#just winged it without trying to make it make sense

[aemonds-fire]

Crush

Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female (Oneshot)

Summary: Months ago Aemond hesitated to tell you how he felt. After your boyfriend breaks up with you, he won't make that mistake again.

Word Count: 3807

Warnings: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, Little plot, lots of smut, profanity, Size kink, Praise kink, Aemond being hot, seductive, funny, and adorable.

Personal Favorite 💖

Masterlist

‘Why the hell did I let them talk me into coming to this club?'

You know your friends are only trying to help you get through a rough breakup. “It’s time to stop moping and sitting around in your pj’s,” they tell you. “You need to get dressed up, go out, and have some fun,” they insist. So you give in, pampering yourself with a full beauty routine, choosing a racy bra and panty set, and putting together a little black outfit.

Checking yourself in the mirror before you leave, feeling better than you have in the past two weeks, with some of your old confidence coming back knowing that you look good. When your little trio walks into the packed club, you’re glad your friends talked you into coming out tonight, instantly feeling the intoxicating energy from the flashing lights, pulsing music, and dancing crowd.

Snagging a spot at the bar, you buy the first round of drinks, genuinely smiling for the first time since your boyfriend broke up with you. You’re enjoying your second drink and playfully teasing one of your friends when you spot him on the dance floor. Your now-ex-boyfriend who has his hands on his new girlfriend’s ass.

Wanting to act like it doesn’t hurt, you let your friends drag you out to dance. You try to enjoy yourself; you really do, but now the music is too loud, the club is too hot, and you just want to get off the dance floor. Giving your friends a weak smile, you let them know you need a break from dancing and head back to the bar.

Squeezing into a gap at the crowded bar, you try to catch the bartender's attention. While you wait, your mind goes back to your ex-boyfriend. Even though the spark between you was fading, the breakup came out of nowhere. How quickly he had another girlfriend led you to think he may have been cheating on you. So strong was your suspicion, you went to get tested just to be safe. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ you tell yourself. ‘It’s over, and you’re better off without him,’ you try to convince yourself, but it still hurts to be replaced so easily.

You’re drawn from your thoughts when a drink is placed in front of you. When you look up, the bartender says, “It’s from the guy at the end of the bar.”

Turning to look in the direction she’s pointing, you see the buyer of your drink, his long silvery white hair an easy giveaway to his identity. With a tilt of his head, he motions for you to join him.

You’re relieved to see a friendly face, so you don’t hesitate to pick up your drink and make your way over to him. With a genuine smile, “Hi Aemond, I didn’t see you over here.”

Aemond Targaryen returns your smile and immediately offers you his seat at the crowded bar. “Fortunately, I did see you.”

“Thank you, and thanks for the drink too,” you tell him as you slide onto the stylishly modern barstool, draping your leather jacket over the back.

You’ve known the Targaryen siblings for about a year, with Helaena being the one you met first. Since you were new in town, she took you under her wing, showing you the best places to hang out and eat and introducing you to people, including her brothers. Aegon is laid-back with a great sense of humor. He’s also quite a flirt, but a playful smack from his sister made it clear that you were her friend and not to be messed with.

Aemond, who’s a few months younger than you, is very different. Nowhere near as open as Hel and far more serious than Aegon, he's always intrigued you. He’s soft-spoken and reticent, holding back much of who he is, and that makes him difficult to read. You think that guardedness stems from a childhood accident that cost him an eye and left his face scarred.

For a while, you wondered if he liked you at all or if he was just trying to be nice because of Hel. But at parties, your boyfriend usually ended up playing games with Aegon and the guys, and you somehow ended up hanging with Aemond, just talking. Having those chances to talk one-on-one, you discover quick intelligence, a wry sense of humor, and a few shared interests. You decide that he’s just naturally reserved—someone who needs time to relax around people.

“You’re welcome. I’m glad I saw you,” he says, leaning down a bit to be heard better. “You look amazing."

Smiling at the compliment, “You clean up pretty good yourself."

While you’ve struggled to get a handle on his personality, there is no question in your mind regarding his looks. Dressed in black, his button-down shirt and trousers look tailored to his tall and trim build, he exudes sleek athleticism. His casually rolled-up sleeves show off his slender forearms, a stylish, expensive watch on his wrist, and beautiful, large hands with long, slim fingers. His angular face has chiseled features that give him a uniquely handsome appearance. Not even the faded scar or black leather eye patch can detract from his striking good looks. Tonight, his pale, silvery hair is simply pulled back into a loose braid that ends between his shoulder blades.

Taking a sip of your drink, you give him a curious look. “I’m surprised to see you here. Let me guess, Aegon dragged you out and then disappeared in search of something in a short skirt and heels."

“Are we that predictable?” He asks with a crooked grin. “Aegon wanted to meet up with some pretty little thing he’s had his eye on, and I apparently need to get out more.” Reaching for his own drink, ”What’s your story?”

“Some friends decided I needed a night out,” you admit sheepishly. As you answer, you see your ex-boyfriend back on the dance floor.

Aemond, noticing your stare, turns to see who you are looking at. He then moves around to stand between you and the dance floor, blocking them from your view. “Forget about him; he’s not worth it.”

You look down at your hands folded in your lap, trying to push down the hurt you feel when he urges your chin up with his fingers. He looks at you intensely and says, “Don’t cry over that asshole. You deserve far better than the likes of him, babe.”

Meeting his gaze, you nod your head and pull yourself together. ”You’re right. It may take some time, but I’ll be fine.” You down the rest of your drink with a determined smile.

Before you can stop him, Aemond somehow manages to catch the busy bartender’s attention and motions for another round of drinks. When you protest, he leans closer, putting his arm around you and resting his hand on your shoulder. “I’m taking care of you tonight, pretty girl.”

“You'll be better than fine, and it won’t take as long as you think,” he continues with a cocky little smile. “You just need someone who knows how to treat you."

A little jolt goes through your body; whether it’s from the heat of his hand resting on your exposed shoulder or the difference in his demeanor, you’re not sure. This is a more confident and assertive Aemond that you haven’t seen before, and the little nicknames are completely new.

But unsure of your instincts, you jokingly say, “Yeah, some day my prince will come.”

“Hmm. Maybe he already has, princess,” he replies before leaning very close to you, his lips almost brushing against your ear. “I’ve always had a crush on you, always wanted you.”

His words cause a flutter in your chest. When he takes hold of your hand and starts rubbing his thumb on your skin, your breath catches in your throat. “You never said anything." is all you can manage to get out as you turn your head to look at him in surprise.

“That was a mistake I‘m not making again."

Your faces are only inches apart; you’re studying him with wide eyes while your mind races to process this new revelation. The sounds of the club disappear; all you can hear is the pounding of your heart. Closing the slight distance between you, his lips barely brush against yours before pausing, waiting for a signal from you to continue. When your lips instinctively part, he takes that as the go-ahead to kiss you slowly.

His mouth is soft and hot, and his tongue running along your bottom lip feels so good. He pulls back much too soon for your liking, now that passion has sparked inside you. When you impulsively reach to wipe a trace of your lipstick from his mouth, he quickly captures your thumb, drawing it into his mouth, licking and sucking on the tip before releasing it with a kiss.

As warmth rushes through your body, you can feel your skin tingling. The thinking part of your brain tells you this is a bad idea; it’s too soon after your breakup and too impulsive. But the seductive look on his face, the breaking of physical barriers, and his admission of wanting you has started a throbbing between your legs.

Since you’re still stunned silent, he takes the initiative. “Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

Biting your bottom lip, trying to sort your thoughts, you ask, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

Aemond’s mouth tightens at the question, “I wasn’t sure if the attraction was mutual or if you just saw me as Hel’s kid brother. So I hesitated.” He looks away from you before adding, “Then you met him."

Knowing that opening himself up to others is not easy for him, you gently squeeze his hand in encouragement because you’re raw from your breakup and you need to know just what you could be getting yourself into with Aemond.

Shrugging his shoulders. "You seemed happy, and I thought I blew my chance with you.”

Little things about your friendship start to click in your mind, bringing a smile to your face. Now you’re the one holding his hand, rubbing circles with your thumb on his skin.

With a hopeful smile, he asks, “Can we get out of here?”

His request makes your heart thump in your chest, and you shift your hips in your seat before asking, “Where to?”

“My place?” Quickly adding, “We could talk some more or..." leaning close to your ear, his voice dropping lower with desire. “I could show you how much I want you, princess.”

Deep down, you’ve always loved the sound of his voice, and this new seductive tone causes a shiver to go up your spine despite the heat that is spreading through your body. Almost before you realize you're doing it, you’re slipping off the barstool, hoping your legs won’t shake.

Steadying yourself with a light hand on his chest and smiling up at him, you take a breath and say, “Alright, we can go... talk.”

Your reply earns you a rare, dimpled grin from him. He helps you slip on your jacket before firmly grasping your hand to begin leading you through the crowd to the exit. On your way out, you pass a grinning Aegon, but Aemond only glances at his brother, not bothering to stop.

Once outside, in the chill night air, he puts his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot. “You’re just going to ditch Aegon?” You ask with a chuckle.

“He knows what I’m up to,” he replies with a smirk. Laughing at your expression. “Aegon would get your boyfriend to play those stupid games at his parties so I could have some time with you.”

Reaching his car, he pulls you into a slow, deep kiss, holding you close to him with his large hands on your hips. Soon you’re fisting at the soft, expensive fabric of his shirt because it feels so fucking good kissing him, feeling him press his hard body against yours. You let his tongue tease its way past your lips to dance with yours as his fingers dig into your skin before he reluctantly pulls back to open the car door for you.

During the drive to his place, you text your friends, reassuring them that you are with Aemond and that everything is fine.

Curious about something, “So when Helaena would suggest a girls movie night, but we would end up at your place, you put her up to that?”

“I did not; she volunteered to do that.”

“My friend sets me up so her brother can walk around like a slut in sweatpants and a messy man bun. Wow, you Targs are something else,” you laughingly tease.

“I was desperate, pretty girl." His blush was visible even in the dim light of the car. “But you noticed,” he chuckles.

Aemond’s apartment is in one of the pricier buildings in the city, but you know his family has money. You’ve been here before, hanging out with the siblings for movie nights. Before you can even toe off your heels by the door, he pulls you to him with one arm around your waist, burying his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, then soothing the little bites with his tongue, making you moan softly.

“Wanted you so bad for so long,” he murmurs between little wet kisses over your throat.

Playfully, you tease him while tugging on his long braid. “Have you been thinking dirty thoughts about me all this time?”

“Fucking filthy thoughts,” as he crushes his lips against yours in a demanding kiss that takes your breath away. You both work to shrug your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. You can feel the wetness forming between your legs as his long fingers caress the bare skin of your waist.

Pulling his shirt up, your hands explore the lean muscles of his flawless skin. When you bite at his lip, he groans into your mouth and grinds his hardening cock against you.

Trailing his lips down your neck, “Tell me you want me. I need to hear it," he pleads.

“I want you, Aemond; I want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly.

With your words, the last shred of restraint either of you had disappeared. By the time the two of you reach his bedroom, both of you are half naked, leaving a trail of clothing and shoes along your path.

“Fucking gorgeous tits,” he mumbles against your hardend nipple before taking it into his hot mouth again, sucking eagerly. Your other breast is being cupped in his strong hand, his fingers teasing the delicate peak. “Perfect tits all for me,” he hums as he switches to begin lavishing the other with attention.

His loose braid is long undone, and your fingers are tangled in his silky, soft hair. You can’t resist the urge to bait him a little. “You think just ‘cause you lick it, it's yours?”

His eye immediately shoots up to your face, and you feel a rough hum against your skin. Backing you up until your legs bump into his bed, he playfully pushes you down on the mattress.

“Aemond?” You squeak as you see the evil gleam in his eye. Kneeling on the floor, he pulls your legs to the edge of the bed and presses his face between them, rubbing his nose over your covered clit and inhaling deeply.

Resting on your elbows, you watch him tug down your panties, leaving you naked. He pushes your thighs wide with his large hands, and you see him shamelessly stare at your soaking wet pussy. “Who made you this wet, princess?"

You let out a gasp as he flattens his tongue and licks the length of your slit, never taking his eye off you. “Mine now,” he says with that familiar smirk of his.

Giving him your best, not impressed look, “It’s gonna take more than that, Targaryen.” you reply sassily. You watch him stick out his long tongue and start flicking your clit, before placing his lips over your little bundle of nerves, alternating between sucking gently and swirling his tongue over it.

Before long, you fall back on the bed, closing your eyes and giving yourself over to the wonderful sensations his mouth creates. His lips and tongue move through your folds, teasing your entrance, before returning to your swollen bud. Every little whimper or sob he pulls from you seems to spur him on. Compared to your ex, Aemond is the pussy eating champ.

Finding a rhythm that has you moaning “Fuck, you’re good at this.” He swells with pride, determined to make you a quivering mess. He relentlessly applies just the right amount of pressure on the right spots again and again. Your world is nothing but sloppy, wet sounds coming from between your legs and the orgasm building deep inside you.

When you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, your nails rake his scalp, causing him to moan into your pussy. "Mmm, baby, I’m close..don’t stop,” as you start to grind your hips against his mouth. Before you know it, waves of ecstasy that have your toes curling are crashing through you,leaving you shaking and breathless.

Aemond stares at your quivering pussy, watching more wetness leak from you. “You never answered my question. “Who makes you this wet? Hmm?” 

Still blissed out from your orgasm, you gasp as he slides a long finger inside you. “You do, only you,” you whimper.

“That’s my pretty princess,” he coos as he adds a second finger, slowly dragging them in and out of you. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy?”

‘Mmm yes,” While he rises from the floor, you move to the center of the bed, stretching contentedly and giving your legs a rest. You enjoy the sight of his erection straining against his boxers while he opens a drawer in his nightstand and pulls out a condom packet.

“Aemond, we can skip that if you want. I already got tested after the breakup; all good.

“I’m good too, promise," he says as he drops the condom back in the drawer. Lowering his boxers, he frees his hard cock. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue at his perfect size while you watch him lazily stroke himself. Just looking at him makes your pussy clench; he’s the perfect blend of beauty and masculinity.

“Do you realize how fucking gorgeous you are?” You wonder aloud, your voice smokey with your arousal, taking in the glorious details of the sight before you. From his tousled hair falling past his shoulders to his defined, lean muscles and slim hips, you think he is a work of art.

His pale skin, already flush with his own desire, colors even more down to the tip of his beautiful, long shaft. Joining you on the bed, positioning himself so he is looming over the length of your body, he lowers down to kiss you, his hair falling in a silvery curtain around your head. You can taste yourself as he plunges his tongue past your teeth, deliciously invading your mouth.

Wrapping your arms around his waist and your hands on his back, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his weight on top of you. The soft hairs on his chest and legs tickle your sensitive skin, while his cock is hot and hard against you. You part your thighs wider to let him settle between them, curling a leg around his hip.

“You ready for my cock, pretty princess?” His voice is rough with his need to be inside you when he starts moving his length between your sensitive folds, coating himself with your slick wetness.

Nodding desperately, “Mmm, yes,” you murmur, ready to start writhing beneath him.

Finding your entrance, the head of his cock slowly pushes into you, making him hiss, and he doesn't stop until he can’t go any deeper. “Fuck, you're tight around me.” Slowly, he withdraws halfway before sliding back in and holding himself steady. Giving you a cocky grin, “I think you’re used to something smaller being in you.”

You know it’s true. You’ve never felt this full before, so wonderfully stretched. Your eyes go wider, and a moan escapes you when he gives a more forceful, deep thrust into you.

“Hmm, I’m right,” he smirks knowingly. His muscles flexing with each snap of his hips.

Sensing that he eats up praise the way he eats pussy, you’re happy to give him what he wants. “Fuck, you’re big; it feels so good.” Each time his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, a little jolt of exquisite pleasure goes through you, and you grip his hips harder, raking your nails along his skin.

“So beautiful.” He’s captivated by the sight of your tits bouncing as he pounds into you. “Taking all of me so well, princess.” He coos as he hooks an arm under your knee, the new angle causing more friction against your patch of nerves as he somehow picks up his pace.

“Close, so close,” you whimper. It’s not long before the tightened coil suddenly snaps, making you cum hard with an earth-shattering orgasm that leaves your body shaking.

Your pussy clenching around him starts to send him over his own edge. His balls tightening as he keeps fucking you through your climax. His release leaves him grunting and shuddering as his cock twitches and spurts hot cum deep inside you.

Both of you are left reeling as Aemond rolls off and flops on his side next to you. He gently gathers you into his arms, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair.

You can hear his soft hum of satisfaction, and you can feel his heartbeat against your hand on his chest as you lie in his arms, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“You good, princess?” He asks and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead with your contented sigh of "yes." Soon you both force yourselves from the too-comfortable bed to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, Aemond gives you a soft, well-worn t-shirt to put on while he is already wearing gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, no shirt, and his hair is up in a messy bun, earring a muttered, ”Slut,” from you.

“How come I call you princess, and apparently my nickname is 'Slut'? he teasingly asks.

“Awww, would you rather I call you ‘Prince Aemond'? You come back with mock sarcasm.

Grinning, “Prince Aemond, I like that.” Laughing when you roll your eyes at him, he heads to the kitchen for water and snacks for both of you.

#aemond targaryen #aemond smut #aemond #modernaemond #modern aemond #aemond fanfic #aemond fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x reader #aemond x y/n

[honeywiththemoneyloa222]

WHO AM I??

Hi baby

I’m going to talk a little bit about myself

I don’t wanna reveal too much

My face and everything else will remain anonymous for safety and privacy💕

Name:

My name is Honey(yes this is my birth name lol)

You can call me by my name or honeybee

Or even honeycomb

Do NOT call me beehive 😡

Unless it’s related to Beyoncè💕

Age: 23

Topics:

I discuss the void state, Law of assumption,Reality Shifting (I haven’t talked about this yet but will if you need more info)

And All kinds of Manifestation methods

How to talk to Honey!!!

Just dm me any questions I don’t take asks anymore so if you have any questions just feel free to dm me

Ethnicity/Nationality

My mom is Afro Peruvian, Indian,and Haitian

My dad is Jamaican

Sooo

I’m black hehe🤟🏾

I don’t do these I’m super private it’s soooo weird omg

What do I like??

Music food animals

Did I say music because

MUSIC!!!!!!

My favorite artists

I love all kinds of music

Even death metal occasionally

I like Harry Styles,Kid Cudi,Lady Gaga The Beatles,Ice Spice and many moreeeee

I also love movies

Literally almost any kind

But anyways

Let’s talk about something more interesting!!

Now that you know me(kind of)

I want you to know about this technique I discovered

It’s not new at all

In fact ppl on here have already talked about it I’m just late

As usual 😔

Anywayyyyyy

There’s a technique I want you all to try

It’s called the

“Wim hof breathing”

Method

No methods are needed But if you really want one

Then here you go pookie

(Found this on a website but it won’t let me copy the link😔)

WIM HOF BREATHING METHOD

Find a comfortable position.

Breathe in deeply through the nose or mouth and through the belly to the chest. Then let the breath go unforced.

Exhale through the mouth, then immediately breathe in again.

Take 30–40 such breaths in short bursts.

Take one final, deep inhalation then let the air out and stop inhaling. Hold the breath until you feel the urge to breathe again.

Inhale very deeply to full capacity and hold for 15 seconds, then let it go. This completes the first round.

Repeat the whole process, steps #2-6, 3-4 times.

After completion take time to meditate and enjoy the state of deep relaxation

After the very last step you should be a deep trance like state you should be really relaxed

I recommend that you let your next subliminal play

Which should be

Either a theta or epilson wave track or pink noise

Make sure your desired subliminal that plays after is Not a guided meditation you wanna still be in a trance

Start affirming in that point

And don’t stop

Just feel how relaxed you are feel that powerless body but powerful mind

Your body is at ease your soul and mind collide in such ways that allows you to breathe freely without any stress no harm

In the void state

Your main goal should be getting peace

Because if you’re entering just affirm

You’ll likely put it on a pedestal you’ll get frustrated and give up

It is not a wish granter bitch

It’s you

Baby you are powerful

Baby you are pretty

Baby you can tap in the void

And make the bring the 4D to your 3D and make it your home

Don’t use the void as a wish granter

Use it for peace

Don’t treat the 3D like the enemy

Treat it like a friend

After all it exists the way it does because of your assumptions

Whether you say this is hard or this is easy

Sugar, you’re right either way

Because if you assume something then that’s how it’ll be

If you think you’re pretty you’re pretty

But if you think you’re broke

Then you’re broke

If you think you’re rich

Then you’re rich baby

You could have wings

Superpowers

Be the biggest singer or rapper in the world

Star in the next Dune Movie

Be best friends with Ariana Grande

Be a Scientist

Be smarter than Albert Einstein(I mean was he actually super intelligent if he lacked common sense)

You could be get a bigger butt!!

I mean didn’t necessarily have a pancake ass

But I definitely didn’t have a Nicki Minaj

BUT I DO NOW!!!!

And bestie you can too!

Plastic surgery who???

Do we look like a Kardashian-Jenner?? I think the f not🙄

The void is our plastic surgeon

You wanna a smaller nose?

Got it

Tig ole biddies?

Got it

Nicki Minaj butt?

Got it

Floor length hair?

Got it?

Whatever you want to change about yourself

Got it!

And for the last time babies

You ALWAYS ENTER THE VOID EVERYTIME YOU SLEEP

Mentally just be

Physically sleep

In that moment baby

Forget the 3D and its fuck ass bob

Because the 3Ds not your enemy but its your puppet

You’re a ventriloquist CONTROL THAT MF

The 4D is you

The void is you

Quit saying what you can’t do babe

You CAN BECAUSE YOU ALREADY DID AND YOU STILL DO

“HoNEy I StiLL didNT gET inTO tHe vOiD”

YES YOU DID!!!!!!

You did it

You just didn’t know

Bro the void is just recognizing you’re asleep

And getting in contact with your mind

Which is where you already go when you go to sleep

So ha

Billie

There’s your answer

When we fall asleep

That’s where we go

The mf Void State

The only thing your cute ass has to do baby

Is just be aware

When Neville Goddard says just “BE”

Bitch just BE

That’s it

Be aware

Like that SpongeBob episode

“Be the crane”

Be the Void

It’s just you love

So why you stressing

Why complicate something YOU created?!

Baby girl make it make sense

Own your power bitch

I love you My darlings

Month is almost over

Bring me my success stories

Or I’ll be your sleep paralysis demon 😈

(Just kidding)

Or am I;)

NOW BITCH LOOK!!!!

YAYYYY

Imma keep pressuring you to listen to this(NOTE YOU DO NOT NEED SUBLIMINALS)

But I like this one🫠

Wrong emoji

I can’t find that cute one at the moment I’m rushing cuz I wanna eat my burger!

SLADE:

https://youtu.be/oKU8YIicYQg?feature=shared

THIS

because it’s soooo peaceful

Slade is the best

BYE BITCH GO GET THAT DREAM LIFE NOW!!!

I love you ⭐️💕

#law of assumption #law of attraction #void state #void #law of manifestation #manifesting #manifesation #subliminals #loassblog #loassumption #reality shift #desired reality #reality shifting #dream life #desired life #loablr #loa success #loa blog #loa tumblr #law of the universe #manifesting affirm and persist #robotically affirming #affirm and persist #affirmation #meditating #guided meditation #meditation #void success #Youtube

[teal-tealwren]

he's scheming making evil plans definitely not thinking about goats nope never

#can't believe im saying this but the prosthetics were actually fun to draw #just winged it without trying to make it make sense #i've cracked the code #docm77 #docm77 fanart #hermitcraft fanart #hermitcraft #hermitblr #mcyt #mcyt fanart #my art #tealarts

[will-o-wips]

It is 4 am. I'm staring at the ceiling of my bedroom, coincidentally having my phone right in my line of sight, and write this with the exasperation and intense focus that I probably won't ever have again. I'm about to attempt to make any sort of sense of the latest Hayao Miyazaki movie, The Boy and the Heron (or rather, How do you live? in Japanese), that I watched for the first time in theatres a day ago.

I cannot claim to be right, or to know everything about this movie. Actually acclaimed critics and people with obviously more braincells than me have probably better takes than I do. But I must speak, lest the insanity truly take over my brain, lest I really end up combusting because of how much I want to talk about this.

Prepare yourselves for the most incoherent train of thought and line of consciousness you will ever experience.

FILLED WITH SPOILERS READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. YOU WILL NOT UNDERSTAND UNLESS YOU HAVE SEEN THE MOVIE.

Before I start with my actual thoughts, however, I'll state my personal feelings about the movie, because I feel that matters too, and this is my post anyway so! But I personally left the cinema feeling somewhat mellow. I was not insane about it yet. It was,,, "meh". The impression of the ride was great; I was giggling along with the funny and even sometimes not purposefully funny moments, I enjoyed the animation to the point I would genuinely flap my hands in excitement at how good it was, I understood the story in great lines by noticing small details and going "oh so does this mean x?". But I did not cry. Not a single tear during or after or before the movie. I did not waver with my opinion on it as I rambled about it to my friends online and irl, much to their annoyance. I did not hesitate when I put it in my silly little Studio Ghibli movie tierlist maker that I update whenever I watch another one of these films together with my friends, categorized (in)discreetly under "all vibes no plot but there's a witch/wizard". I still don't, in fact.

So, given all of this, you'd probably say that I disliked the movie. That I would not have so much to say about it, after doing my mandatory ramble and update. Wrong. I still have more to say, somehow.

Despite that, I didn't rewatch the movie itself. I read an entirety of one (1) review of it, together with one (1) random video essay of 8 or so minutes, covering the basics of it. I reblogged one (1) post about its protagonist on tumblr and otherwise kinda read through the rest of the posts on here. I did not re-experience or re-examine this movie again. I cannot (again) accurately reference anything besides that what I vaguely remember from watching it a day or two ago. It's not playing anywhere near me anymore/not out anywhere else yet, so really, I don't even know what possessed me to write about this, or even say anything. The most fascinating thing (to probably all of us here) is; what made me change my mind about it?

It might've been the review on IndieWire. David Ehrlich and his well-written review, bringing things into much needed context as to why this movie was created. It could've been the fact that I've actively processed the movie better, now a little bit of time has passed. [Honestly it deserves a second watch/view for something more concrete, but I'm repeating myself with this, you get it.]

But I don't even really understand it myself. I felt and still feel so detached from this movie in a sense. I appreciate the artistry that went into it, and I adore the way it simply tells the story and leaves it up to interpretation. It references every single film Hayao Miyazaki has ever made before, and elements of other Ghibli films can probably be found in there too, if you looked hard enough. The vibes were similar to those of Spirited Away, and Howl's Moving Castle, given how inexplicably fantastical the world was. It just existed and breathed, and we as the audience jumped straight into it. We never got more exposition than what was needed; honestly I have a feeling that the second half of the movie was the vaguest piece of media I have ever consumed in my life. But it also had this perfect balance of the more drama-focused Ghibli films. The Boy and the Heron, in my opinion, is like the golden middle between reality and fantasy, both in terms of its narrative as well as comparison between other Ghibli movies.

This might also be the reason why I felt confused. The lines between reality and fantasy were so effortlessly blurred, that you could only process a singular picture. And when things are vague to me, I constantly need to pick them apart and analyse them, simply to satisfy my own curiosity.

The moment before I stepped into the movie theatre, my friend who watched along with me told me they heard it was a film about grief. I nodded along and said "yeah, okay, that just means it's another one of many Hayao Miyazaki and Ghibli films. Most of them are about some kind of loss, and dealing with it, either way." I sat down together with them; row 9, chairs 17 and 18, with my two bottles of water (one carbonated, one stilled) and the bag of terribly sour packaged chocolate pretzels I bought at the theatre itself. Horribly overpriced for the quality, I must say. My friend held onto the popcorn, and we sat through the ads, talking and laughing, anticipating something that was supposed to blow us away.

I cannot speak for my friend, but I think they really liked the movie regardless. They didn't cry at it either, even though we both know of each other that we always cry at such things. Somehow this movie evoked a certain stillness in us both; a stalemate between emotions and confusion. Maybe delayed processing. Maybe something else entirely. We both, or at least I, hid it until later.

It was midnight, and right before we stepped on our train home, I was excitedly going on about the references and animation, the things I did appreciate. I bragged a bit about how I recognized Kenshi Yonezu's voice in the final credit song that we didn't get to listen to entirely, because it was so late and we had to rush to get home. They laughed at me and told me to take some time to actively formulate any coherent thoughts on it. I disagreed (lovingly and jokingly of course), and we left it at that.

In the train itself, the same high dimmed into a simmer, the excitement replaced with contemplation, and I kept talking.

I told them: "I believe that this truly is his last film. This felt like a goodbye." And in return, they replied: "It's crazy how this is the last time we'll ever get to live in such a moment. The release of the final Ghibli movie in theatres.

"I'm glad we got to go."

I was too.

I got home, rambled about the intrinsic way The Boy and the Heron referenced other Ghibli movies to my online friends who had yet to see it. Followed by a heated tangent about how When Marnie Was There truly could have had better direction in regards to the narrative, as well as how Only Yesterday was the most boring out of all Ghibli movies. It was a nice night. I didn't think about the movie again.

The following morning, I contacted other friends, who told me about how Robert Pattison voiced the Heron in the English dub, which I hadn't seen or heard at all. He did a great job, judging by the trailer. This led me to another opinion, namely the video essay (I will try to find it and put it in the notes later if you are curious), which claimed something similar to this (of course, paraphrased):

"This is a farewell. The one true movie to tie such an expansive career. It is another movie where you are allowed to explore the magical together with the main character, while sticking close to the processing of it all."

The review I read said it was a swan-song, that it was the question and title of the movie in Japanese, posed at us, after The Wind Rises left it open to interpretation at the end of its run. That this was a story about the legacy that Miyazaki is leaving behind, how reality and fantasy coexist together, possibly influencing each other (not explicitly said but what I interpreted that review saying, so no this is also not completely like this).

Other tumblr posts I've seen on here say it was a film most likely dedicated to his son, Goro Miyazaki. That it was a gentle "I'm sorry, the shadow I leave behind is huge. I know that you will try and fail to fill it. It's okay; you don't have to. You can leave it behind. It's alright if this legacy dies with me."

Some other sources I've seen compare the main protagonist to Miyazaki himself, trying to grapple with the ending.

Yet somehow, all of these interpretations seem to fail to explain the entirety of this movie. The bigger picture if you will. These themes and moments and interpretations are not wrong, but to me, they're not satisfying enough.

Because maybe I am the only one who actually was insane about this moment, but I will never forget the delivery room scene between Mahito and Natsuko. How Himi addresses the magic stone, pleading to let the two go, saying "Natsuko and the boy who is to be her son". (Again, paraphrased, I cannot remember the exact line.) Maybe I am the only one who witnessed the whimsical fire witch and the going back in time plots and the fact that a younger Kiriko and Himi were there, already part of an ecosystem. How we already know from the other grannies in the house that Mahito's mother disappeared once for a whole year into the tower, and then came back the same as before. How the pelicans were BROUGHT there, that they did not belong there, and yet were forgetting how to fly. How they ate the Warawara, these creatures that were rising above to be born in the upper world. How the Heron's weakness was his 7th tail feather (or something along those lines), and how the fish and the frogs chanted for Mahito to join them in the tower. That the great-great-uncle was hoping for Mahito to succeed him and build a new tower, yet the king of the parakeets butted in and haphazardly did the job, resulting in it immediately toppling over, as well as the stones getting cut.

I think about the final scene where the Heron says "It's best to forget. Do you have any keepsakes?" And Mahito shows not only older Kiriko's figure, but also a piece of the stone paths they walked upon in order to get to the centre, the beating heart, the magic stone and his great-great-uncle.

How this is taking place during a war, that the timeline goes from his mothers death that Mahito cannot get over, to the welcoming of his stepmother and his new younger sibling. Them moving back to Tokyo. The way the tower completely collapsed. Completely and utterly collapsed and perished; not even a trace of it left behind. The way that older Kiriko keeps yelling it is a trap to Mahito in the beginning, but that both he and the Heron know. That it is inevitable to tread this specific path. That he must see for himself, whether his mother is truly alive. The way she both was and wasn't; first a mirage of her older self disappearing into a puddle of water, and second a firey spirit of her younger self coming to help Mahito. The way that he reads and cries at the book she left him, the way he hits himself with a rock after his big fight with his classmates; the way Mahito in general drowns consistently in the beginning of the film. He drowns in the fire that he lost his mother in. He drowns in the mud and the dust when he tries to enter the tower at first. He drowns in his dreams, in his tears, drowns right into his quest to find Natsuko (straight through the floor, by behest of his great-great-uncle), drowns in pelicans trying to eat him, nearly drowns in the actual sea until younger Kiriko fishes him out.

Now these things may seem like me just randomly naming shit that happens in the movie. Hopefully in a slightly poetic way, possibly. I could go on and on about the imagery, truly. But my point is, this movie may have been Miyazaki's last movie, his way of closure, his way of speaking to his son about his legacy, his way of describing the grief of losing his mother (idk if this is autobiographical or not. It very well may have been), yet...

Even so, it doesn't really fit the entire picture. It feels incomplete. The analyses always focus on the true meaning behind this movie, what happens behind the scenes, this one key climactic moment between Mahito and his great-great-uncle. But that's as if you would ignore the rest of the movie in general. As if the fantastical aspects weren't there to abstractly tell a story besides just being a symbol of closure for the person that directed it.

Personally, this is a tale of rebirth. Of losing yourself, and then rediscovering yourself in a way. I associate it with my own personal loss of my grandfather; the family member I felt closest to out of everyone.

The way you look back at such a traumatic stage in your life, something that irrevocably changed you for good, something that you probably don't ever want to relive again, but also mustn't forget. The way you instinctively are afraid to learn about who the person you love and grieve was, before you were in their life.

To this day, I still cannot speak to my mother about whether my grandfather had a favourite song before me forcing him to sing along with my favourites. A favourite book before he read out bedtime stories to me tirelessly. Who the boy in him was, and what wisdom and life lessons he carried on, into his grave, into the hearts of his children.

This movie depicts so much more than just grief, it's so much more than just legacy, even. It directly reflects the way I know I would have felt had I dared to actually see things for myself. If I actually dared to go through my grandfather's old things; the books he wrote and dedicated to me, the books he read when he was young. This movie depicts not how to live, but how to live on.

And the only way to live on is to move forward. To look at the foundations upon which it was built, to evaluate whether you truly want to have this be your burden to carry for the rest of your life. Mahito's abstract grief in regards to his mother, and the solace he finds in the fact that he at least knew who she was; that he at least had her in his life as both his mother and the girl that his stepmother knew, that at the very least he knows his mother would do it all over again, if she could. That despite everything, she did not regret a thing, and that she was not afraid. That somewhere, in the past, she lives on, happily marching toward this fate, because she knows that Mahito will be there to meet her again in the future.

And Natsuko, god, she worries relentlessly about whether Mahito will accept her. She worries to the point she yells at him, telling him that she hates him and his existence, because he rejects her so coldly and yet still bothers to show up in front of her during her most vulnerable moments. That he only takes and takes and takes; he steals her cigarettes in order to learn how to sharpen a knife from one of the servants. He uses those techniques to create a bow and arrow, a weapon. He gets into fights at school, he gets gravely injured on the side of his head, leaving a lasting scar.

If I were in her shoes, I would be furious at him too. Especially if he walked straight into the delivery room, trying to drag me out of bed while I was doing my damn best to keep the other child in my belly alive.

That scene, that sheer rage, and the way it ALL FUCKING SUBSIDES the MOMENT Mahito accepts her and calls her mother. The moment Mahito understands that through the literal whirlwind of plasters, things used to tend to wounds, none of those pleasantries/guards will truly allow him to reach her. The way he tries to nurse his own wounds, as well as try to nurse hers, over the loss of their shared connection (Natsuko's older sister, Mahito's biological mother), will NEVER allow him to make a connection with her. By being careful, by being polite, he will never get to be her son.

And he realizes, in that moment, that he wants to.

The magic stone tries to stop this. The magic stone dislikes disruption; dislikes things changing, dislikes breaking traditions (the taboo of entering the delivery room). The parakeets in the tower flourish because they follow the magic stone's whims more or less. They agree to follow its rules, even if it means they are prone to its abuse, because it gives them an advantage, a place to stay. The pelicans have to eat the Warawara, because there is no other food available to them.

The way younger Kiriko says "you reek of death", and how they establish this place is mostly made up of death and dead people. Dead people, or dying people, creatures that are begging to survive another day. Creatures that are begging to be reborn. That want to change, that wish to fly once more.

My mother once gave me a poem dearest to her heart. We have always been a family filled with literature and stories, but my mother was always the best at both writing them and reciting them. She used to read them out to me, back when I was in a particularly bad spot mentally, to the point I could not get out of bed for weeks on end, to try and reach me. She read with the sincerest passion in her voice, a small plea to get me back to the girl I was before.

I cannot explain or remember the poem by heart, but once I was at my true rock bottom, she told me to look it up. A Serbian poem, written by Miroslav Antić (I will add the name of it later), that was about growing up and growing into your own person. It made me weep, for it had a phrase I think I can only translate to this:

"Run and don't look back."

Somehow, whenever I look at all of these birds and creatures in this fantasy world, trying to fly desperately, trying to get to the skies, trying to get to even live, and think about the fact that the only way they can is by leaving this place. That the only way they can fly and survive as themselves is by leaving this tower, this stone, this foundation. By leaving and being born, by leaving and being reborn.

And, after all of this. Somehow I'm not even done yet. I haven't talked about the great-great-uncle in depth, nor the king of the parakeets, nor the heron whatsoever. I have not yet even touched upon what I might think the magic stone is, and the sheer amount of like symbolism I picked apart in my brain because of my insanity.

I'm probably not the only one who noticed these things. But so far I haven't seen anyone actively share these things, so, I will do my best to continue and genuinely wrap it up as best as I can. So that this can also bring the same amount of closure as the movie does.

The magic stone is like a shooting star that came onto the earth. It realizes dreams and worlds of whoever dares to walk into it and claim to own it; like how Mahito's great-great-uncle got obsessed and built a tower around it, caging it, taming it. And yet he still had to play to its whims, consistently making sure his own tower of blocks did not fall, that all of his work did not amount to nothing. Personally, I do believe the great-great-uncle could represent Miyazaki himself. That Miyazaki is trying to express how he built Ghibli and that now it has been going on for so long, and it has become unmanageable to continue upholding it. That it is time to retire.

A thing I find interesting and remember pretty well is the conversation between the parakeet king and the great-great-uncle. How they talked about Mahito's transgression, breaking into the delivery room (side note: he broke in and broke through to Natsuko with his mother's spirit. Mahito became Natsuko's son with the blessing of his mother; with the sheer love she had for him being carried on and through), and how the great-great-uncle says something akin to this:

"It is why I wish for him [Mahito] to succeed me."

"I cannot overlook such a transgression."

I feel this is important. It is key to how the great-great-uncle views Mahito in this. Because Mahito was not sent out on this quest to find Natsuko out of pure selfishness. Sure, his uncle would have wanted him to succeed him, but the entire reason WHY he believed in Mahito to begin with, is the fact that this boy was able to break the foundation and the traditions in the first place. Mahito inherently disobeys from the chosen path. Mahito inherently does not believe the Heron when he says that all herons lie. Mahito doesn't waver when the heron flies straight at him, he doesn't sway when the frogs or the pelicans overwhelm him. Mahito stands firm in who he is, even if he is trying to deal with new circumstances. Mahito inherently goes to places he should not be in (his curiosity for the tower). Mahito has enough power on his own to create a new tower, but only by rebuilding it from scratch.

This ready acceptance that the great-great-uncle has towards Mahito's decision NOT to inherit his legacy, is what makes me believe this is what this movie is supposed to represent. Break away from the old, off into the new. Closure. Moving on.

This is also reflected in the sentiment that Mahito truly DOES move on. He goes back to his family, his father, school, he goes back with Natsuko as his mother and a new younger sibling to Tokyo. He returns there where he came from, but he is not the same anymore. He is reborn into a new Mahito.

And god I feel like I'm repeating myself to death here; I really should have thought about the structure of this, but give me some slack okay. It's like 6:30 am already and I'm still not done, despite continuously writing and labouring at this.

So, the tower that immediately falls apart by someone who always follows the whims of a dream (the parakeet king and the stone respectively). God it is just such a momentTM. Because in the end even this shows that the parakeets, too, even though they by far had it the best in that goddamn tower, had to leave. For they could not build something on their own without learning who they were outside of the already established. Outside of just following the rules and all.

They had to leave, my GODDDDD.

As I'm getting progressively more unhinged, we shall move onto the most unhinged character in this entire fucking movie. The Heron himself. God there's too much to unpack here, really, but the truth is, the Heron was supposed to be the guide to Mahito. The Heron was supposed to be Mahito's biggest, most aggressive enemy, the direct antagonist to Mahito's protagonist. The Heron doesn't want change. The Heron tries to bribe Mahito with the fact that his mother is still alive, that he need only enter the tower, and lose himself to illusions and dreams. That fantasizing about his mother being alive won't only drown him more, that it won't just let Mahito sink into the deepest pits of his despair and anguish about such a death, that losing yourself to the belief that something is there when it is not wouldn't only be counterproductive. The Heron masks himself consistently; he says that all herons lie. He says that he only has one weakness, his own feather, that allows the arrow to automatically target him. In essence, the Heron shot himself in the foot beak. He himself slipped up in his mirage world, and came out to be who he truly was, this weird little man with a huge nose and a conniving demeanour. He adamantly cannot disobey the dream, for then his true nature comes peaking out (a small detail I absolutely love is the fact that the Heron's feathers also disappear out of Mahito's hands when Mahito is called back to reality by the grannies. The grannies protect him in the dream world too, by being his tether and support system while he gets over himself and starts trusting Natsuko). The Heron doesn't WANT to be a guide, for in order to be a guide, you must tell the truth. You'd need to know some facts about the world around you and share this information with the ones seeking guidance. This is how I believe Mahito understood the Heron before we did.

It's not that all herons lie; it's just that this particular one does not want to face the truth/reality.

Another interesting detail: the whole reason why only Mahito was able to cover up the hole in the Heron's beak was reminiscent about how only those that called you out can really patch up your old image. Only those that have poked holes in your false narrative are able to fill them back up again, and even then it is not the same, and even then it will not always be comfortable/reliable.

Either way, the Heron, after this wings partially turn into hands, his true nature, is unable to fly all that well for a while. He relies on Mahito's corkscrew thing in order to relish in his comfort zone of lies again. But throughout the movie, the Heron slowly starts to ignore the corkscrew completely; simply opting to stay in his (frankly, freakish) half gremlin man half heron costume form. The Heron changes because Mahito inspired him to change. Even though his image used to be spotless before, and he tried to deceive Mahito, after a while, he stopped doing that. The mutual trust both Mahito and the Heron had grew. The Heron became a person, although his heron-ness would never go away.

The Heron thus warns Mahito that he should want to forget. That he will forget, either way. That this struggle of his to grapple with the reality of his situation, and the fantasy that he was delving into, will become a far-off memory that Mahito should not revisit. The Heron, I believe, is genuinely trying to look out for Mahito.

"Don't dwell in what you have already overcome. Don't revisit the things you have already outgrown."

And this is where the movie more or less ends. Mahito still keeps that stone, and his mother's book, and he goes back to Tokyo; the only crucial difference is that he has overcome his own grief.

Now, I've said this like a billion times now, but this is the rebirth. This is what I think this movie stands for. What it means, at its core. This is what it means to live; to move on and to cut ties with that what has no place in your life anymore. Miyazaki, I think, is trying to give us closure, a final farewell to Ghibli altogether.

Now I don't know about any speculation that he might come back again, and personally, I don't think it really matters. If he does come back, good for him. I just don't know enough to say anything for sure, so I'll just say I cannot say.

Either way, I think, even though Miyazaki conveyed the need for a new start/a rebirth, he didn't really end on the complete abolishment of all that used to be. You are allowed to keep mementos of it; even though the Heron advises not to. Mahito is allowed to reflect upon this experience, to see it as another stone in his foundation/formation, to say that, yes, the spirit of this change will always stay with me, although it has passed.

Just like how Mahito's mom was someone who returned to the past without regrets. She never came back. She was a spirit that pushed Mahito forward, and he will always remember her, but it's better that she stay a memory than become a fantasy.

This is why I'm so impressed by this movie in general. I'm so thankful that I was able to witness this with a friend of mine. I'm glad that I was able to see this, even though my insanity knows no bounds, and the fact that I didn't even think about any of this until I really sat down to look through the options of interpretations.

I'm so glad I got to go. Now it's time to run towards the future, and never look back.

#the boy and the heron #genuinely what was I on actually #I can't believe I am writing this/have written this #Disclaimer: I am really just saying shit please do not take this as the end all be all or whatever; I just need to say it just in case. #oh btw this is DEFINITELY not meant to critique or dismiss any of the people that have other opinions than I do #I just needed to put my own interpretation out there #together with my few flourishes of storytelling here and there even though I'm not even sure if it makes any sense whatsoever #the boy and the heron spoilers #spoilers #I think like. there is so much more to be said about this. there is so much more that can be touched upon #without the repetitive stuff of unstructured “just wing it” (ha ha get it. because there's so many birds and flying metaphors in this.) #essays and shit like this #like I haven't even touched upon Mahito's father and the entire airplane thing that could just be a reference but also- #it could be a metaphor in how his father is trying to overcompensate and how he just wants Mahito to fly again so he creates and works so- #hard that he eventually just ends up being absent in Mahito's life. #which is sickening. (positive/bittersweet) #anyway I am still just saying shit. enjoy the??? idk essay upon essay upon essay of late night insanity.

[syekick-powers]

my self esteem with my art has gotten better in a lot of ways in the sense that i no longer agonize over whether or not something looks "bad", but operating ONLY under the metric of "am i, personally, satisfied with how this art came out" does have its side effects. like. i've gotten way better at accepting compliments on my art and no longer feel the urge to debase myself when someone says i did a good job on something, but now sometimes when people compliment me, instead of being like "oh my art sucks this part is so bad" blah blah blah im just like "i legit had no idea what i was doing when i drew that so im glad it came out looking correct!"

#sye's babbles #like half the time when im drawing these days if im trying to draw something i dont have a lot of experience with #i tend to just kinda. wing it. and just do whatever looks approximately correct #without actually making the effort to understand what im doing on a deeper level #like with all the fuckign oc poll tournament pieces ive been doing #one of my online friends told me 'you're so good with clothes' #when like #i don't actually have a mental understanding of how clothes physics works most of the time #i just kinda. draw some random lines that are going in the approximate direction of the movement #i dont actually feel like i know what i'm doing at ALL #and yet people compliment me on it #it's ALMOST like impostor syndrome except it doesn't have the feeling of having tricked people #it's more like #'damn... it came out looking good? im genuinely surprised you think so but thanks anyway' #it's less impostor SYNDROME and more like #improvisation success #if that makes sense #i'm shortcutting the process of drawing something in a way that looks good #but doesn't FEEL like i'm actually learning anything #so when people compliment me im just #'hmm. seems like what i was doing landed. i dont know how or why but i accept it.'

[anantaru]

can i have some sunday headcanons, if you are okey with that?

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ synopsis. spicy sunday headcanons that live rent free in my head, cw. idk just horny, messy, pussy eating, all that stuff and i almost forgot: he has a fat cock, fem! reader // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

sunday catches himself day dreaming a lot, and it's mostly poles apart from what he's usually preferring in the bedroom— by all means, it's nothing too out of the ordinary, but the man had developed a strong liking towards trying out new discovered kinks between you two.

to sunday, the most important entity of trying out new kinks was your comfort, he loves and respects you, and he wouldn't want you to be uncomfortable in any way. in fact, before you dabbled through those new twists, you both agreed on a safe word to keep you from crossing each others boundaries.

alas, exploring them along with how well he would fuck you only added to the arousing press inside your belly. sunday wants to taste you absolutely everywhere until his senses were occupied by nothing but your scent and flavor— to trace the flat of his tongue between your fat folds until your skin was hot and quivering, your hands clenching in his hair and you're begging, hoping he'd push you over the edge until you come and come and come against his wet muscle playing with your clit.

you should tug his hair more often too, or even better, stroke over his wings with your digits until sunday gets aroused by it.

to elaborate further, the moment you begin to subtly squeeze and tug on the feathers, he could never recover from the loss of your hands against them, it's as if the man had grown addicted to you battering your palms across his wings that he never wanted it to end.

he slurrs his words as he kisses your clit before silently licking across your belly, slow huffs and ragged groans along with the laps of his tongue crossing your entire body.

he assured you he's going to taste you everywhere, didn't he? after all, he'll give you anything you want— like the pleasure you deserve.

shortly after, he settles between your legs and slowly fills you to the brim, adding inch after inch until his erection was snugly compressed by your walls, the thickness of his shaft pressing down on your nerves and making you feel like you're flying rapidly without moving.

at last, sunday finds your lips and grinds himself into your warm core, your breasts crushed against his chest as he thrusts into you before bringing your knees up so he could press them against your chest.

the man was beginning to shift his weight to pin your hips with the weight of his body, before applying a brief kiss to the inside of your knee as you look at him in awe, head lolled to the side with your eyes glowing clear and wide.

you cannot stop yourself from admiring your boyfriend, and neither could your body get used to his erection crushing your insides— turning your skin hot, warm, cold, quivering, searing, until your bodies touch and stick together like burgeons of fire. your pussy lips swollen up and your eyes soused in a haze as sunday smiles at you lazily from above, lovingly patting your head;

"you're holding up great, my dearest,"

..."i'm so proud of you."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #sunday x reader #sunday smut #hsr x you #honkai star rail x you #sunday x you

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Miguel Having A Crush On You Would Include…

Warnings: Implications of Smut, Obsessive Miguel, Possessive Miguel, Implied Yandere Miguel, Miguel in Love, Vampire Marking, Marking (Kind Of), Fluff, Typical Crush Behaviour, Petnames/Nicknames, No Pronouns used for Reader Except ‘You’.

Him being absolutely OBSESSED with you.

Literally completely feral, down bad, infatuated, etc.

Initially, when he realised he’d started liking you in a romantic sense, he tried pushing you away; tried drowning his feelings in work, missions, Hell – even resolving petty spats between the Spiderpeople at the base. Anything to exorcise this rising feeling of butterflies in his chest whenever you were around. Vulnerability.

However, you were persistent.

You’d bring him lunch whenever you knew it would be a long day in the office for him, telling him that “Even the best superhero needs a sandwich every now and then!”

And by God were your sandwiches phenomenal.

Though he’d never admit it, his heart would skip a beat whenever the door to his office opened, knowing that it could be you paying him a visit with your delectable lunchables, or even just to check in on him. Make him feel special in ways nobody else had or could in years.

Eventually, this turned into a daily affair; one Miguel would watch the clock for, wait for. Long for.

Miguel also tried hiding his feelings when you brought him hand-crafted, love-filled desserts that he just couldn’t bring himself to ignore or throw away. Or, when Miles offered to take them off his hands, let anyone else have.

Eventually, there isn’t a day that goes by where you aren’t with him in some capacity. And it shows.

Whenever you’re late, even only by a few minutes, Miguel can feel his heart spike, asking Lyla where you are, if she can track you, etc.

“Sounds like you liiiike (Y/N)~” Lyla gives Miguel a knowing smile.

Miguel just grunts, ignores her. Though, he can feel the corners of his lips turning up, and hides them behind a well-placed hand, rubbing his temples.

Soft glances whenever you’re in the room, all his attention turning to you and you alone.

He just loves to stare at you. You’re so beautiful that he can’t understand why nobody else passing you has to stitch their dropped jaw back onto their face.

Then again, he is grateful. The fury that bubbles inside him whenever he catches someone glancing at you, gaze lustful, is all-consuming, enough to make his teeth grind, his eyes bleed a light rouge hue, piercing. He makes sure they’ll never cross paths with you again.

Gradually, your warmth and kindness thaws his walls, and, once the floodgates are open, neither you nor he can predict the dark ocean that is to flood your lives.

He doesn’t mean to throw himself full-force into his feelings, but after being so guarded for so long, he just can’t help it.

Becomes overly-concerned with every facet of your life. More so than he already was.

Constantly trying to find out information about you, though being stumped as to how to do so without arousing your suspicion.

Asks Lyla to track you, see what you’re doing, who you’re with, their relation to you.

However, she begins to deny Miguel such luxuries, telling him to “Grow a pair and ask (Y/N) yourself!”

When he realises Lyla is steadfast in her resolve, he does so. Reluctantly.

Though, once he starts, he finds it difficult to stop.

“Where are you going after work?”, “Are you going out tonight with anyone?”, “Who?”

Eventually, you just look up at him, seemingly oblivious to his growing desperation, and say: “Gosh, Miguel, you’re starting to sound like you’re my boyfriend or something!”

His heart stops. His throat dries and he just looks at you, eyes wide.

One second passes. Then two. Then–

“Oh– uh– yeah... I mean, not that that’s weird, right? Unless you think it is weird, then–”

Lyla has to step in and save him from himself, telling him he has ‘urgent business’ in one of the other wings of the facility.

His suit suddenly feels too tight and too hot beneath the collar whenever he has to speak with you alone.

And tight in…other places when his mind wanders to the more intimate aspects of your hypothetical relationship.

Miguel likes to rationalise this as him preparing how best to please you when the time, inevitably, comes for him to claim you, make you his. At least, this staves off the post-nut clarity (guilt) just a little longer when he’s pursuing a release, blasphemous images of you running through his mind.

A good example of this occurs almost nightly, with Miguel thoroughly loving a pillow clad in a shirt he’d lent you once, your scent still woven, though faded, into the fabric.

Many nights, his face is pressed to the cotton of that shirt, muffling his lips and his moans as his teeth sink into your temporary body, extending, marking, hand moving fervently beneath the bed sheets, your name the chant of many a spell of ardour.

You might mistake that red glow on his cheeks for the illumination of the console screens, but anyone who looks close enough knows better.

He loves showing you around the facility. Especially when your eyes light up and you remark how intelligent he is for “Doing this all on your own,”

Any compliment from you makes his heart thrum and his cheeks burn with the urge to smile. And, if it’s only you in his company, he does so.

Maybe even give you a nervous laugh.

You’re the only one he feels comfortable with showing emotion to.

He hopes that his displays aren’t lost on you; that you know him well enough to know that every smile, every laugh, is for you and you only.

And he is determined to, one day, make that smile of yours for him. And only him.

But, for now, he will content himself with daydreams and night ventures into territory not yet known, all the while possessing a seat beside you, being a shoulder for you to cry on, an ear into which you may pour your worries, a hero on whom you can always depend in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.

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

Masterlist Masterpost

Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #yandere miguel ohara #spiderman astv #spiderman #spiderman 2099 #yandere spiderman #spider verse #spiderman x reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #into the spider verse

[earthtooz]

x : BANDAGED HEART :*+ﾟ

in which: blade finds out you're injured and can't contain his anger.

warnings: gn!reader x protective!blade, fluff, mentions of blood and injuries, 'who did this to you?' trope with blade LOL, slight manhandling, did i mention that he's protective?

a/n: blade debut, omg? this sucks btw but this was inspired by this comic that i saw the other day :> it just reminded me that the 'who did this to you' trope existed and i went YES and took my own spin onto it so, i hope you enjoy!

the smell of antiseptic wafts heavily through the air, bandages sit tightly rolled beside you, and you hiss at the sting of the antibacterial ointment slathered over the open wound on your arm. 

it hurts. 

blinking the tears away and gritting your teeth to bear with the pain, you reach for the unused roll, clumsily unravelling them with shaking hands and a blurring vision.

“oi.” a raspy voice from behind catches you off guard and you turn around from where you’ve seated yourself in the corner of the medical wing, having helped yourself to a supply of ointment and bandages. 

a familiar swordsman and fellow coworker towers above you, glowering at you through the streaks of his bangs. maybe if you weren’t on the verge of fainting, you’d have the energy to fear him.

“oh, it’s just you,” you mutter, “can i help you?”

his eyes glance you up and down, as if scanning you for any indication of misadventure. feeling uneasy under the intensity of his gaze, you return to trying to rip the bandages with bare hands since you had not brought scissors or even a blade with you in your haste. 

feeling the blood from your wound drip down your arm and onto the floor beneath you, you cringe, hurrying up so you don’t make a mess. this whole patching-yourself-up-thing should have been easy, but without something sharp and half your strength evaporated after a gruesome mission, it was much harder than usual. 

the growing frustration you were feeling was not offering much aid either, and with blade practically towering over you, you try not to let your fluctuating anger overwhelm you. 

aeons, it was as if you were sent on this mission with elio praying for your downfall. you’re lucky that you managed to get out with only a scratch on your arm and a missing weapon. it’s going to be hard finding a replacement for it, but when you just looked death in the face, you can’t say you have much to complain about that a weapon was the only thing you lost. 

suddenly, two hands sneak underneath your arms to lift you up, breaking your train of thought with a tight, unforgiving grip as you’re effortlessly placed onto a hospital bed right beside you. meeting the ruby eyes of the swordsman, your breath lodges uncomfortably in your throat, and you have to rip your gaze away from him; the intensity would paralyse you otherwise. 

“where are you hurt?” he asks, sounding more like a demand than a question. 

“i can do it myself,” you grumble. blade takes the bandage out of your hands, holding back your wrist that instinctively reached out to grab it back. the glare he shoots you from the corner of his eye placates any complaint you have.

“show me.”

reluctantly, you present your injured arm. he mutters a very quick and quiet ‘stay here’ before stalking off. a faucet is turned on, water begins running from a nearby sink, and blade returns with a wet cloth. 

grabbing your wounded arm, he cleans around the area, rubbing the blood that has trickled down your arm as well. he’s scarily gentle with you, attentive to your every wince and hiss, halting momentarily every time you let a noise slip. 

he makes quick work of patching you up, flawless and effortless in his technique. makes sense, you suppose, since he is covered in these. 

you wonder how many times he’s had to do this on himself. a small part of your heart aches thinking about it.

“thank you,” you whisper when he’s done, gratitude silently swirling inside you. grabbing the bandages and cloth, you slide off onto your feet. “i’ll put these away.” 

stepping in front of you, his body intercepts your path and you’re pressed against the bed, frozen under him. there’s an indescribable look of fury in his eyes, his red eyes seeming even angrier than usual. 

“what happened?” he asks.

you have hold yourself up, suddenly weak in the knees. “just a typical mission, it’s nothing you should worry about.”

the fellow stellaron hunter does not look satisfied with your response. “what do you mean ‘nothing you should worry about’? who did this to you?” he asks, punctuating each word with a dark expression. 

“blade- please, can we not talk about this right now?” you mutter, “i’m tired and i just want to sleep.”

he narrows his eyes. “who. hurt. you?”

“why? what can you do about it now?”

“kill them.”

you scoff. “yeah, right.”

blade wedges a leg between yours, hindering your escape even further by leaning himself closer to you. “i’m serious.”

“so am i. if you’re thinking about hunting them down, then please, don’t bother. let it go.” you mutter.

“but you got hurt.” 

“i get hurt all the time.”

his brows scrunch together, a small indication of the dangerous protectiveness growing within him. you interrupt his train of thoughts, placing a brave hand on his chest; right over his heart. ‘i’m fine. you don’t need to worry about me.”

“i’m not worried,” he grumbles lowly. 

“oh. i see.”

he grabs your hand and takes it away from his chest, holding you gently. “i’m angry that you got hurt.”

you’re speechless, blinking at the swordsman who raises your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on the back of it. it feels like a promise- not that you know what said promise is, but with that look in his eyes, you know it’s not a peaceful one. 

“so why don’t you tell me the truth? who did this to you?”

the answer slips past your lips before you can help it and when the words are spilled, a creeping guilt invades you. whatever he’s planning, you know that bloodshed will follow.

“see, that wasn’t so hard.”

in a blink of an eye, blade is gone, taking the intense pressure with him. he left so quickly that you wonder if he was ever here to begin with. the lingering brush of his lips is the only indication that he was not a figment of your half-aware conscious.  

© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

#blade x reader #blade hsr x reader #ren x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x gn!reader #blade x gn!reader #blade fluff #blade x reader fluff

[shisurus]

can't stop thinking about dungeon meshi btw. how it comes down to being able to appreciate the hard and painful times because of the moments of happiness you experienced along the way.

it's about falin being able to forgive and look beyond the harsh way things were done- be it their father announcing he will send her away from the village or laios leaving her behind- partly due to her personality, and how she used to prioritize her loved ones' needs and emotions over her own, but also because of the positive impact that road eventually had on her. she knows her family was trying to protect her but what truly made it impossible to regret the path she had to take were the precious memories she made later on- it was learning magic and seeing new places and becoming friends with marcille and of course she couldn't hate it all, she was happy. it's about laios feeling so utterly miserable because on his end, it seemed like nothing good or enjoyable happened to him after leaving home, aside from the letters written by falin. but how long can a child be satisfied with another's happiness which he never got to experience himself?

so it really is beautiful that the series started off with him realizing that this journey allowed him to finally feel that happiness he was yearning for-

-and ended with everyone else realizing it too. when you first read chapter 11 it's just a funny gag about people not understanding laios, but it genuinely was too early for them to share his sentiment. they needed to come to terms with it on their own, with chilchuck opening up to them and senshi resolving the hovering mystery of his past and izutsumi freeing herself and joining their party and marcille facing her greatest fear. the winged lion was taking advantage of the loneliness and anger and pain lingering in laios's heart, but even it couldn't deny this. how, despite everything, he couldn't be satiated and his own happiness couldn't be complete without his friends' happiness too. how it was always about everyone enjoying a meal together.

and then there's marcille, who refused to admit it until the very end. it's in the way she had such a hard time fully accepting eating monsters despite how tasty she found them, not just due to how weird they were but also because she tried rejecting and burying her own pleasure and joy during this entire journey. from the very beginning, she was only willing to endure the pain and suffering.

as if she couldn't accept feeling an ounce of comfort, satisfaction, let alone happiness while falin was suffering on her own. and it might've been laios's reaction as well if all of this had happend a decade ago- i mean, that's exactly what he did back then. blaming himself for leaving her behind, being tormented by her loneliness and absence while falin was actually slowly moving towards a brighter future. it was him that was stuck, not her. but he kept focusing on her pain to ignore how deep the hole in his own heart had become, consumed by guilt to ignore his own agony, or to make sense of it- because maybe he did deserve it after all he had done.

and for that reason marcille was so terrified of admitting there was warmth in what she considered the depths of hell. because it would mean accepting falin going ahead of her and leaving her behind, accepting the inevitable she was trying so hard to deny and the end of her dream.

but it was learning there's joy even in her worst nightmare that allowed her to finally embrace those moments of pleasure that made her life worth living, however short they were. she realized that her pursuit would take away the things that truly mattered to her, that if she had succumbed to her fear of loss she would've been the one hurting her loved ones, just as happened to thistle. laios asking her to use ancient magic for falin's resurrection and then encouraging her to not give up on her desires during the nightmare chapter was a direct parallel to delgal being the one to push thistle down the road of destruction, while both marcille and thistle were trying to protect the people most important to their friends.

but in marcille's case, laios was able to understand her at the end, pulling her back just before she descended to complete ruin. it's truly fascinating how the story is not only about laios being understood but also getting to understand others properly, deeply- it's about mutual understanding, the balance between two people he never managed to maintain before. and i think it's only after seeing thistle's tragedy that he was able to fully realize what might become of marcille down the line. so while delgal put the weight of the world on thistle's shoulders, laios was the one to tell marcille she doesn't have to do that. because even if falin's resurrection hadn't succeeded, they both already know- there's happiness even in the dungeon's pit. and it's by preparing a hearty meal made of her loved one's remains that marcille was able to truly accept it- thus allowing herself to enjoy it to the fullest, embracing the cycle of life, no matter how weird or painful or grotesque it is.

#and chil was weirded out by how marcille of all people was truly delighted while eating falin 😭 #the character development through mealssss #dungeon meshi #marcille donato #laios touden #falin touden

[serpentandlily]

Now That We Don't Talk

Part I

Now That We Don’t Talk - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Dealing with the aftermath of your mate’s betrayal.

Warnings: major angst, mentions of grief and loss, mention of infidelity 

a/n: this has a happy ending, I promise! I’d also like to mention that I never usually blame the woman when a man cheats, but in this case, both parties knew of the existing relationship and bond so *death to all of them* lol jk…for now…I hope this lives up to your expectations!

────────────

“That’s it, Y/n,” Madja said, taking a step backwards as she carefully monitored you between two support beams. “Go slow.”

Your shoulders and arms were straining as you held yourself up using the two beams, slowly raising your foot to take another step forward. You groaned at the pain, feeling flustered and embarrassed that walking was taking you so much effort. 

Cassian and Nesta had turned one of the larger chambers in the House of Wind into a physical remedial room. You had sessions in here every day with Madja, Cassian almost always there with you and in times he couldn’t be, Rhys would fly up to be with you during these. 

You didn’t have the heart to tell your brother that you preferred when Rhys was here instead of him, only because he always magicked his wings away so you didn’t have to see them. Cassian’s were just a reminder of what you had lost. 

Relearning to walk has been one of the hardest parts of losing your wings.

Even now it was a struggle to simply stand. You were too used to the weight of having wings on your back and using them to balance. You felt their absence in more ways than one.

But this one was easier to deal with—the physical part. It was the mental and emotional part that still kept you up at night. The loss of freedom, having to know you’d never be able to fly again. The nightmares. The embarrassment. The shame. 

You had never been a particularly proud Illyrian, never agreeing with the way your people were raised and the culture they lived in. But still, having those wings made you a part of something bigger than yourself—a community, a tribe, a family. 

You weren’t like Rhys, not a half-breed like him. You didn’t have the pointy ears to make you fit in with the wingless High Fae. You’d always be other to them. And now you’d be other to your people as well. 

You tried to blink away the tears forming in your eyes but it didn’t matter. Your brother seemed to sense the change in your mood and rose from his chair in the corner where he had been monitoring the session.

“You’re doing great, kiddo,” Cassian said, trying to encourage you to keep trying. “One step at a time.”

“I can’t,” you choked out, your muscles straining from the effort to keep you upright. “I-I can’t.”

“You can and you will,” Cassian said, sternly. “Come on, I know you can do it.” 

“I can’t.”

You wobbled, letting out a long exhale. You had only made it halfway to the other side of the mat. Pain pierced through your still healing back, serving as another reminder of what you had lost. Your fractured hip had healed already but the bones still felt like they were being grinded together every time you moved your legs. 

“Thank you for your help today, Madja,” Cassian said, sharing a look with the older healer. “I can take it from here.”

Madja, as if also sensing the shift in the atmosphere, took her leave without argument to give you some privacy with your brother. 

“Just make sure she eats something after this. Her body needs more nourishment,” Madja said on her way out. The noise of the door shutting behind her was all it took for the hold on your emotions to completely crumble. 

You felt your legs give out as a cry escape from your throat. Cassian darted forward, catching you only just before you hit the ground. He slowly lowered you the rest of the way, going with you to hold you in a tight embrace as sobs racked your body. 

“I-I can’t do this, Cass,” you cried over and over again. “I can’t do this.”

He knew you weren’t just talking about walking.

Every intake of breath reminded you of the heavy weight of your heart in your chest. It was unbearable, all consuming. The heartache, the pain, the feeling of the mating bond still lingering in the background of it all. You wanted to rip your heart out, wanted to scream and scream but all that came out were inaudible words and sobs. 

“It’s going to be okay, sweetheart,” Cassian murmured, petting your hair on the back of your head. “I promise you.” 

“My wings, Cass, m-my wings are gone,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face.

Cassian cradled your head in his neck, pulling you tighter against him. His own body was tense and you knew he was holding back his own emotions, trying to be strong for you. “I know, kiddo, I know.” 

“M-my wings,” you cried. “My wings. I-I want them back, Cass. P-please, I want them back!”

“I would cut off my own wings and give them to you if I could, sweetheart,” Cassian whispered, his voice filled with despair. “I’m so sorry.”

He couldn’t understand this feeling, would never unless he too lost his wings. You remembered when he almost had after protecting Azriel in Hybern from the blast of the Cauldron. Azriel…Just thinking of his name was making you spiral further, choking on your own sobs. 

There had once been a time when Azriel had been the one to save your wings. And now he was part of the reason why you lost them. You weren’t even sure which hurt more at this point. His betrayal or the loss of your wings. 

Both felt so violating. 

A piece of you, of your body, ripped away along with your trust and heart. Your mate sleeping with another female and coming home to you. Looking you in the eyes and keeping that secret from you each and every day. Making love to you knowing he was sharing himself with another behind your back. How were you supposed to move on? 

It didn’t help that you weren’t fully rid of Azriel. The bond was still an unwelcomed presence inside of you, still sang his name–called for him–despite the hurt he had caused you. You wanted to tear it to shreds. 

“Why?” You cried, wrapping your arms around Cassian’s neck to fall into him further. Your brother held you as tight as he could, stroking your hair, whispering words of support in your ear. “Why wasn’t I g-good enough, Cass? W-why wasn’t I enough for him? What is wrong with m-me?”

The guttural wails that came from you caused Cassian to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to keep his own tears at bay. Your chest heaved as you struggled to even breath under the crushing anguish that was consuming you. He held you as you shook, held you as your tears soaked through his shirt, held you as he restrained himself from shooting off to go find Azriel and kill him. 

“There is nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. Nothing,” Cassian growled. “Azriel is a fool for losing you. He’s the fuck-up. Not you.”

“He is my mate, Cass, my mate. And he–he did this to me. Why?”

“Because he’s a miserable bastard who doesn’t know how to love,” Cassian growled. 

You couldn’t even register his words over the pounding of your own wailing heart. “What did I do to deserve this?”

You felt so violated, so vulnerable, so completely and utterly shattered. The pain of your broken heart seemed to echo in the depths of your very soul. Why hadn’t you been enough for him?

Was Elain just that much better? Was she prettier, smarter, a better female? Could she give him something you couldn’t?

“You didn’t deserve this. You did nothing wrong,” Cassian murmured into your hair, kissing the top of your head. “You are so much better than them, sweetheart.” 

“B-but then why wasn’t I enough?” Your cries met their crescendo, your hands shaking as you clung onto Cassian’s shirt with tight fists. “Why wasn’t I enough, Cass? Why?” 

Your voice was hoarse, your words cracking as you spoke. But there was nothing left to say. 

Nothing left to say at all. 

You weren’t good enough for Azriel, for your own mate. You weren’t good enough to keep his attention. Not good enough to keep his love. 

You were just simply not enough. 

Cassian held you there as you cried and cried, held you as the weight of everything you lost engulfed you. Held you through the raw grief that surged like a tempest within you. Held you until you had cried yourself into a fitful sleep, only then rising to carry you back to your room. 

────────────

As soon as Mor had gotten word about what had happened, she immediately started her journey home from the continent. She had gone to you the minute she landed in Velaris, but Cassian had turned her away because he didn’t want to interrupt your sleep, something you hadn’t gotten much of since the attack.

But that was okay because she had a few things she needed to take care of. 

“Where is she!”

Mor’s shout rang through the entire house, the ground quaking underneath her as she stormed into the dining room where a very morose dinner seemed to be taking place with Rhys, Feyre, Elain and Amren at the table. Rhys shot up from his seat. “Y/n is at the House of Wind with—”

“Not her,” Mor snarled before pointing a finger at Elain, who stared at her wide-eyed. “You.” 

Before anyone could stop her, Mor launched herself forward, grabbing Elain by the hair on the back of her head and slamming her face down on the wooden table she was sitting at. Rhys cursed while Feyre jumped up from her seat, thanking the Gods that Nesta wasn’t here for this. 

Rhys grabbed Feyre by the arm, shaking his head at her. “Some things need to be fought the fae way. Let her learn.” 

Amren leaned back in her chair, not so much as flinching at the display. 

Mor kept her fist wrapped in Elain’s hair, pressing her face against the hardwood as the other girl cried out, blood dripping down her nose.

“That was for Y/n because she’s up there learning how to fucking walk again because of you,” Mor hissed before yanking Elain up by her hair until she was standing. 

Elain cried out for Feyre but her sister just pressed her lips into a thin line, Rhys’s hand still around her arm. Feyre was disappointed in her sister for what she had done but she still bristled as Rhys’s amusement at the scene traveled down their bond.

Mor decked Elain in the face, the sound audible, causing Feyre to flinch. Elain’s head whipped to the side as she dropped to the floor with a loud sob. “And that was for Cassian because he would never lay his hands on a weak, pathetic female but I will. Remember that.” 

Elain’s cries rung out in the room, blood dripping from her now broken nose and a bruise already forming on her cheek. Mor ignored her as she looked to Rhysand.

“Where is the other one?” Her voice was full of anger. “I’m going to fucking kill him.” 

“I don’t know,” Rhys sighed, finally letting go of Feyre. She rushed to Elain’s side, helping her off the floor and out of the room, giving Mor a remorseful look, feeling guilty over what her sister had caused. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“He disappeared once Y/n woke up and made it very clear she didn’t wish to see him. I have no idea where he went.”

“That fucking coward,” Mor grumbled. “Why is Elain still here? This is Y/n’s home, not hers. She shouldn’t have to be the one who leaves and you know she will if those two are still around. Cassian would leave with her too—I’m sure of it.”

“I know he would,” Rhys said, sitting back down and putting his head in his hands. “I don’t know what to do, Mor. If Elain wasn’t Feyre’s sister I would’ve had her banished in a second and Azriel…Gods, he’s my brother. I can’t believe he would do something like this. He loves Y/n. I don’t know why he would hurt her like this.” 

“Azriel has always been his worst enemy,” Mor sighed, sitting next to Rhys. “We’ve all tried to help him as much as we could but this just isn’t something we can help him with. Y/n is going to need our support. This could destroy her.” 

“It already has,” Rhys replied. “She might leave our court regardless of whether or not we send Azriel and Elain away. I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve already let her know that if she wants out, I’ll have everything set-up for her.” 

“What of the girl’s mate? The redhead,” Amren piped up, crossing her arms. “Does he know yet? You know how males are. He might call for a blood duel against Azriel.” 

“Lucien has already been informed about what happened,” Rhys spoke. “Cassian has been on a warpath and was all too eager to tell Lucien. I think part of him hoped he would duel Azriel. But Lucien wouldn’t.” 

“So what happens now?” Mor asked. 

Rhys looked at her and she took note of the heavy bags under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping. Neither had she. She was certain none of them had. Azriel had caused a giant rift in this family—one felt by them all. 

Rhys held back his tears, clearing his throat.

“I know what was to be done,” he breathed out. “But it’s going to be hard. He was…He was my brother for over five hundred years. Regardless of what he’s done, it’s going to be hard to say goodbye.” 

Mor rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I know, Rhys. Nothing about this is going to be easy.”

“He cannot be trusted anymore,” Amren added. “Anyone who could cheat on their mate cannot be trusted. He might as well have spit on the Mother’s face for what he did.”

“I just want to know why. Why would he do this?” 

Mor let out a long breath. “I’m not sure you’ll ever get an answer. I think Azriel, himself, can’t even answer that question.” 

“I failed her, Mor. I knew how dangerous that mission was. I should’ve never given it to her,” the quiet cry shook Rhys’s body. 

“Azriel was supposed to be with her, Rhys,” Mor said. “It’s not your fault. He failed her. This was his doing.” 

But Rhys just shook his head, the tears finally slipping free from both of their eyes. 

“Get it out now, Mor, before you see her,” Rhys choked out. “It’s…hard to see her in the state she’s in. Prepare yourself. We have to be strong for her.” 

“I know,” Mor whispered, wiping at her tears. “I know.” 

────────────

“Hey, kiddo,” Cassian’s voice pulled you from your sleep.

You blinked awake, groaning at the pounding in your head. It took you a second to realize you were in your room. Cassian must’ve carried you here after your breakdown yesterday. 

Cassian was sitting beside you, stroking your hair. “I brought you some breakfast and someone is here to see you.”

It was only then you noticed the other person sitting at the end of your bed. 

“Mor?” Your voice was hoarse, the word barely escaping. “You’re here?”

“I came back as soon as I heard,” Mor said, leaning forward to clutch your hand in hers. “How are you doing, babygirl?” 

Mor had always felt like an older sister to you. Her friendship with your brother had made the two of you close. 

“I’m…I’m not doing good,” you replied, honestly. “I can’t…I don’t know what to do, Mor. I don’t know how to move on from here. Part of me wishes I died in that alleyway. I wish I died the minute my wings were cut off.” 

“I know,” she said, sadly. “I wish I had an answer for you but I don’t. It’s going to be hard, but we’re going to be with you every step of the way.” 

“Come on, why don’t you sit up so you can eat,” Cassian murmured, putting a hand on your back to help you up. 

“I’m not hungry,” you protested.

“You have to eat something, sweetheart,” Cass said gently. “Madja’s orders.”

But you shook your head. You didn’t have an appetite. Everything still hurt so much. 

“Just give her a second, Cass,” Mor murmured. 

Cassian frowned but nodded. He brushed some of your hair away from your face again and the soothing motion started another round of tears. 

“Hey, hey,” Cassian whispered. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay, Cass! How will I ever be able to show my face again?” you cried. “I will be shamed, spit on, shunned because I lost my wings—because I couldn’t fight for them. I can never return to Illyria. I won’t be able to help train with the girls anymore.” 

“Emerie told me the girls are already awaiting your return. They miss you,” Mor reassured. “Who cares about what the stupid males are going to think? Most of those females have had their freedom of flight taken from them. They would never shun you for what happened.” 

Your eyes fell on the many bouquets of flowers and get well cards on your nightstand. Cassian had been bringing them to you. Your heart ached at the sight. 

“But I failed them, Mor,” you sobbed. “I failed them. I’m supposed to be strong. I’m supposed to be a warrior and all it took was one male to completely destroy me. I’m worthless to them now. How can I teach them to fight for themselves if I cannot even do that?” 

“You are not worthless,” Cassian said, sternly. “You are more of a fighter than half of those Illyrian males. You continue to fight each day knowing you have to live with the loss of your wings. Most of the males would’ve given up already, sweetheart. You are stronger than you think.” 

“I-I’m not. I’m weak and a failure,” you cried. “I couldn’t protect my wings. Couldn’t keep my mate’s love. Couldn’t…couldn’t–”

Your sobs overtook your words, your entire body shaking. 

“Listen to me, Y/n.” Mor demanded. “You are not weak. You are not a failure. You are a million times better than the two assholes who hurt you. You will survive this. You will survive him. I promise you, Y/n, I promise you.” 

She embraced you, holding you as you broke down into gut-wrenching sobs once again. 

────────────

The air was tense to say the least. Rhys was standing behind his desk, palms pressed flat against the surface as he stared at the two people sitting in front of him. Feyre stood next to him as both a pillar of support and the High Lady. 

Azriel’s eyes were downcast. He hadn’t even looked at Elain since he had been dragged into this office by Mor—a new black eye and a bruised jaw decorating his face. Elain stared and stared at him, her eyes pleading with him to look at her but he ignored her presence. 

Azriel looked rough. He hadn’t shaved, his eyes were bloodshot, but the most surprising thing was his lack of shadows swarming him. 

“Where are you shadows?” Rhys asked. “I swear, Azriel, if you sent them after Y/n, I will bring Cassian down here to do with you as he pleases.” 

Azriel looked up, shaking his head. “They won’t sing to me anymore. Not since…Not since the accident.” 

It was true. His shadows had hissed at him, recoiled in his presence before they dissipated as if they too had felt his betrayal. They had wailed in agony at the loss of Y/n. They had always skittered away in Elain’s presence, probably the only reason they never yelled at him when he was with her…but it seems this time, they had left for good. 

Despite his curiosity, Rhys decided to drop the subject. This was not the time or place for that discussion. 

“Feyre and I have come to a decision about what must happen due to the results of your actions,” Rhys said, his voice full of authority and resignation. 

“What? But we’ve done nothing wrong!” Elain exclaimed. “I know we shouldn’t have gone behind Y/n’s back but we’re in love!”

“I don’t care,” Rhys snarled, baring his teeth. “I don’t care how much you two claim to be in love! Azriel has caused irreparable damage to his own mate—a member of my court, of my family. And you were complicit in that.” 

“Are we not your family too? Feyre is my sister!”

“And Y/n is mine,” Rhys retorted. “And Cassian’s.”

Elain crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. “So we’re being punished for falling in love? It’s not our fault the Cauldron decided to make someone else our mates. It was never our choice.” 

“You’re not being punished for falling in love, if that’s even what we can call this,” Feyre spat out, staring at her sister with disappointment. “You’re being punished for how you handled a sensitive situation. You’re being punished for lying to our whole family and for causing it to be torn apart.”

“You’re not being punished at all,” Rhys snapped. “If you were, both of you would be in a cell in Hewn City and I’d let Cassian decide what your punishment would be considering Y/n would never have the heart to hurt either of you. This is simply the consequence of your own stupid actions.” 

Azriel’s head shot up at the mention of your name. “How is Y/n? Is she doing okay?” 

Feyre went to answer but Rhys shook his head at her. 

“You don’t get the privilege of knowing anything about her at this point, Azriel,” he huffed. 

Azriel stood from his chair in anger. “She is my mate, Rhys.”

“Sit down,” Rhys commanded, his voice rising for the first time since the meeting started. “Funny how now you acknowledge her as a mate but not when you had your tongue down Elain’s throat.” 

“Fuck you, Rhys,” Azriel growled, but sat, unable to fight the power of a High Lord’s order. 

“No fuck you, Azriel! I thought you were my brother! How could you do this to Y/n? To our family? Both of you should be ashamed. You are already getting off easy, don’t make me rethink my choice. Lucien has every right to storm in right now and demand a blood duel against you. And even though it’s not a practice in my court, I’d even let Y/n declare one against Elain.”

Elain’s face paled but Azriel only scoffed in indignation. “As if Feyre would ever let anyone kill one of her sisters.” 

Feyre stepped forward, glaring at the shadowsinger and Elain. “I’m done protecting her. Nesta is done protecting her. We have spent our whole lives taking care of her thinking she was just too soft for this world—too naive and innocent. But I think we’re finally seeing the real you, Elain. And it is time for you to face the consequences of your own actions, make your own way in life.” 

“So what are you going to do? Are you going to force me to live in the House of Wind like you did Nesta?”

“No,” Feyre said, stone faced before looking at Rhys. They had decided together how they would handle this situation.

“You are both hereby banished from the Night Court,” Rhys declared. “I will not tolerate Y/n having to lose her own home after she just lost her wings and we are going to do what's best for her. Lucien has made it clear that you both will not be welcomed in Day either and Helion is standing by his son’s decision. Beyond that, we cannot help you. You will pack your things and leave immediately. If you step one foot in this court after you leave, I will be notified and you will face worse repercussions.” 

“What?” Elain exclaimed. “Feyre, you can’t be serious! Look, I’ll move out of the Riverhouse. We can live in Azriel’s apartment and avoid Y/n.”

“That apartment belongs to Y/n too, you know,” Feyre snapped. “We have already made our decision. We will not be negotiating any terms.” 

“Rhys, come on,” Azriel said. “I will leave but you don’t need to banish Elain too. She did nothing wrong.”

“Elain knew you were a mated male, knew you were together with Y/n. While I agree that what you have done is worse, she still knew what she was doing wasn’t right.” 

“Where are we supposed to go?” Elain cried. “I don’t have any money. I don’t have anywhere to go, Feyre. You can’t just toss me out like this.” 

“Azriel has money,” Feyre shrugged. “I guess you’re his problem now.” 

“You know none of the other High Lord’s will want me in their courts, Rhys,” Azriel snarled. “Not after the things I’ve done for you.” 

“Should of thought of that before you betrayed our whole family.” 

“I hear the old Manor is still abandoned in the human lands,” Feyre remarked. “Since Vassa had reclaimed her territory with Jurian at her side and Lucien had moved to Day to be with his father.” 

“We can’t survive there,” Elain sobbed. “Humans hate faeries.” 

“Not my problem, Elain,” Feyre said. “You’re not my problem anymore.” 

“Azriel, do something!” Elain cried, looking at the shadowsinger. 

“What do you expect him to do?” Rhys laughed humorlessly. “He no longer has his title, his place in my court. He has no sway here. You both don’t. You will not change our minds.” 

“Nesta won’t allow this!”

“Nesta,” Feyre said, “is packing up your things as we speak.” 

Elain fell back in her chair, crying. 

“I’d say I wish you two the best, but I don’t,” Rhys said. “You have two hours to sort out whatever you have to before I expect you both to be out of my court. Two hours. Do you understand?” 

“Please,” Elain begged. “Please don’t do this, Feyre.”

But Feyre only shook her head at her sister. “There’s no going back for either of you. Say your goodbyes, sort out your affairs, but you will leave in two hours.” 

Rhys took his leave after that, giving Azriel one last look that was full of disgust, guilt, regret, sadness. One last look at his brother before striding out of that room, never to see or speak to him again. 

────────────

Mor had just left when you heard the flapping of wings approaching your balcony. Thinking it was your brother, you pushed yourself to stand and hobbled over to the balcony doors using the walls of your room for support. You opened the door, expecting to see your brother, but your heart stopped when you came face to face with Azriel. 

Your eyes narrowed and you went to slam the door, but he grabbed it before you could. 

“Please, please just hear me out,” he pleaded. “I will leave, I promise, I just…I just—please.” 

“There is nothing you can say that will make me forgive you, Azriel.”

“I know, baby–”

“Don’t you dare call me that!”

Azriel looked down at his feet. “Okay, I’m sorry. I’m not here to try to earn your forgiveness, Y/n. I know I fucked up beyond repair. I know I failed you, failed us. Words will never be able to convey how much I regret everything.” 

You crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe as your legs threatened to give out. You were debating screaming out for Cassian. 

Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small stone that looked to be enchanted. He held it out towards you. 

“I can’t…I can’t hear the shadows anymore,” he murmured. “But I can’t just leave you without some way to contact me. In case you ever change your mind, in case there is ever a chance that we can be together again. You’ll be able to call for me with this.”

“That is never going to happen.”

“Please, just take it,” Azriel begged. “Even if you don’t want me, please. If you’re ever in danger again and need help, you can use it for that too. Just please, take it.” 

When you said nothing, didn’t so much as open your palm so he could place the stone in it, he knelt down and placed it at your feet instead. You stared at him, emotionless. You didn’t want to give him anything. He didn’t deserve your tears or your sadness. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’m so sorry for the way things ended,” Azriel said. “You deserve a better mate than me. If I never…If I never get to see you again after this, I promise I will find you in the next life and the one after that. I will do right by you. I will give us another chance.”

He stared at you, pleading with you to say anything. Anything. Even if you screamed at him, beat him, cried—anything was better than this utter silence. But you didn’t. You merely looked at him like he was nothing to you. Like he was a stranger. 

“Goodbye, Azriel,” you said. “I hope you find happiness in your life. Truly.”

And then you slammed the door shut and walked away. 

And he knew then that your words would haunt him for the rest of his life because he knew he had lost the one real thing that had brought him true happiness forever.

────────────

One Year Later ~ Winter Solstice 

“Get up, you lazy cow!”

The sheets were yanked off your sleeping body, exposing you to the cold morning air. You let out a shriek, cursing at your brother and trying to grab the sheets back.

“What the hell, Cassian!”

“It’s Winter Solstice!”

“It’s also six in the morning,” you retorted, falling back down on your bed. 

“Nope, you’re not going back to sleep,” Cassian said. “It’s time to get up!” 

Before you could even respond, Cassian grabbed you by the ankle and yanked you to the end of the bed. You squealed as he tossed you over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes, pounding on his back as he raced out of the room.

“Cassian! Let me down, you big brute!” 

But he only laughed at you, carrying you all the way to the kitchen where Nesta was sitting at the counter with a steaming cup of tea. She didn’t so much as blink as he dropped you into the chair next to her, already used to her mate’s antics. 

“Goodmorning, Y/n,” Nesta said, pushing an already prepared cup of tea your way.

“Oh, you are an absolute goddess,” you groaned, greedily accepting the mug. You curled your ice cold fingers around it, relishing in the warmth. 

“Hey! What about me?” Cassian yelled, swinging a wash cloth over his shoulder as he started to make breakfast for the two of you. “I’m the one making you guys food!”

“You’re also the one who woke us up, dingbat,” you scoffed, causing Nesta to snort.

It wasn’t long before Cassian was sliding a plate of pancakes your way. “Eat up. You have a long day ahead of you.”

You raised an eyebrow at him but accepted the food, scarfing it down. It was almost hilarious how out of the three of you it was Cassian who cooked the best. 

After breakfast, you retired to your room to get ready to go down to the River House for the real celebrations. Cassian had cryptically told you to wear pants, so you did. You had no idea why until hours later, when you were all lounging in the sitting room after lunch. 

A knock on the front door had you jumping up from your seat. “I’ll get it!” 

No one batted an eye as you raced for the door, pulling it open to see Lucien standing on the doorstep. You let out a noise of excitement, grabbing him in a hug.

“Lucien!” you exclaimed. “You’re here early!” 

A few weeks after the incident, Lucien had sent you a letter asking how you were faring and offering you support. He became a lifeline while you had dealt with the aftermath of saying goodbye to your mate and healing. You both leaned on each other during that time because you were simply the only two who understood the pain of having a mate who fell in love with another. 

“Happy Winter Solstice,” he said as you pulled away and opened the door wider so he could enter. “I’m actually here to retrieve you.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Is everything ready?” 

Your brother’s voice came from behind you and you whipped your head around to stare at him. He was wearing his flying leathers now only confusing you further. 

“Yes,” Lucien nodded. 

“What’s going on?” you asked, suspiciously. 

No one else followed Cassian out. Not even Nesta. You frowned as he shook Lucien’s hand, giving him a friendly whack on the back. 

“You’ll see,” your brother said with a grin. “Lucien is going to winnow us somewhere, kiddo, to your solstice gift.”

You looked between them with narrowed eyes but accepted Lucien’s outstretched hand. His grin was the last thing you saw before you were pulled away in a flurry of wind. A second later, you appeared in the middle of a clearing. 

The tall green grass, the slightly warm breeze, the lack of snow, told you that you were in the Spring Court. You whirled to face your brother who let out a sneeze as soon as he got his bearings. 

“What are we doing here?” 

“So, you know how when Feyre was brought back she was given a drop of power from every High Lord?” Cassian asked. 

You nodded, not understanding where this was going. Your hand slipped into your pocket, around a stone that was always kept there. The one Azriel had left you. You had never used it but for some reason, had never parted with it either. At some point, you had started holding it whenever you felt nervous or fell back into the heartache you had experienced last year. 

“Well, of course she inherited part of Tamlin’s shapeshifting powers. And we thought maybe she could shapeshift others the way he does, but after numerous tries, unfortunately it seems as though the sliver of power she received only allows her to transform herself.” 

“It was not fun being the guinea pig for those test runs,” Lucien laughed. “When Feyre was unable to do it, we had to turn to someone else.” 

“Okay, but what does that have to do with me? Or my solstice gift?” 

Before either of them could respond, a noise came from the shrubbery in the distance. Tamlin’s beast form pounced out from it, striding towards you. You gasped and backed away, right into your brother’s chest. He placed a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “He’s here as a favor to Lucien.”

“And Feyre and Rhys approved this?” you whispered up to him. 

He nodded his assurance.

You let out another gasp as Tamlin shifted back into his fae form. He looked well, better than the last time you had seen him at least. He seemed to have regained some weight and gotten a haircut. You knew he was still in the process of recovering his court. You wondered what sort of strings Lucien had to pull to get him to willingly let you and Cassian come here considering his history with your rulers.

He gave you and Cassian a polite, but bland, greeting which you reciprocated.

“Are any of you going to tell me what’s going on?” 

“Tam is going to help you shapeshift,” Lucien explained. “If you will allow him.”

“Shapeshift? But why would I–”

It clicked in your head, what they were implying, why they had brought you to this large clearing. You whipped around to look up at your brother who seemed to be holding back tears. He gave you a nod, already knowing what you were asking.

“W-wings,” you choked out. “He can give me wings.” 

“It won’t last forever,” Lucien said. “But yes, he can give you wings.”

Tears started slipping down your cheeks and you lurched towards Lucien, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. You…you were going to have wings. You were going to be able to fly!

You didn’t care that it wouldn’t last forever. Just the chance to fly once more was a gift in itself.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear. “Thank you.” 

Lucien laughed, hugging you back before you slowly pulled away from him. You looked over your shoulder at your brother. “This was your idea?”

Cassian shook his head. “As much as I wish I could claim this, it was actually Lucien who thought of this first. I’m just here to supervise–and to offer you a flying partner if you’ll have me.” 

You smiled up at Lucien, unbelievably touched at the thoughtfulness. Lucien wiped your tears from your face, gently, before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Are you ready?”

You nodded with enthusiasm.

Lucien gestured at Tamlin to come closer.

“Thank you for doing this,” you said to him with a small bow of the head. 

“I once watched a faerie die after losing his wings,” Tamlin murmured. “Its…Its a horrific crime. One my family has a history with. I’d like this to be my first step towards making amends for their mistakes.” 

You weren’t sure what to say, so you just gave him a grateful nod of the head. He focused intently on you and you felt his magic surround you. It felt nice, like a crisp Spring breeze. And then you felt a familiar weight on your back. You stumbled for a second, readjusting to how it used to feel having wings. But it surprisingly came back to you quite easily.  

You looked at them over your shoulder, stretching them out and flapping them a few times. They looked just like your brother’s and you realized Tamlin must’ve used him as a guide. You grinned, facing Cassian. 

“Race you towards the end of the clearing,” you shouted before taking off into the sky. 

Your brother’s laughter followed after you as he too launched into the sky. 

+++

Hours after night had fallen, you found yourself behind the River House, leaning on the railing to watch the slow moving river. Your wings had since dissipated, but you hadn’t felt this light in a long time. Being able to fly today had healed you in some way.

You had spent a lot of time thinking while you flew amongst the clouds. Thinking of who you used to be. Sometimes you missed that girl, sometimes you wished more than anything to be her again. 

But you hadn’t felt that today…

Today, you had felt like a new person. Like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. And perhaps in a way, you were. 

Life had never been predictable. Your whole life had been filled with tragedy and sorrow, challenges and hard work, happiness and joy, regret and insecurities. You had gone through so much, so much, but somehow, you were always able to come out on the other side.

It wasn’t easy. It involved many days of despair, awful thoughts, and soulless recovery. You had to fight to get up sometimes, had to fight just to feel something. Sometimes it seemed like you’d conquer one mountain only to be faced with another. 

If it wasn’t for your brother, you were certain you would’ve fallen back a dozen times. But he had been your pillar of strength, your rock to rest against when things got too hard. And Mor and Rhys had been there to help lift you back up. 

You had gained new friends, found a new life for yourself. Metamorphosed into a new person. 

That girl from a year ago? 

Well, you were finally going to let her die. 

You reached into your pocket and pulled out the stone Azriel had left you. You ran your thumb over its smooth surface. It didn’t hurt as much to look at it now, not like it had before. Before it had represented so many things.

The loss of love, the grief of losing your wings, the reminder that he had betrayed you. 

But now…now it just looked like a rock. 

You gripped it in your fist and tossed it into the Sidra, watching as it hit the water’s surface with a small thud before sinking down into the black water. Down and down, until it would find its way to the bottom. Perhaps then it would drift out into the sea. 

You heard the backdoor to the house open.

“Hey, Y/n, come on!” Mor shouted out to you. “We’re going to Ritas!” 

You took one last look at where the rock had disappeared in the water, letting out a long breath. 

“Goodbye,” you whispered into the cold air. “I’ll see you in our next lifetime. Maybe then you’ll deserve me.” 

With a new weight lifted off your shoulders, you turned and marched back to your new beginning. 

#acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel angst #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #angst with a happy ending

[star-centric]

Could you pretty please do some “how they would try to court you” (not in a ABO way, but in a Devildom dating culture way), headcanons / scenarios with Mammon, Beel, and Diavolo?

PAIRINGS: Mammon, Diavolo & Beel x reader (all separate)

NOTE: Let me say this- I love love LOVE requests like these!!! Any time I can write about stuff like this it makes me kick my feet and giggle. Also sorry this is so late- life is a hectic atm 🫠

CW: gender neutral reader, mentions of possessiveness, minor suggestive themes (mainly in Diavolo’s part)

How They Would Try to Court You (feat. Mammon, Beelzebub and Diavolo) (Headcanons)

MAMMON

Mammon’s a lot like his crow familiars- especially when it comes to courting. Combine that with his sin of greed and you’re in for a time!

He’s greedy, so it only makes sense that he wants all of the time. Whether it’s just laying around in your room or even just walking to class, he’s right by your side. People are starting to get used to see him literally everywhere you go. He might as well be perched on your shoulder like your own personal crow

You start to find little trinkets left for you- courtesy of Mammon. Those pairs of earrings you were eyeing at the boutique? You found them on your pillow when you got back from class. The cute pin you says reminds you of him? It's already in your locker. The items are usually something small, but still meaningful to you

Nests!! When you see a cozy bundle of blankets and pillows in both of your rooms, and how Mammon is very adamant (ie. very nervous of your approval) that you have to lay it, you feel like he have no choice but to get in it. It's so comfortable that when he sees you instantly relax he can't help but let his chest puff out in pride (and he may have let out a coo or two when he saw how peacefully you were sleeping)

Speaking of cooing- he’s humming around you too now. It's cute actually, and it makes him blush whenever you comment on it (he even does it without realizing it sometimes, which makes it even more adorable). You start to catch it when you praise him for something, but he starts doing it even more outside of it. He tries to play dumb about it, but he's really happy (and relieved) that you love how his voice sounds (it's what he was hoping for)

He starts to flash show his demon form to you more. It stemmed from your praise at his photo shoot, and ever since then he's been stretching his wings around you. Graze your fingers across them and Mammon would be putty in your hands

Mammon has always been selfish, especially when it comes to you. It’s obvious what he’s trying to do, but you’re still a bit surprised when he gets serious about it. The nights where he asks you not to leave, where he tightens his grip around you and buries his face into your neck, he means it

He wants to prove to you that he’s the only one you need, that you don’t need any other demon but him

BEELZEBUB

Beel’s courting style is simple, yet effective!

Despite it being a while since Beel felt this much of a pull towards someone like this, he really does try his best

He makes sure you’re well fed and never hungry- he knows how he can get on an empty stomach, plus he has to make sure you’re taken care of! It starts to become a very common sight to see Beel feeding some of his food to you, which leaves the others shocked, but he’s unfazed by it. They’ll even catch you bringing you food to share and not the other way around they’re used to

Beel is also like Mammon in a way- always by your side. Whether he’s just stuffing his face or observing something else, he’s right behind you like a second shadow. You didn’t realize how intimidating it was until you started to wonder why so many people started to steer clear of you- literally

(It wasn’t on purpose but Beel wasn’t complaining)

He also starts to work out around you more. You’ve always been amazed at his muscles, awed at how he lifts hundreds of pounds with ease. He’s never been one too full of pride, but the sensation bubbling inside of his chest made him want to show you more. His regular workouts, his fangol games, practice- he wanted you there for it all

Beel can’t explain it, but putting his strength on display for you feeds into a growing urge that’s hard to suppress. He wants to show you how strong he is, how easily he can protect you if something were to arise. The fanged grin on his face when he sees you cheering for him leaves him motivated to do even more

Sometimes he’ll slip into his demon form because of how excited he gets seeing you (which in turn makes his opponents/teammates nervous)

Soft bites- it happened by mistake the first time. Beel accidentally bit your finger while you were trying to feed him. He didn’t break any skin or hurt you, but when you bit him (playfully) in return something…changed inside of him after that. He wanted to do it more- leave your skin littered with marks done by him. And he wants to feel your own blunt teeth bite into him (even if you don’t leave a mark). It’s become a cute memory and another inside joke between you both

(Even if it makes him want to go feral everytime he sees your bite marks)

Beel also scents you! He has the strongest sense of smell in the house (and probably one of the strongest in the entire Devildom), so being able to leave his scent on you isn’t a problem. Lending you his clothes (which the sight of you with them does something to him too), wrapping you in his own blankets while burying his face into your neck- you don’t know why he’s been so cuddly lately but you’re not complaining (and neither is he)

Beel isn’t much of the possessive type, but he’s not willing to share you with any other demon outside of his family. Even then, his primal urge is somewhat satiated knowing that he’s left his mark(s) on you for others to see- and plans on leaving more to show that you’re his

DIAVOLO

The Future King of the Devildom has been lonely for some time now- so forgive him if he goes a bit…overboard in his methods

Remember how he was when you ate the pudding humans weren't allowed to eat? Imagine that type of behavior but with no restrictions

Expect to be adorned in the finest jewelry/outfits you could get in all of the Devildom. It gets to a point where you’re wearing literal millions- all he does is laugh at your shocked expression and waves off your worries. It’s not like he can’t afford it- plus he wants to see you in it all! (and show you how easy he can provide for you)

He’s a lot more bolder than he usually is during this time too (not that he wasn’t bold to begin with). He’s…just not holding back anymore

He’s more open with his touch, his hands finding his way to you a lot more common now. Whether it's out in public or behind closed doors, Diavolo can't seem to keep his hands to himself. The looks you get from people when you're out together make you a little embarrassed, but he holds his head up high anyway (which you're not surprised- he is the ruler still, not like they can say much anyway)

But Diavolo doesn't mind the looks- he wants them actually. He wants people to see you with him, to know that you're with him and that nothing is going to change that. That you're his and his alone. A part of him is tempted to keep you locked inside for his eyes only, but he knows that it wouldn't be right to do that to you

But he does invite you over to the castle more, which somewhat helps his urges. You’re waited on hand and foot by Diavolo, who doesn’t mind at all- he sent Barbatos away on “important tasks” (ie. give him alone time with you). It’s adorable how earnest he is in taking care of you, even if it’s something minimal as holding the door for you or feeding you himself

He’s in his demon form too, and thrives off of your attention- to see how you admire him makes his chest swell with pride. You’re in awe at his form (which makes sense since it’s a rare sight to see), and he loves it. He craves it. He encourages you to touch his wings and have your fingers graze his horns- just be careful not to tug on them too hard, unless you want to really get him riled up more than he is now

Diavolo is also like Beel in wanting to see his marks and scent left on your skin. He shows restraint, and it’s only ever done in spots he can see (mostly). There may be a dark splotch or two on your neck from when he got carried away (or when he wanted to show others that you already belong to someone)

Diavolo really hasn’t felt like this over anyone in years- Hell, probably in his entire life. He really has become enamored with you during your time in the Devildom that he can’t imagine loving someone else. You truly have made his life brighter with your presence

He understands that you can’t stay here forever, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t become mates regardless, right? Or rather, who’s going to stop him?

#queued.txts #messages.txts #writings.txts #obeyme.txts #obey me x gn!mc #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x reader #obey me x you #obey me x y/n #obey me mammon x y/n #obey me mammon x reader #obey me beel x reader #beelzebub x reader #beel x reader #beel x you #obey me beelzebub x reader #obey me diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo x you #diavolo x reader #diavolo x you #diavolo x y/n

[steddiealltheway]

Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.

He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.

But they must keep up appearances, right?

Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.

So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.

Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."

But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.

Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"

Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"

Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.

Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."

Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."

Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."

Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."

Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."

"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."

Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"

He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.

When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.

A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."

"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.

A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Eddie says.

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.

He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."

"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."

Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.

Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"

A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."

"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.

Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."

Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”

Steve nods. God, he was a good person.

Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."

Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."

"You're kind of hard to forget."

Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."

The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.

Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."

Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."

"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.

Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."

"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.

That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.

They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."

Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."

"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"

Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."

"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.

"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.

But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."

Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."

Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.

In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #leave it to Eddie to tell Steve the things he needs to hear #sometimes it just shakes me to the core when I realize how alike they are #like yes. they absolutely have their differences #but at the core they have similar experiences that they need to process #and really I think they need each other #because they’re both so willing to die for others and see the worth in everyone but themselves #but put them together and that worth goes back and forth #I just see them learning a lot from each other #and it’s a really beautiful thing #ANYWAYS #hi guys. thanks for sticking through that massive tag rant thing 💛

[riki-dazed]

Best friends can kiss, right? -- PART 2

go to part 1 · fluff, kissing · wc: 1205

Your eyes search Riki's for any hint of jest or sincerity, a knot forms within your stomach as you try to make sense of the sudden shift in atmosphere.

Did I hear that correctly?

He must be joking. Right?

The question continues to hang in the air as you stay cuddled into his side, mere inches away from his face. The warmth in which you felt radiate off his hoodie moments prior has now doubled in temperature.

You wait patiently for Riki to crack a smile, expecting him to mention that he's joking around, as his unserious self always does. But instead, your heart nearly leaps out of your chest as you watch his seated figure begin to lean closer into you, your eyes instinctively close shut as you brace yourself for whatever is about to unfold.

It's finally happening..

Your mouth emits a barely audible gasp as Riki's pillowy lips come into contact with your forehead, his hand finding its way to the back of your head, gently keeping you in place for him. His lips linger on you for what feels like an eternity, the warmth of his breath against your skin causes a sense of calmness to flush over your stiff body. Nerves in which had settled upon you moments prior were nowhere to be found anymore.

You open your eyes to find him pulling away from your face, and you can't help but almost feel a tinge of disappointment; a sense of longing for his lips to be moving against other places, and not just your forehead.

Your cheeks flush at the racing thoughts within your mind as one of your hands finds its way up his torso, clinging onto the fabric of his hoodie that covers his chest. Your touch leaves Riki slightly surprised, prompting him to conceal his emotions behind a composed facade.

You pout, your gaze set on his, "Nishimura Riki, is that all you've got..?"

Just tell me how we can make this work

Your best friend returns a small smile, the both of you listening to the quiet melody in the background fade into a comfortable silence. Riki's heart rate picks up with every passing second as you continue to search his eyes, he wonders if you can tell just how much your puppy-eyed gaze is taking an effect upon him.

"Y/n," He reluctantly begins, his voice even more hushed now that there's nothing playing through his speakers. His tall body shifts to find a comfier position on the small sofa, his hand simultaneously pulls you back into his side, "...I don't want to rush you."

You furrow your eyebrows at the sweet boy, giving him a look that screams playful annoyance. A shy smile creeps onto your lips also, your heart warming at how considerate he always is with you.

"I've waited for this since the day we first met, Riki,"

His gaze burns into yours as he tries to process the words he's just heard you say. A part of him knew this, though, he's always loved you too much to put your friendship at risk. In this moment, and with the help of your confession, Riki realizes that some people are just worth taking these sort of risks for.

His eyes shy away, "Me too,"

Riki's calm reply leaves you feeling each and every butterfly within your body flutter its wings, without restraint. Finding a sudden boost of confidence within yourself, you take the opportunity to shift your position. Both of your hands are now situated atop Riki's chest as your knees rest on either side of his hips, the pace of his breathing quickening beneath your touch is dangerously noticeable to you.

This is so unlike him

The realization that you're straddling him feels surreal to Riki, like a scenario he could have only ever dreamed of actually happening. He's looking up at you with an expression akin to a lost puppy, his arms resting on either side of him. He's uncertain of what to do with his hands.

"Then don't make me wait any longer," Your voice is laced with anticipation and longing, your gaze falling to his mouth in which hangs slightly open.

And just like that, the look in Riki's eyes changes entirely, like your words had just flipped a switch within him; you realize that you've just added fuel to a long running fire.

Riki doesn't dare to make you wait another second longer. He lifts his back off the sofa, closing the distance between your bodies. The boundaries set between your friendship begin to blur as Riki's lips finally start to move against yours fervently, causing you to melt against him into a tender reciprocation. You'd be lying if you were to say that you've never kissed him in your past daydreams, though, you never expected it to be this good in real life.

The silent world around you fades into insignificance as you tug at Riki's hoodie, his hands finally settling on the small of your back, pulling you even closer to him; as if he's afraid to let you go.

The kiss you share with him is needy, both of you hungry to taste one another for the first time. Sounds of want and desperation wash throughout the small studio, creating an intimate symphony in which completely envelopes the both of you. Your mind is completely blank, the only thing being present within it being the thought of how good Riki's lips feel against yours currently. The biting, the sucking.. You start to wonder where he learnt to kiss like this.

Your hands trail up Riki's chest, they rest on his shoulders as you gently push his back against the plush sofa. The both of you take a moment to catch your breaths when your lips detach from one another's, your chests rising and falling in synchrony. You struggle to make sense of what has just happened.

"Is that all you've got?" The almost panting boy mockingly teases, refering to your previous question from minutes ago.

A menacing smile washes over his face as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, his hands settling on your hips. You scoff in reply, leaning back into him to leave one final, wet kiss against his now slightly swollen, and pink lips.

He tastes so good.

"Mm, this is nice. I like this," Riki sighs contently as his long arms wrap around you, squishing your figure against his. A chuckle escapes you as you proceed to lay your head against his chest. "We should do this more often."

"So, is this where I ask what are we..?" You tease with a smile as you gaze up into his face.

Riki's eyes shut as he chuckles away, hugging you tighter in the process. The feeling of his chest moving against your body with his laughter causes your eyes to ever so slightly tear up, out of pure love, and adoration. His happiness radiates a different kind of warmth throughout your body.

This is where I belong.

Three AM soon turns into the early hours of the morning as you continue to sleep peacefully, your limbs intertwined, the both of you embracing one another closely on the cramped studio sofa.

#enhypen niki #enhypen imagines #riki-dazed #niki imagines #enha x reader #niki #riki #riki imagines #niki x reader #enha #enha imagines #enha niki #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enhypen fluff #enha fluff #niki fluff #riki fluff #niki scenarios #nishimura riki #riki x reader #enhypen riki

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 20: corruption with albedo from genshin impact

warnings: corruption, dacryphilia, sensitive albedo, fingering, blowjob, slight size kink, albedo hinted to have a small dick

notes: briefly thought of making it corruption with rubedo… hmmmmmm

it was no secret that the kriedeprinz disliked socializing. for whatever reasons or purposes it may be, he just refused to get into any deep relationships with people.

but it happened before with klee. when the little pyromaniac child had ended up becoming his little sister, he unknowingly created a deep bond sith someone. and it happened yet again with sucrose. when the shy, young alchemist became his student and he took her under his wing to guide her in the wast field of alchemy. it happened yet again with the traveler when he realized they were not of teyvat. when he relied on them to be the one to finish him if his corruption were to ever get out of hand.

speaking of corruption…

never would have albedo thought that he could be turned into a flustered mess so easily by just a stupid memory. you were simply supposed to be acting in being his significant other. fake dating, to keep the annoying people who kept asking to be his admirers away.

yet again, unknowingly, he formed a deep bond with you. sleeping together in the bed with klee in between you two, going on picnics together, holding hands in public, taking care of each other. it all became a habit and a routine before albedo even realized it.

and before he knew it, he was thinking of you constantly. what you wearing this morning, what colored lipgloss you had on when you kissed his cheek goodbye, what noises you made whenever you stretched.

the kreideprinz prided himself in being able to constantly keep his cool in whatever situation he may find himself in. and yet he found himself thinking of you in provocative ways lately. how would your bigger hand feel wrapped around his throat, gently applying pressure to the sides of his neck gently. how would your tongue feel, fucking his hole open. or even when taking his painfully erect cock into the warm caves of your mouth.

ah shit, he was hard again just from imagining it.

quickly walking into his office within the second floor of knights of favonius’ headquarters, albedo finds himself with flushed face and knees trembling with his hard cock straining against the confines of his shorts. unable to help himself, he unbuckles his shorts, slipping it off before his boxers followed. immediately his cock sprung out, slapping his stomach with a lewd sound. he was leaking pre all over himself just because he thought of you.

with shaky hand and stuttered breath, he swipes his thumb over the weeping tip, smearing the fluid over himself. closing his eyes and slipping lower on the couch in his office, albedo finds himself imagining you.

instead of his inexperienced chalk hand, it would be your human one. harsh, scarred and marred yet warm as it glides over his cock. teasing him as you whispered filth into his ear for not being the prince he makes himself to be. it doesn’t take long until he imagines you sucking on his cock.

pressing kisses on his shaft, trailing it down to his balls where you would suck slightly to provoke him. how you would take his small length into your mouth easily without warning, making his knees close shut around your head as he moans out loudly, throwing his head back.

archons, albedo was so inexperienced and it showed in the way how he easily came over his stomach by just the thought of you with your name falling from his lips like a mantra. trying to catch his breath, a sense of shame washes over him as he recalls how he thought of you. opening his eyes, the first thing he notices was you. standing by the door, leaning against the bookshelf with a grin as you watch him.

oh fuck, how long had you been there watching him?

while the alchemist was scrambling to cover himself or even try to explain himself, you walked over before kneeling down before him on the floor. all he could do was look away, hoping that you won’t tease him. but knowing that shit eating grin on your face, you would.

“open your legs for me, ‘bedo” your voice calls out, eyes staying on the closed shut legs of his. the soft squish of his thighs and the slight pudge on top of his thigh high socks got you feeling all aroused. he was definitely inexperienced. and the sudden thought of corrupting him got you smirking.

with hesitance and a lot of shyness, albedo opens his legs showing that his cock was hard and weeping yet again. what an adorable sight.

“have you been thinking of me while touching yourself, ‘bedo?” you hum, feigning innocence and your hand reaches up to rest on the soft plush of his thighs. just the simple act of resting your hands on his thighs got him whining. weakly, he nods. biting his lips, unable to use his words.

that was fine. you can handle his first time of being shy.

“can i touch you? or would you like me not—“

“please! please do!” his voice cuts you off short, all high pitched and soft, unlike his quiet and calculated cold tone. so unlike him to be crumbling so easily.

but with his consent given, you simply nod with a smile. leaning in close, you plant a kiss to his tip. tongue darting out to swipe at his pre. albedo’s thighs flinch in response, threatening to close around your head but your push his legs open. he was smaller than you expected but that was adorable. you could just suckle on him like he was a cute candy.

opening your jaw further, you take his tip inside. slowly sinking your mouth down on him until his entire length rests inside your hot mouth, dripping pre all over the back of your throat.

“haaANGH! h-hot… y-your mouth… feelsh sho hottt uhmg—♡︎!” albedo drools, blabbering pleasure drunken shit as his hips buck into your mouth.

head thrown back, loud moans of how hot your mouth feels, how his dick was melting inside your mouth, how you felt better than his own hand as he drools over himself — it was clear that the kreideprinz was long lost in the hazy pleasure that you were providing him. unknowing of your fingers swiping at the cum resting on his stomach until he feels your finger slip inside him.

“gannck! [na-name]! b-big! wait, you’re too big—!” instinctively, albedo’s thighs close shut around your head, hips stuttering as his cock spurts small droplets of his cum down your throat. just a single finger slip inside and he was cumming already.

good thing you locked the door. because now you have all the time to corrupt your sweet albedo.

#nobu.writes #sub genshin #sub genshin impact #sub!genshin #sub!genshin impact #sub albedo #sub!albedo #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #albedo x reader #albedo x reader smut #sub character #sub!character #dom gn reader #x dom reader #dom reader #dom!reader #nobu’s kinktober 2023

[agaypanic]

Could you write a fic where Regina and the reader hate each other and they always flirt really aggressively and one day they can’t take it anymore and hook up?

The Angel and the Devil (Regina George X Reader Smut)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You and Regina fight with aggressive flirting and hungry looks, always making tensions unbearably thick. When Regina invites you to her halloween party, the two of you finally decide to do something about this tension.

A/N: au where the halloween party is at regina’s instead of aaron’s. havent seen the musical movie yet but it looks like renee’s regina’s wearing an angel costume, so whichever regina you’re picturing (renee or rachel) is wearing an angel costume. feel like there’s not much hate in this hate fuck fic but oh well

C/W: mean!dom!regina a bit lol, fingering (reader receiving), pussy slapping (just like once), degrading, hate fucking ig, finger sucking, cum eating ig idk man

***

You had no idea why you were here right now. You could’ve been home or at another party. Hell, you could’ve gone trick or treating even though you were eighteen and didn’t have a little brother or sister to use as an excuse to go door to door for candy.

But instead, you were standing in Regina George’s massive living room, wondering why she invited you to her party, why you came, and how long it would take before you were drunk out of your mind.

You barely recognized anyone here; you and Regina didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. You were able to name a passing face every now and then, but that was about it.

“Well, well.” You could hear the smirk on Regina’s lips before you saw it, whipping around to see her standing behind you. “I’m surprised you actually came. Thought you’d be too busy doing… well, whatever it is losers do.”

“If you didn’t think I’d come, why bother inviting me?” You asked with a sneer. She shrugged, hands planted on her hips as she leaned in close to you.

“Just curious.” You stared at each other for a minute, and you gulped at the close proximity. “Nice costume,” Regina said before walking off, wings almost hitting you as she turned around. It was then that you realized that, in a way, you and Regina were matching this Halloween. While she was dressed as an angel with somewhat extravagant wings, you were decked in red and devil horns.

It was funny, considering that half the time, you thought of Regina as the devil.

***

A few hours later, and you couldn’t help but notice that Regina was always nearby. It made sense, considering this was her house and her party. But you couldn’t find an explanation for why every time you’d accidentally glance at her, you’d find that she was already looking at you.

Feeling small under Regina’s gaze, you felt the need to hide. Your best bet was finding a bathroom, but you didn’t know where one was. You weren’t about to ask Regina, but you also didn’t want to be caught cluelessly snooping around.

“Hey!” You almost had to shout over the music, getting the attention of some girl you knew from one of your classes. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”

“No, sorry.” She said with a lopsided frown and a shrug.

“I’ll take you.” You almost jumped in surprise at the sudden voice, looking over your shoulder to see the one person you were trying to get away from. Regina stared down at you, jerking her head toward the bathroom as she bit her lip. “Follow me.” She said, turning around without giving you a chance to decline.

You followed the blonde up the stairs, going down one of the many hallways in the house. As you walked, crowds of people turned into stragglers until you and Regina were the only ones there. 

She opened a door and stepped to the side, waiting for you to walk in. You did so nervously, becoming confused when you entered the room. It wasn’t a bathroom; it was a massive bedroom. If you had to guess, it was Regina’s.

“Bathroom’s on the left.” Regina’s voice was close, and you wouldn’t be surprised if she was standing directly behind you. She shut the door, making you shiver, and you quickly scurried off to the bathroom, not missing Regina’s small huff of laughter.

You locked the door behind you, marveling at the interior. Whoever designed this bathroom certainly had taste. The bathtub had jets, the shower had two different showerheads, and the mirror above the sink was lit from behind. And even though it was dark outside, you could see a skylight in the middle of the ceiling.

You surveyed yourself in the mirror, seeing that the heat in your cheeks from Regina’s close proximity was evident on your face. You splashed some cold water on your face, doing your best not to mess up your eye makeup or lipstick. Regina was probably still out there, not trusting you to be alone in her room.

After a few minutes of just standing in front of the sink, you took a deep breath and left the bathroom. It was no surprise to you to see Regina waiting for you.

“Thanks.” You muttered, ready to go back downstairs to the party.

But it seemed that Regina had other plans. She grabbed your elbow to pull you away from the bedroom door before pushing you against the wall.

“And where do you think you’re going?” She asked in a sultry voice, tilting her head to the side.

“Downstairs.” You responded meekly, unable to keep your eyes from trailing down her body. For a lot of girls, Halloween was a time of year to dress slutty without being judged for it. You and Regina were two of those girls, and you certainly weren’t judging.

Based on the hungry look in her eyes, lip pulled between her teeth, you were guessing that she wasn’t judging you either. 

There was a wordless exchange between the two of you. After all the staring and insults, you might as well let some steam out of the pot. You were alone; it would be your little secret.

One second, you and Regina were staring at each other with desire, and the next, you were pinned to the wall, making out with the blonde girl that you loathe so much.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were like putty in her hands. Regina’s hands wandered over every square inch of your body that she could reach. One decided to settle on your left tit, squeezing and pawing at you through your satin dress while the other gripped your hip to keep you in place. You moaned into her mouth, body squirming and begging for more.

“Needy, needy girl.” Regina’s tone was condescending, making you whine. You simultaneously hated and loved the effect that she was having on you.

As if reading your mind, Regina’s hand that lay on your boob trailed down your tummy and to the hem of your dress. She bunched the fabric up around your hips, a smirk growing on her lips that were messily smeared with lip gloss.

“Aw, it matches your dress.” She cooed, playing with the lace of your red panties. She looked up, reveling in the shy expression on your face. “I bet your bra’s red too.”

You didn’t bother to answer. Regina’s attention returned to what was between your quivering thighs. A finger landed on your clothed clit, rubbing in slow circles and making you shiver.

“More.” You whimpered. “Please, Regina.”

“Look at you.” She responded, hooking her finger on the seat of your panties to pull them to the side. “Being so polite for me. So wet, too.”

Her hand cupped your pussy, a finger teasing your entrance as she gaged your reaction. You sighed in content, screwing your eyes shut and throwing your head back. But your eyes snapped open, a sharp gasp escaping your lips when Regina slapped your aching cunt. The hand on your hip gripped your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Eyes on me.” She demanded, finger gently trailing back to your hole. “Gonna be a good girl for me?”

You nodded embarrassingly quickly, and she grinned. Satisfied with your answer, Regina decided to finally give you what you were craving and plunged a finger into you. Her strokes were slow, making you whine and buck your hips for more. She decided to be merciful, giving you another finger and pressing your G-spot with every thrust of her hand.

As Regina fingerfucked you, the heel of her palm rubbed your clit furiously. You were having a bit of a hard time keeping your eyes on the blonde, getting too wrapped up in the pleasure she was giving you. Worried your shaky legs might give out, you wrapped an arm around Regina’s shoulders, almost knocking your hand into her giant feathered wings. In response, Regina let go of your face and helped you lift one of your legs to hook around her hip, leaning you more against the wall to keep you upright.

The new angle made you shudder in pleasure, and you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. Regina knew, too, because she somehow picked up the already fast pace at which she was thrusting into you.

“Gonna come, sweetheart?” She laughed lightly. “About to come from me playing with your pussy like it’s my little toy? Fucking pathetic.”

“Uh-huh.” You let out a choked moan, hand gripping Regina’s shoulder to try to ground yourself.

“Let go, baby.” Regina cooed. “Come all over my fingers like the desperate little girl you are. You can do it.”

As if your body was waiting for Regina’s permission, the coil inside you snapped, and you came with a breathless moan, your body shaking as you latched onto her for support. She continued her assault on your cunt, fingers pistoning in and out of you and helping your ride out your climax.

When you came down from your high, Regina’s hand left your wet cunt, raising it to your mouth.

“Open.” She softly demanded, watching you eagerly wrap your lips around her fingers that were coated with your arousal. You groaned at the taste, cleaning off her digits with your tongue. 

Regina’s fingers left your mouth with a small ‘pop,’ and her thumb swiped against your lip to clean up some smudged lipstick. She fixed the seat of your panties, giving your sensitive cunt a pat before pulling your dress back down into place.

“For the devil, you’re such a good girl for me, L/n.” Regina teased, giving you another hungry look before stepping away.

You watched her open the door, waiting for you to leave first. You were convinced that your legs wouldn’t work, but you were able to stumble out, Regina close behind you.

At least now you know why she invited you.

***

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