Last Promise

Pairings: Sully Family x Reader, Jake Sully x Daughter! Reader

Wordcount: 1.3k words

They say when you have finished your purpose in the living world, Eywa will welcome you back to where you once came. From her loving embrace to that of a mother, awaiting for her child to come back to her once their day was over and the dusk sets.

Your father, the Toruk Makto, the leader of your clan, had always told you that death takes everyone without even a warning. May it be a toddling child or a withering old man. Death doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints, he would always say. And when he repeats that phrase, he had a wistful look in his eyes, lips pressed firmly against each other as he clutched the metal pendant that you were once told belonged to his brother.

You knew death would come for you sooner or later. The looming threat of it would often cross your mind once in a while but you knew it was always in your father’s. A hardened soldier like him had crossed death’s path, and death would greet him. Through the empty eyes of his fallen comrades. It’ll come knocking, and you’d have no choice but to answer. Your father just wanted to shield you from that. From the horrors of war. That was what you kept telling yourself anyway as you had watched him become hardened by countless battles, your older brothers being the brunt of his fears of losing the one thing he had worked so hard to get. A family. One that was his to protect.

You gazed at your father’s still form, his wrinkled face scrunched up as tears rolled down his cheeks, desperately trying to cover the wound that tainted your blue skin crimson. His hands were shaky, you could feel it against your skin as he pressed his hands on your chest, desperately putting pressure on the wound that just didn't seem to run out of blood.

A cry escaped you and it took all of Jake’s strength to not pull away. This was saving you. He needed to do this. He needed to keep you alive.

“Daddy..?” You mustered up the strength to mumble, praying to Eywa to give you a few more moments surrounded by the warmth of your family. A warmth you knew deep down, you would never feel again.. not in this life anyway.

“I’m right here, baby girl. I’m right here..” Your lips weakly quirked up into a grin at the familiar pet name that you had once complained was childish.

Your ears twitched like they always did when your father called you that, it was almost always followed up with a scowl and a whine. But now that you are at death’s door steps, you can only smile.

You lifted your hand up to gently cup your father’s cheek, trying to remember the way his skin felt against your palm. You often described it as ‘prickly like a cactus’, a plant from earth your father described to you once. “Daddy.. I.. When ‘m gone.. y-you.. you go easy on the boys, okay? ‘S not their fault..” You could feel the iron on your tongue and you coughed, trying to breathe despite your lungs vehemently complaining. “Don’t you blame ‘em, daddy.. ‘m gonna be angry if you do..”

“Hey, hey look at me, look at daddy, babygirl.. you’re gonna be fine, okay? You’ll live, yeah? You’ll live.. we’re gonna go home after this. Back to Mo’at, okay? Back to the forest.” His large hand cupped your face, moving some stray hair strands.

Jake shook his head as he held you close, your life flashing in his eyes. His fondest memory of watching you claim your own ikran, one that closely resembled the one that he used to have and he firmly believed that your ikran was of Toruk’s own clutch. He flew with you that day, side by side as you soared through the heavens with cries of victory.

You had so much ahead of you. You were going to grow right in front of his very eyes, have so many adventures to go through, and when you’re old enough.. he could see being by your side as you’d introduce your other half. And he would play the part of the tough dad that wouldn’t give his daughter away but he knew deep down he’d be happy that you were happy.

And the promises of your future was slipping through his fingers.

As your skin grew cold and clammy, Jake realized that he would never see that. He would never see you live the life that you deserved. One that knew only of peace. And for once, the great Toruk Makto wept as he pulled you closer, cradling you in his arms as if it was the day Eywa blessed him and Neytiri with you all over again.

“Please, please..” He had begged, lifting his head up to look at the stars before his eyes flickered back to you. Eywa, oh eywa, please not his daughter. Not his little girl.

“Daddy.. p-promise me, please.. ‘s not their fault, daddy..” A gargled choke from your own blood made him hold you tighter, shaking his head as he heard your whimpers of pain. You mustered up your strength to say these words, knowing well that when you return to Eywa, your passing would devastate your family. You didn’t want your father to blame your big brothers for something they could not control.

“I promise, I promise.” He says quickly as he craned his head to look at you, blinking his eyes to get rid of the tears that blurred his vision. “You’re going to be okay, baby.” He refused to. He was begging, desperately pleading inwardly that Eywa would take him instead of you. “I’m.. I’m gonna pick you up, okay? Stay with me.” He carefully held you securely in his arms, looking over at Lo’ak and Neteyam, whose sullen expressions and once vibrant eyes became dull as tears rolled down their cheeks. Never did they think they would be in this situation, their hands stained with their baby sister’s blood.

“C’mon, Lo’ak.. N-Neteyam.. Help me out. We’re gonna take your sister back to the village...” He tried not to let his voice shake. He had to be strong. “Neteyam! Lo’ak! Please.. Help me..” He tried again, voice laced in desperation when the two had yet to move, their eyes never leaving your form.

Your gaze never left your father’s face, trying to memorize every inch of the man who had loved and took care of you. Not Toruk Makto. Not Jake Sully of Earth. But your father.

A soft smile graced your lips and suddenly all the pain left you as quick as it had come. Then there was peace.

It was Lo’ak who noticed your sudden silence and he was quick to grasp onto your hand. “[Name]..?” His brows furrowed at the coldness of your palm and he felt his throat go dry and the tears poured down his cheeks as he pressed his cheek against your palm, shaking his head as Neteyam joined him, sobbing as he held his brother close.

“[Y/N]… No, no, no. [Y/N]!” Neytiri shook you in your father’s arms, shaking her head as if in disbelief. A gut wrenching cry escaped your mother’s throat as her shaky hands roamed over your face, those eyes that used to look at her with such fondness and admiration had lost all it’s life.

Jake could feel the warmth of your body retreating, your limbs limp and your body pale. He tilted his head to the sky, asking the Great Mother why she would take his little girl. Why you? It should’ve been him. He dug his sharp fangs on his lip, biting back the cry of anguish that threatened to claw its way out of his throat, though it only increased the pressure in his chest and with one last look at your face, your dull eyes gazing at the sky, he let out a desperate cry. He cradled you to his chest, face pressed against your hair as he sobbed.

When eclipse broke, and the battle for Pandora had ended for now, your family sat on one of the rocky shores of Three Brothers’ Rock, holding one another close in this time of grief.

They mourned for the life you would’ve lived, mourned for what could’ve been, what would’ve been, and what should’ve been. They mourned you.

Author’s Notes: Inspired by @missroro ’s prompt. I hope I did it justice. I haven’t written in a year and my English is not very good, please excuse me for any grammar mistakes. Let me know what you think of this lil one shot! Kiveyame.

#avatar #avatar x you #avatar way of the water #avatar way of water #avatar way of the water x reader #jake sully #jake sully x daughter! reader #neteyam #neteyam sully #sully family #neytiri #lo’ak sully #lo’ak #jake sully fic #sully family x reader #atwow spoilers #atwow x you #atwow x reader #atwow #atwow fanfiction

[yxstxrdrxxm]

SYNOPSIS: Lyney has a patience of a saint, but he's had enough of this game of cat and mouse. This time, he wants you, and no one will stop him for getting what he wants. (2nd POV) [ IDENTITYV AU ]

TW/S: Yandere tendencies, stalking (he's chasing you), minor character death (other survivors died), emotional manipulation, Arle teaches him how to """metaphorically""" cut off someone's 'wings', ooc Lyney and Arle, gore, teeth, Lyney is unhinged

You couldn't remember what tipped him off. It could be from your actions, or it could be from what you said. Hell, it may as well be something that you unknowingly did that offended him— something that would normally not be a bother to him that became its own trigger.

Whatever it could be, you were in the other end of such a horrible fate. And alas, the last place you wished you didn't end up in had to be the one you loathed the most.

The eerie chimes of the bell echoing around the haunted town continued to plague your senses, followed by the faint meowing of the grin-malkin cats as you sprinted for your dear life.

You can hardly focus on what is there and isn't there, as all you had is to get the hell out of here and save this sinking match.

Your only task is to survive.

Survive the madness of the man that loved you in such a twisted, horrible way.

You were his rabbit, and Eversleeping Town was the location of his greatest show yet— a show that will capture not just your attention, but your own will.

Granted, the ever forgiving Illusionist made a simple deal— if you get out by any means necessary, be it the dungeon, exit gate, or, hell— even by completing the ciphers with your companions or saved by the Nightingale… He'll let you go.

However, should you go down, he would consider that as a win of his own, and that meant you cannot leave this forsaken match that you're under.

It's why you were prepared. You came with a companion or two that can assist you, even if it had its own drawbacks.

Alas, this did not stop the Knave from simply going after them first, leaving only 4 ciphers and the dungeon still hidden and closed from many prying eyes. You were clever to cover your tracks, but he is more so with removing the most trickiest companions yet.

…

Or, that's what many may think.

The Knave bas been taught from the best of the best— his "Father" has taught him of how to, in simpler terms, keep a bird from flying away in its cage.

Should Lyney need it, he needed to learn one crucial detail: he needed to learn just how to clip his beloved's wings first and keep them in his cage.

After all, if he had found a way to do such a thing… the outcome of the match will be nothing but predictable.

And the Knave thrives off of the uncertainty, and especially with being dubbed the Trickster of Eversleeping.

He'll let you off for now. He'll let you scurry around, trying and praying that he never catches wind of your antics.

After all, the moment he catches you, you will have to pray to whatever God you believed in that he feels nice enough to not take you down to his very grave.

"Now, Lyney," he could vaguely hear 'Father' speak as she handed him his cards. Gesturing right before them was the sight of someone bound in the chair. The magician stood as he saw the stranger shake and struggle, trying to say something under the gag.

"You must learn how to use your tricks to matters such as this. I'm sure it will be hard, but I have faith that you can do it."

He seemed rather hesitant to speak with how the fool was trying and failing to scream. To beg, even. It was a pathetic sight if Lyney didn't had morals... Which he had, much to 'Father's' chagrin.

Oh well. It wasn't as though having morals can be a bad thing. Maybe it was better, so she can use it to her advantage.

"Take this, Lyney."

She hands the young magician an item. One that can be used with just a bit of force.

"Now, let Father teach you how to clip a bird's wings. All you have to do is watch and follow my lead. You can do that, right?"

He turned his gaze to the taller woman, then to the item she handed to him. The sight of the iron and leather caught his attention, and especially with the ends of it's 'mouth' being bloodied.

Pliers.

He should've dropped it the moment he had it. He should have done that and not agree. It was brutal to harm another person, and he knew that.

... But his 'Father' would simply dangle the life of Lynette over his head. She could simply threaten to send Lynette off to a dangerous mission, especially one where dying is guaranteed.

Many have died, and Lyney was not a stranger to that.

However, his sister was special. She was the only one he had left, and she to him. Should she die, he didn't knew what he'd end up doing.

And so, with a deep breath, he nodded and faced his 'Father'.

"Yes, Father."

...

That day didn't end in a simple case of dental work.

But he learned how to 'clip' a person's wings in exchange.

Your chest began to heave as you traversed through the empty buildings of the town, fatigue catching up to you the more you spent running.

Although your legs ached and begged for a break, you continued running, feeling the rush from behind you— one from the grin-malkin cats.

Now, one can say that you thought covering your tracks was a skill you need to learn. And with that, you assumed it to be the case. However, you've yet to learn that it was better not to underestimate a hunter's skills.

A lesson that Lyney, a man whom you've helped when you were both survivors, would be more than happy to teach you.

As you vaulted over an open window, you felt the air grow harsh as it whipped you on your descent, your feet landing on the pavement. Feeling your muscles tighten, you grit your teeth and sprinted onwards.

Come on, I just need to get to the graveyard. I can lose him from there!

Alas, you were not gifted with the matter of stamina. Just as you've reached past the tracks of the tram, you could hear Lyney speak from behind you.

"Look at what we have here! Scurrying off, are we?"

And then, you felt it.

Pain.

The harsh hit from Rosseland, his cat, as you vaulted over the window leading to the land of tombstones sent you flying; your back soon collided with one of the worn headstones, making you groan in pain.

In the midst of your suffering, Lyney vaulted through the window, his purple eyes twinkling as he crouched down to look at you.

"My, my, my little rabbit," he tutted, chuckling as he watched you crawl away from him with no avail. "Haven't we made a deal? If you manage to escape this match, I'll let you go. But since you went down... I get to keep you. Do you remember that?"

... You kept your mouth shut.

"... [Name]," he said, his right hand reaching over to grab your neck. "Answer me. Do you remember what our agreement is?"

"... I do."

And yet it feels like it's stacked against me.

Coughing, you turned your head away from him. You didn't need to see his face to know that he was happy to hear your agreement to the matter.

"See? It isn't so hard to agree, now, is it?" he asked with a lit of his voice. "Now, my darling... Now that I have you, I'd like for you to answer a few questions for me."

Questions?

"... And if I refuse?"

Lyney laughed at that, but his voice was less composed. Perhaps it was more manic.

"Ahahahaha! What makes you think you're able to refuse, my little hare?" he asked, his eyes closed before reaching up to grab your chin. With an iron grip, he turned your head to him, his eyes open to face you with a chilling smile.

"I'd hate to have you toy with me like that. You know that, right?"

You wanted to say otherwise, but you were already incapacitated. If you ever decided to counter his claim, you knew that he would do worse than simply chairing you to one of the... Less than desirable chairs with rockets strapped onto them.

".. Fine," you breathed out. "I agree."

"Splendid," he said, pulling his gloved hand away to grab his hat. As he pulled it off of his head and turned it upside down, he reached his left to slip inside.

"Now, I don't want to you to force my hand. It's only a few questions that I want you to answer, and if you answer them truthfully... I may spare you by chairing you myself."

You didn't knew what that meant...

... Up until you saw a pair of pliers peek out from his hand, the dull gleam of iron greeting your horrified face.

"But if you lied, I'll have to resort to some more... Drastic measures."

The hours you two spent together was, in short, torture.

You couldn't count the amount of times that your teeth got yanked with those metal ones, the pain and blood gushing as you wailed.

You could count other ways that would be better than feeling metal graze and nick at them. You could've asked for simply to be drugged, to face death by his hands, to bleed onto the ground that he walked on.

However, death was not a fate worse than this. And Lyney— rather, the Lyney you see now, not the one you know of— was a man who had a manic streak hidden under that smile.

As he yanked the nineteenth tooth out of you, he turned his head down to see blood drip down and stain your clothes. He scowled and placed his pliers down with four teeth now on his right side, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe the blood away.

He knew it was pointless. You did, too.

Maybe it was a way to distract yourself from the pain, and for him to justify his actions in doing such a thing.

Alas, delusions can only take you so far, and pain is karma's many mistresses. One of many that everyone in the manor is familiar with, you and Lyney included.

"Shhh..."

He began to dab the cloth more as blood spilled and tainted the fabric, his smile empty of its sympathy for your decision to lie to him. All he could see before him was his darling, whose way, way too stubborn for his good.

And one that is good to make him lose his patience.

"I have warned you, haven't I?" he asked, his voice chilling yet sickeningly sweet while he pulled the handkerchief away. Tossing it to a direction he could care less to look, he grabbed another from his hat to continue his 'treatment'.

"If you had simply stayed truthful, you wouldn't have to loose your teeth! And yet, you didn't listen," he concluded, tutting as you sobbed and turned your head from him.

"I pity you, my dear hare. But it's the price to pay with how you didn't listen to my warnings."

When the blood stopped spilling, he placed the bloodied fabric and stared at his handiwork. From the answers he got from you, he was quite... Intrigued with what you told him.

"Now... I'm going to ask you one more time."

Grabbing the now bloodied pliers, he positioned it to your twentieth tooth, ignoring the sobs you let out and your gaze full of fear.

"Do you prefer my dear sister, Lynette?"

He could hear your breath heave as the metal 'teeth' of the pliers began to tighten.

However, the answer you gave him was interesting... Especially when you whispered out 'yes' with your greatest efforts.

...

"Is that so?"

He couldn't help but laugh. So, you do prefer Lynette, his sister... Over him? What a farce!

He may care for his sister to death, but he would rather have you than her survive to be his lifelong assistant.

Especially now that his 'Father' gave him the role of Knave, and how his siblings have been punished for trying to go against him and save that sorry excuse of magician. Himself.

"Ah, I see how it is," he said, his voice merely a wheeze as his hand shook. However, it went still and firm once more, and he gave you a lopsided smile.

"Do you remember what I've told you before, hm? Back when we were simply 'survivors' in this forsaken manor?"

Your body shook.

"Magicians generally do not reveal the core secrets behind their tricks," he said, his smile widening. "And especially if it concerns their heart. However, I may just revoke that if you call me 'Master Lyney' and swear to be my only assistant— and only me."

He could see that you were shaking even more, and the fear was what drove him mad. Alas, he knew that he might nick at your gums if he got too rough.

Not that you mind, right?

"I'm curious how much of it you'd understand," he concluded, leaning over to continue in a whisper.

"And how long you'd last, hehe~"

And thus, he yanked your twentieth tooth, causing your screams to erupt all through the barren town and the Illusionist to shiver in glee. He always enjoyed the thought of performing, but maybe he has lost it while staying here for so long.

Putting the pliers away, he hushed you and began to rock your body, uncaring of the sobbing and your blood staining his attire.

"I just wish to make a point. And I hope you understand that, my assistant."

Alas, the day cannot last forever. Lyney knew that, and it's why he decided to do one last trick.

Covering your eyes, he grabbed a crimson red handkerchief— one tainted with your blood— and covered your face. With a whisper, he pulled it away, leaning back to see his handiwork.

"And... Voila!"

He seemed rather smug as he saw teeth were back in your mouth, each one untainted and straight like new. Still, the damage was done, as you continued to sob and wail, begging for him to not do it again.

...

That day didn't end in a simple denture fix, that he's certain of.

But he utilized what 'Father' taught him all those years ago.

And that was good enough.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2023

#💌 ;; message delivery #💌 ;; from: lyney #💌 ;; post: genshin impact #💌 ;; to: gen. neutral reader #tw: death #tw: gore #tw: teeth #genshin lyney #genshin impact lyney #lyney #lyney x reader #genshin #genshin impact #yandere lyney #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere lyney x reader #yandere x you #yandere drabble #yandere writing #yandere x reader

[hayisins]

arataki itto x begging !! ♡ "ugh . . . baby, please, i can't . ."

this prompt comes from this post !! so all credit to the idea goes to them ♡

contains : begging, animalistic sex teehee, overstimulation, size kink if you squint, creampies, afab!reader, service top!itto ♡

sometimes, having a boyfriend like itto has more than one perk. many actually. this man is an absolute saint. he loves hard and proves it through his copious amounts of love for the people in his life through different acts of service. being his partner was absolutely no exclusion from this. itto loved and cherished you deeply, everyone around you two knew it.

whether it was the large amount of lovebites on you at all times or even the way itto always had a protective arm around you in public, everyone was aware of the oni's love and passion for you. his smile when you'd walk into the room was brighter than a thousand suns and the way he talked about you was enough to make a married man feel single and lonely. you truly are the pride of itto's existence.

this being said, the man is rather addicted to you. itto will almost immediately do anything you ask him to without complaint . . so when you have him tied to a chair in your residence, sitting right on his lap where he cant touch or hold you. why it drives him crazy. it makes him almost feral . . but that's exactly what you want. he's grunting trying so hard to fight against the restraints you have on him but its all in vain.

"come on sunshine . . . this is so cruel !!"

he whines it like a child, a pout showing up on his perfect face in protest but you're not listening. you only roll your hips as to tease him even more, giggling to yourself at how pitiful all of this is. an oni, someone double your size, being tied down and pathetically begging to be released. all of this went to your head as you continued your motions. poor ittos cock was hard and threatening to burst out of its confinements.

"at least use your hand !! c'mon . . pleaseplease -"

you immediately cut him off with a kiss, making the oni whine into your mouth. all his sounds being beautifully swallowed up by you. he melts into this, trying to lean up to chase the softness of your skin as its the only part of you he's allowed to touch in this moment. you can feel a shift in him, something rather territorial as his breathing starts to get heavier and heavier. itto is reaching breaking point.

he lunges froward, the rope around his biceps snapping in a fury as now you're being pinned against the wooden floor. his breathing . . god is glorious. he's borderline panting in your ear, grunting and groaning as he fists a hand into his pants to free himself. there's no running from this. however, you believe that to be the case . . when all of a sudden his face softens once more. gentle kisses being placed against your exposed skin.

"that was torture . . please - let me take care of you. i'll do anything you ask just please let me touch you."

with the puppy dog eyes he's currently giving you, how could you refuse? with a small smile you nod and slowly sit up. you command him to remove your clothing as well as his own, the oni taking little to no time to do such actions. that's when the reality of the situation hit you. even though he was untied, you were still in control. he gave you the submission you wanted out of him without needing to be confined. itto was truly whipped for you.

your next command to him is something he'd more than happy to comply with. taking his length into his hands again itto now finds himself slowly pushing into the tight warmth of your walls, a loud satisfied noise leaving his mouth in pure bliss of such a feeling. truthfully, it has you biting your lip too. itto's extremely large and the bulging skin on your tummy proved this as he made his way fully inside of you.

he pounds into you with great force, a wave of moans and loud animalistic sounds following in his path. your vision blurs and you almost cant see straight. you want to cry out for a moment, to beg him to slow his pace but you knew that you truly didn't want him to. you wanted to be treated like this. this marks your first orgasm of the night. it has you shaking, spasming, and tugging at itto's hair. itto watches you like you're a movie. he stares, studying every single little reaction you make to the pleasure he gives you.

this is what makes him finish. he makes sure to pull your hips right down to his thighs, wanting to be fully inside of you while he cums. during his entire orgasm he's a mess of words,

"ohh fuck - you look so pretty - shit - archons i need to -"

is all he's able to get out before he's pounding into you again, both of you borderline screaming from such overstimulation so quickly after orgasm. this time its his turn to ignore you as you cry and beg for mercy, for him to let you take a moment to rest. he can't be bothered to comply this time, especially when you feel as good as you do. however he doesn't get far before he's whimpering again. itto pushes you into a mating press knowing just how good it feels for you. he howls in delight at such a nice feeling.

"ugh . . . baby, please, i can't . ."

the rest of his words fail him as he wails from the overstimulation. he finishes again, muttering copious amounts of things while he does - ranging from praises to degrading thoughts. it doesn't matter to him, nothing does but this - but you.

"you . . are like the biggest onikabuto you can find . . WAIT !! not like that - i mean like !! you . . are really rare . . and so so soooo pretty . . please, just a few more?"

those begging eyes never fail to work . . do they?

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