#through out the entire duel

[loadinghellsing]

the way they look at eachother during the final duel...

#i contribute #scene #hellsing #hellsing ultimate #alucard #alexander anderson #andercard #--- #im not crying youre crying #the way they look at eachother #through out the entire duel #there is so much emotion conveyed #and it hurts so much #so many parallels #so much symbolism #it hurts

[anxiously-sidequesting]

#inspired when i saw an ad on youtube for wizard101 #where it said “come play for free and explore 16 different worlds!!!” and i was like okay thats a fucking lie #you cant even get all the way through the FIRST world #personally i think its stupid and inconvenient to have to pay to play the MAIN QUESTLINE #for the people who dont have time to grind the set amount of time you pay for membership or those who dont have money #you either pay for a year and are pressured to do as much as you can before time runs out #or you're stuck doing nothing. there's very little you can do without membership #like the main selling point of the game is so you can finish the story. thats what we download the game for in the first place #it gives you the impression that the priority here is your money and not the consumer's enjoyment and comfort #like there are plenty of games who make the entire game free and still are well off #we pay like 40-50 dollars on bundles and even more than that on crowns. that should be more than enough #there are other games where if you dont have membership it barely affects your gameplay experience overall #or games that have no membership function but still can make decent money #imo having to pay to just actually play the game doesnt make it free. like yeah you can do other stuff like fish and duel each other- #and thats it. you walk around the commons and talk ig #thats like the biggest reason i dropped the game its just wayy too expensive and inconvenient to play it #wizard101 #w101 #wiz101 #polls

[supernerddaniel]

I always do feel kinda smug whenever I’m up against (@)Ignisters and I actually manage to out Arrival, tbh

#yugioh #yu-gi-oh #master duel #@ignister #@ignisters #arrival #the arrival cyberse @ignister #@ignister arrival #darklord #darklords #darklord supremacy #video #video post #also find it funny that i sat through that entire combo #so they could get to the 6K arrival #but when I go through a similarly-long combo to out it #they scoop almost immediately #makes me wonder if they didn't think those backrow cards were enough to stay alive

[anti-the-glitch-bitch]

To be or not to be (a blackmailer)

Danny fit right in with his boyfriend's family. So, well in fact that they've started to fight over who gets to spend time with him. Poor Tim had to fight his family just to spend any time with Danny that wasn't interrupted.

Danny, on the other hand, thought the whole thing was hilarious.

Neither side knew of the other's extracurricular activities, so it made things very interesting, and sometimes things would get.... weird.

Like the time, Tim had brought over a fabulous homemade dinner made exclusively by Alfred for their monthly date night. Danny had actually cleaned up the disaster he called an apartment and put away all the random bits and pieces of scrap he used for his inventions. He'd even gotten the motivation to dust, which would have made Jazz very suspicious, considering he never dusted.

Date night was going very well until Damian showed up to challenge Danny to a duel for Tim's honor. Danny didn't blink an eye when the Demon brat crawled through his 3rd story window with a rapier demanding that Danny fight him then and there to show his dedication to Tim. Danny, having been trained by Lady Pandora herself on many a weapon, and having not had a good spar in some time, eagerly ran to get the rapier he had under his bed. Dani had laughed at him when she saw it, making fun of him for bringing it along when there was no way he would need it. Well, look who's laughing now, Dani!

After only breaking a few things and thoroughly destroying one of his couch cushions, Danny managed to get the upper hand and parry a particularly clever attack from Damian and immediately ripped the rapier out of the teen's hand. Damian then conceded that Danny was a competent opponent, and he had the boy's blessing to date his older yet completely incompetent brother. He also invited a bemused Danny over to the manor to see the litter of kittens he managed to talk his father into letting him foster.

After Danny told Damian he would let him know when he was free, the boy left the way he came, quickly disappearing even though Danny had been watching. Tim was not amused by the whole thing and was very much embarrassed and apologized even though Danny, who had a younger sibling of his own, thought the entire encounter was hilarious.

#dc x dp #dc x dp crossover #tim drake wayne x danny phantom #Danny has dealt with much weirder #Tim tries to keep Danny a secret in a family full of detectives due to shenanigans like this #Does anyone want more of this?

[sagaduwyrm]

DCxDP Idea - Tucker x Tim Soulmate AU:

Now on AO3

So the Justice League believes the Fentons and the GIW. Not completely, but enough. That’s the bad news. The worse news is that they have Danny, and are apparently planning to use him in some kind of spell to banish all the ghosts from the living plane. Which, okay, sure, not the worst idea, except that trying to banish a Liminal is a great way to kill them instead, and guess what everyone in Amity Park is? Not to mention what powering such a ritual could do to Danny.

Tucker is not having a panic attack. He might have one later, but right now he has a job to do.

So the thing about the Justice League is that they’re powerful and together they cover each other’s weaknesses, but individually they are, if not manageable, then at least survivable. They can’t take on the entire league, but Ghosts and their ilk have fangs for a reason, and every predator knows how to divide and conquer.

Technus and Skulker are using Lex Luthor’s tech to deal with the Supers. Jazz has got emotional manipulation and FrightKnight’s sword to take down the Flashes. Desiree agreed to start a mage’s duel with the Justice League Dark. Sam, Ember, Johnny, and Kitty hopefully have the watchtower in hand, with Walker playing backup to get Danny free.

Tucker has two jobs. One, work with Technus to take down the Justice League communications without making it look like anything is up. Two, for the love of the Ancients, do not let the Bats realize something is wrong.

And you know what? He’s got this. Duul Aman was the most feared sorcerer of his time. Tucker isn’t him, not really, but he’s no slouch in the magic department. Egyptian magic, the way Duul Aman knew it, was almost like code. Relearning it was as easy as breathing, but the real reason Tucker’s job is to deal with the bats is because he took it further than his last life ever could. Sure, he’s a dab hand at illusions, his curses are almost as nasty as Sam’s, and instant sandstorms are never not useful, but where he really thrives is with tech. Afterall, if ectoplasm can be combined with computers, why can’t magic?

Tucker is the world's first technomage and he’s goddamn proud of it.

It’s his saving grace now. Infiltrating Oracle’s system took weeks, and he still wasn’t able to look at or do anything important, but it was enough of an opening for his magic. He wormed his illusion through every single piece of bat-tech he could reach, whispering in their ear, Gotham needs you. The Justice League is fine. Gotham is where the problems are. 

Weeks of work and sleepless nights, and he still doubts he’ll be able to keep them from noticing anything for more than a few hours. Luckily, by that time Danny will be free and Tucker will be long gone from Gotham.

This confidence lasts until he brushes hands with another guy in the cafe. He can feel the bond snap into place, a soulmark crawling across his body. Tim Drake stares at him, eyes wide but sharp. 

Tim Drake.

Red Robin.

Shit.

Time to see whether fighting ghosts extends to fighting humans, because he is not letting this asshole mess up Danny’s rescue.

+++

The first thing Tim notices when he meets his soulmate is the rage in the man’s eyes.

They’re really pretty eyes. A bright, glowing gold, lined in kohl. Almost certainly a sign of magic. 

They look at him like the man wants to turn him inside out and burn the remains. Tim’s a little offended, beneath the shock and awe.

“Fuck,” the man hisses. Tim’s offense is starting to supersede his surprise. He’s a catch, thank you very much.

He says as much. The man laughs, and it’s almost friendly.  The cafe is empty. The people of Gotham have good instincts, and there’s something in the air around this man that puts Tim’s hackles up.

“You know, I think that’d be more believable if you hadn’t started this.”

Tim’s brow wrinkled. He felt like he’d remember starting something with his soulmate though? What was he supposed to have started, anyway? Saying ‘this’ wasn’t very specific. 

He rolled and dodged to avoid the sudden lash of golden sand. Ah. A fight. He could do that. Figure out why his soulmate was angry later, defeat him now.

He reached up to call for backup and only got static.

Shit.

He was on his own. Time to show this bastard why underestimating a bat was a bad idea.

#There's a part two to this now #Check the notes #Enemies to Lovers #potentially #Tim’s gotta put some work in #Tucker’s usually pretty chill but… #fandom #danny phantom #dpxdc #dp x dc #batman #fandom stuff #dc #tucker foley #tim drake #Tucker/Tim #technogeek

[fictionplumis]

Listen, I know Dream winning his duel with Lucifer with hope is like... A BIG DEAL and super symbolic and beautiful, HOWEVER I have something that may not be better, but would definitely be FUNNIER. 

Dream loses. He's been locked in a bubble and had his hopes dashed again and again, even though he's still fighting and still hopeful, it's harder for him to reach that and it doesn't come to mind in time for him to win against Lucifer. He's to stay as a servant in Hell and there's no Endless or divine being that can or will come to his aid. He's trapped. Again. 

Only Matthew isn't Jessamy, Matthew knows when the best way to help is a tactical retreat to gather reinforcements. So that's what he does, going immediately to Luciene like, "Hey, so, uh..." And there has to be some way they can help him! Luciene makes it clear that none of the dreaming denizens can. None of the Endless can, no deity would be of any help there against Lucifer. There are Old Laws dictating that Dream lost fair and square and no one can interfere with that. And Matthew's like, "Well what about someone who can challenge Lucifer to win him back? Someone not bound by the Old Laws?" 

"The only beings not bound by the Old Laws are humans. There's no human--" 

Except there is. There's one. One human that Dream would go off once a century to meet, and it's a long shot, but-- 

That's how Hob Gadling finds himself being approached by a talking raven asking him to trek into hell to rescue his boss. "You know, Dream of the Endless? Lord Morpheus?" 

Hob doesn't know who the hell the bird is talking about until Matthew describes him. "Oh, my Stranger!"

"...He seriously didn't even tell you his name?" 

Now, the idea of setting foot into Hell itself to do battle with Lucifer Morningstar is, y'know... Not something he wants to do. He confirms over and over if Matthew is SURE he doesn't have to die to achieve this, because he's not ready to leave yet, and Matthew is like, "Yeah, buddy, shouldn't be a problem." He's lying. He has no idea if it's a problem. (It's not.) 

Hob is like, "Yeah, but... I can't FIGHT Satan himself and expect to win, I AM still human." 

And Matthew's like, "You don't actually have to fight her, it's like a game! But uh... Pretty sure you still feel all the pain and stuff." And he explains the rules, and like, okay, feeling the painful death of whatever kills whatever you decide to be in your round SUCKS, but Hob's been through that before. It's actually a pretty intriguing game, one he thinks he might win. 

See, the way he sees it, it's a combination of the "times infinity" type of game (I love you, I love you more, I love you times two, I love you times a thousand, I love you times a million-- so on and so on) with that counting game where you either say one or two numbers, back and forth with someone, and whoever says 21 loses. Basically, there's one logical conclusion the game is going to reach. Someone is going to bust out the "times infinity" or in this case, "heat death of the universe" or some other completely life-ending thing. And like with the counting game, if you can get your opponent to say specific numbers on the way to 21, you can make sure they're forced to say it. 

There's a strategy if you think ahead enough, and he has an entire walk through Hell to plan it. 

(It SUCKS. He sees Robyn there. It breaks his heart. It's meant to, it's meant to keep him from reaching the palace, seeing his son in Hell, but they don't know Hob. They don't know the grief he's had to overcome in order for him to say, with absolute certainty, that he still wants to live even though it hurts. He reaches that citadel.)

Dream is, of course, horrified to see Hob there. Hob meanwhile is like a jilted exe all, "Yeah, yeah, we're not friends, you stood me up, but I'm still here for you because I'm the bigger person and I fucking care." 

He challenges Lucifer for Dream's helm and their safe passage out of Hell. Lucifer is... Intrigued. She just beat Dream of the Endless, and this human thinks he can beat her when humanity's collective unconsciousness couldn't? His immortality has made him cocky, clearly. So she accepts, and bargains that if Hob loses, he has to give up his immortality. 

There's a good minute where Hob pauses at that and has to really think about whether his arrogant, condescending not-friend is really worth that but yeah, yeah he is. Meanwhile Dream is off to the side. "Don't do this, Hob Gadling. It is not your responsibility to fix my missteps." Basically his version of pleading for Hob to leave and not risk this up until Lucifer is like enough out of you and shuts him up. 

They play. Lucifer starts out with the wolf again, because it's a good starting point to see what direction her opponent plans to take, to get a glimpse into Hob's mindset entering this game. Her plan is, of course, to cause pain enough that Hob will have a hard time thinking, but Hob makes that really fucking hard from the get-go and throws everyone in the room for a loop when his answer is...

"I am the over hunting of the local deer population. Ecosystem destabilizing, predator killing."

Well. Okay. Yeah, sure. Fucking fine. It's hard to kill that painfully. Lucifer manages to come up with, "I am hunting restrictions, nature preserving, ecosystem balancing." 

Hob, by that point, is like, I got this, actually. This might be fun. "I am the expansion of civilization. Forest destroying, hunting law nullifying." 

Matthew, who had been feeling pretty iffy about calling this guy in to help, is no longer questioning that choice. Dream is a little starry-eyed. 

Eventually Hob is the head of the Home Owner's Association. Lucifer is a bear, scrap hunting, person killing. Hob is family, revenge-seeking, bear euthanizing. Lucifer is Pride, argument starter, family destroying. Hob is friendship, blood covenant, thicker than womb water. Lucifer is jealousy, friendship rending, relationship ruining. Hob is personal growth, jealousy ending, apology giving. Lucifer is relapse, progress destroying, confidence killing. Hob is perseverance, step taking, progress rebuilding. On and on until finally Lucifer decides to end this the way she did with Dream and Hob leads her along until it reaches that natural conclusion, the death of all. 

Now there's some temptation there to go with the obvious, since he can't die even if the universe was destroyed. At least he doesn't think so. But he had already decided that it was an obvious choice to go for and he could think of a few clever ways Lucifer might get around that. So instead, Hob goes the far better choice and personal insult of being God, universe creator, life giver. He's very proud of himself when the demons erupt into boos and Lucifer looks about ready to rip his fucking throat out with her teeth. 

The way he sees it, there are two choices for her there, unless she really pulls something unexpected out of her ass. Option one is the whole "what's a god to an atheist" thing in which Hob would have then been a miracle, faith affirming, god-proving. Not much can destroy a miracle. 

But Lucifer, livid and prideful, goes with option two. "I am Lucifer Morningstar, God defying, His Kingdom ripped sunder!" 

And Hob has the absolute glee to grin and go, "I am Hob Gadling, clever, death defying, and triumphant over Lucifer Morningstar."

He and Dream are promptly kicked out of Hell on their asses, Dream's helm is thrown at his head with a force strong enough to break the sound barrier, and the gates are slammed shut behind them. The whole thing is so humiliating that Lucifer has to change their gender and moves to LA to open a nightclub.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #morpheus

[celiastjamesoscar]

To Be Alone

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: Being alone was something special to Wednesday, but being alone with you was sacred. And she refused to share you with anyone else, even if that meant owning up to her feelings

A/N: this is part 1 of a series. If you would like to be included in the Taglist for it, let me know!

Warnings: slight friends with benefits, jealous Wednesday, snarky Reader

Word Count: 2.7K

My Masterlist

The sound of obnoxiously loud music rang throughout the room as the students of Nevermore danced in sporadic movements, and none matched the rhythm of the music. Crowds were never a fan of Wednesday’s, but she would put up with the brightest colors and loudest thumping of music to get a glimpse of you.

It was out of character for Wednesday to want anything romantic in her life, let alone with someone like you.

To put it nicely, you were just like Wednesday, a snarky asshole whose mouth sometimes got you in trouble. But you were also more friendly than Wednesday could ever be; you cared for others deeply, while Wednesday barely superficially cared for them. But when your warm, soft lips met Wednesday’s cold, stiff ones in the darkness of the woods on the coldest of winter nights, Wednesday felt her heart reach a warmth it had never known.

Your relationship with the Addams girl was a weird one, and you never expected her to be someone who would enjoy a friends-with-benefits situation. But when Wednesday called you at an ungodly hour and asked, no, told you that you were going to be her romantic partner for dinner with her family, you didn’t refuse her.

Wednesday prepped you on the car ride to dinner and told you everything you would need to say; you and Wednesday met through fencing class and soon became friends after Wednesday bested you in a duel. That information was vital to the story, according to Wednesday. You two only started to date after a romantic walk through the local graveyard, and you shared a kiss on the tombstone of the late Marilyn Thornhill.

The dinner was a peaceful one, with all things considered. You won the approval of Gomez Addams, and you seemed even to impress Grandmama. Morticia adored you, but she saw right through her daughter’s scheme of forcing you into a fake relationship with her. Of course, she would never tell Wednesday that she knew her daughter was lying to her about her relationship. Still, Morticia enjoyed watching her daughter pretend to understand the beauty and pain that is love. And Morticia knew that after enough time, Wednesday would slowly start to realize she had feelings for you.

After that dinner, you kissed Wednesday’s lips for the first time, entirely by accident. You had leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but your sudden movement had startled the shorter girl, causing her to turn her head quickly, and when she did, her lips brushed yours. Instead of pulling back, Wednesday leaned deeper into the kiss and soon gripped your neck, trying to pull you impossibly closer as her lips connected with yours. She soon became addicted to them, and she refused to let anyone else taste them, and she soon started up an agreement with you; no feelings were involved, just late-night stolen kisses and moonlit strolls through the woods. But now, as she watched you talk with other women who weren’t her, she felt her chest tighten with anger.

“Wednesday, what are you doing?” Enid asked as she suddenly appeared beside the girl, startling Wednesday out of her thoughts. Enid had a suspicion of the goth girl’s interest in you, even though Wednesday refused to acknowledge it.

“Staring at Y/N with my autistic eyes,” Wednesday deadpanned, and the ravenette’s statement took aback Enid. “Um, okayyy,” Enid awkwardly replied as she gently placed her hands on Wednesday’s shoulders, slowly turning the girl, “I don’t know what to do with that information, but let’s go over here, where you can’t stare at Y/N.”

Truth be told, you weren’t doing anything to provoke jealousy in anyone, especially Wednesday. But the Addams loathed seeing you smile while talking to Yoko. Jealousy was a feeling she knew all too well, and it only happened with you. And for that, she would potentially murder you in your sleep tonight. It would be a clean murder, nearly no blood at all, but it put a frown on Wednesday’s lips; she wanted your murder to be a gory one, one that would bless her dreams of haunting images of you for the rest of her days, but the thought of drawing out your murder made Wednesday feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: sadness.

“No,” Wednesday stated as she shook off Enid’s grip and continued watching you talk to the vampire. It was a dull dance, and you were only here to socialize and to make Wednesday jealous, which was working.

“Why are you so keen on watching Y/N talk to Yoko? They are roommates, like you and I,” Enid cheerfully replied, hoping to help ease the tension in Wednesday’s shoulders, but it only seemed to worsen. “Enid, three-fourths of this institution thinks that you and I are together romantically,” was all Wednesday said, and Enid picked up the hint.

“Point taken. So then, why don’t you go over there and talk to her? Like a normal person would do instead of staring at her like a creep,” Enid suggested, but judging by the glare her roommate gave her in return, she assumed that Wednesday hated the suggestion. “Well, if you’re going to be a loser whose only way of flirting is staring at Y/N until she notices you, then I don’t think you will have any luck at pulling her. But I wish you the best,” Enid stated as she quickly looked at you before returning her attention to Wednesday. She gave the goth a small hug-which Wednesday did not return-before skipping off to go God knows where.

It was as if Enid’s presence was stopping you from feeling Wednesday’s uncomfortable glaring, and as soon as the werewolf was gone, your eyes automatically found Wednesday’s dark ones.

You politely excused yourself from Yoko before walking over to Wednesday with a smug smile on your lips. Wednesday hated that smile on you, not because it looked terrible; it was quite the opposite. That smirk did something to her; it stirred something profound inside her, and she hated the beast you awoke in her.

“My lady,” you husked in a raspy voice as you took Wednesday’s hand in your own and bowed while placing a gentle kiss on the back of it. “What were you two talking about?” Wednesday asked, wasting no time in finding out if she was going to murder Yoko as well.

“Relax, my dove. We were just talking about ‘The Haunting of Hill House,’ nothing to worry about,” you replied softly as you stood up straight and gently caressed the more petite girl’s hand.

Wednesday scoffed at the pet name and tried to pull her hand out of your grip, but it only caused her to draw you closer. “You miss me that much?” You asked with a smirk as you placed Wednesday’s hand on your chest, and instead of pulling away, the more petite girl slowly ran her hand up your chest and stopped as she took your necklace between her polished black fingers.

It was a gift from Wednesday, of all people, and you wore it with pride like it was your last name. You never took it off, and in a way, it acted like a collar; no matter how far you strayed from Wednesday, people would look at it and automatically know who you belonged to.

The necklace itself was a golden chain that ended with a small circle. The circle had gold-colored beads with small, black dots in the middle. And in the center of that circle was a golden ‘W’ with a line attached to it, holding the W in place.

“You still wear it,” Wednesday stated as she flipped the W between her fingers, gently caressing it with her thumb.

“‘If you ever take this off, I will rain hellfire down on you and your family until the end of the earth. I will haunt you in this life and the next; you will never be able to get rid of the image of me standing over your lifeless body if you were ever to remove this necklace.’ Those were your exact words,” you recalled with a smirk as you watched Wednesday play with the necklace. “But hey, at least you think of us together in the next life.”

“No,” she simply stated, and you were going to argue back, but she pulled you down to her level by the necklace, “If you ever tell anyone I have plans with you in the next life, I will skin you alive and feed your remains to Fester.”

The laugh you gave Wednesday in response angered her beyond belief, but the sound of it infested her stomach with spiders, and if she wasn’t careful, she might even admit to caring about you. “Jokes on you, Uncle Fester is my best friend. We are basically inseparable,” you remarked as you stood back up, and Wednesday let go of the necklace.

“I hate that you are his favorite person,” Wednesday mumbled under her breath and then cleared her throat as she remembered why she needed to talk to you, “I will be needing your assistance this weekend.”

“And why’s that?” You asked with a smirk. You knew it was parent’s weekend, and Wednesday needed to keep up the act of you two being together; you just wanted to hear her admit it. “My parents are coming this weekend; you must be there to prove to them that I am capable of feeling emotions other than intense anger and homicidal thoughts,” Wednesday deadpanned as the loud music slowly turned into a softer one, a waltzing song.

You didn’t recognize the beautiful melody, but you stuck out your hand toward the smaller girl. “Can I have this dance?” You asked with a soft smile, and if it were under any other circumstance, Wednesday would have said yes. “No,” she dryly replied while slapping your hand away, “And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I didn’t know it was a question,” you stated.

“It’s not; I just like allowing you to think that you have a say in what you get to do.”

“You are a woman after my own heart, Wednesday Addams,” you joked, and Wednesday scoffed at you. “In your wildest dreams,” the goth girl stated as she walked away from you, but you followed her.

“So what will this weekend trip entail? Do I need to start flushing my teeth and putting on chapstick?” You questioned while following the smaller girl out of the ballroom. “Why do you not already floss your teeth?” Wednesday asked with an eyebrow hitched, clearly displaying her irritation that you don’t floss regularly.

“Ummm, because it’s pointless? I brush my teeth twice daily. Isn’t that enough?” You retorted with a curious look. “One day, you are going to wake up in the middle of the night, and all of your teeth will have fallen out of your brainless head. When that happens, I shall make a necklace out of them and force you to wear it as a remembrance of our conversation about flossing,” Wednesday stated as she walked toward her room. She had a weird way of showing affection toward you.

When Wednesday reached her dorm, she opened the door and tried to close it on you, but you caught it in just enough time and stepped into her room. You shut the door as you followed the ravenette toward her desk. “Okay, but seriously Wednesday. What do you want me to do when Mr. and Mrs. Addams arrive?” You questioned with a serious expression, and when Wednesday looked up at you, she missed your usual playful demeanor.

“Be normal. You’ve been around them before; why do you still ask me how you should act around them?” Wednesday questioned as she loaded paper into her typewriter. “Um, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because I hate lying to people! And your mom is hot, so that also makes me nervous,” you responded with a little bit of defensiveness. But for an unknown reason, Wednesday felt her heart slowly break at mentioning your attraction to her mother.

“Do not remind me of your infuriating attraction to my mother,” Wednesday deadpanned as she began typing, “And we aren’t lying to them, so you don’t need to worry.”

A small scoff left your lips at her comment, but then a mischievous smile overtook your lips as you found a loophole. Carefully, you leaned an elbow on Wednesday’s desk and smirked at the ravenette, who seemed ignorant of the mistake she made.

“So, we aren’t lying to them, correct?” You asked in a calm voice as your eyes examined Wednesday’s face. “Why are you making me repeat myself? You are correct; we are not lying to them. Now, will you please leave me so I can work?” The Addams coldly remarked as she shook the feeling of spiders in her stomach at your proximity. No matter how many stolen kisses you two shared, you always made her nervous and gitty, which was a feeling she both loathed and cherished all the same.

“By that logic, we aren’t lying about our fake relationship? So that means we are actually, in fact, dating?” You asked with that same smirk, and Wednesday knew she had fucked up when she looked into your eyes and only saw hope that didn’t match your playful smirk. “We are not in a romantic relationship at all. We are just two acquaintances who engage in romantic activities from time to time. Now leave,” Wednesday stated as she grew increasingly annoyed with you.

You gave the smaller girl a pathetic sigh as you pushed yourself off the desk and slowly sauntered away from her desk, but before you could get too far, Wednesday grabbed your wrist. When you turned to face her, Wednesday reached up and tightly gripped your uniform tie as she brought your lips down to hers, and you both sighed into the kiss.

It had been too long since you both found comfort in each other’s lips, and Wednesday had started to crave their delicate touch and sweet taste. And, of course, by ‘too long,’ that meant nearly a day. The kiss itself was a chaste one that displayed all of the love and affection Wednesday had for you that she could never verbally say.

Only when oxygen became a problem did you pull away from those heavenly lips. With a small huff, the ravenette rested her forehead against yours as her free hand came up and slowly stroked your jaw.

“I want to rip out your mandible and add it to my bone collection,” was what Wednesday mumbled against your lips, but the words that traveled through your ears were, ‘You mean so much to me that I want to have a piece of you with me forever,’ and you were happy with that translation.

“You have such a way with words, you know that? You really know how to make a girl feel special,” you mumbled against her lips before placing a final kiss on them and turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Wednesday asked as she returned to reality when she didn’t feel your lips anymore and saw you walking toward the door to leave.

“You told me to leave, so that’s what I’m doing,” you replied before a slight smirk overtook your face, “Why, do you miss me already?”

“No. Just be ready by tomorrow morning so we can eat breakfast with them,” Wednesday stated as she continued her work, ignoring the feeling in her stomach at the thought of you leaving for the night. Most of the time, when her parents visited, you would stay the night in her dorm to further push the agenda that you two were a couple. Definitely not because Wednesday found it hard to sleep without you at night.

“Goodnight, Wednesday. I hope your dreams are just as evil as you are,” you joked as you opened the door, and Wednesday huffed in response as you left the room.

Unbeknownst to you, Wednesday hadn’t been working on her novel. She had been writing out all the things you make her feel, and when you had wished nightmares upon her, the final sentence that had made its one onto the page was the thing that shattered her heart the most: ‘Gods should fear the love I have for you.’

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @elduster @silentwolfsstuff @baddiebbarbietngz @maskthedwarf @aroaceanxietylemon

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday x reader #wednsday addams #wednesday addams x female reader #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #Spotify

[sadnymi]

Mattheo making a girl cum by praising her and its in class just little whispers and she dry humps him so desperately in a slytherin party he calls her bunny

「 ✦ Duel of Desires. ✦ 」

Mattheo riddle x reader

Summary (Request) : Furious at what Mattheo did in class, I set out for revenge. But my carefully crafted plan takes an unforeseen twist

Warning : Dry Humping , public sex ,fingering , dom/sub dynamics , praise kink

Words : 2.8k

A prickling sensation on my thigh interrupted my meticulous Charms notes. Glancing down, I found Matteo's hand, his fingers tracing idle patterns against the soft skin of my thigh .

A playful annoyance bubbled up inside me. Here we were, Professor Flitwick droning on about the Levitation Charm, and Matteo was turning my thigh into his own personal canvas.

"Mattheo," I hissed, swatting his hand away without breaking eye contact with the restricted professor.

He winked at me, a devilish glint in his eyes. "Just admiring your concentration, love. Makes you look positively fierce."

My cheeks flushed, not entirely from his suggestive comment. Professor Flitwick, with his booming voice and magnified eyes, felt like a hawk perpetually circling the classroom.

"Focus, Mattheo," I murmured, trying to reign in my scattered attention. Transfiguration had been a disaster this morning thanks to his constant teasing, and I wasn't about to let Charms suffer the same fate.

"But you're so much more fascinating than Levitation," he countered, his voice barely a whisper. He brushed his hand against my thigh again, this time lingering a beat longer.

Frustration bubbled over. "Mattheo! We have an exam coming up, and I need to actually learn something."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm against my ear. "Relax, love. You're a natural. Besides, who needs a wand when you have me?"

My irritation morphed into something a little more heated. This wasn't the first time Mattheo's playful teasing had crossed the line in class. The thrill of stolen moments was undeniable, but the risk of detention or worse, Professor McGonagall's withering stare, loomed large.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to play his game. Leaning in close, I lowered my voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "Alright, Romeo," I said, using a nickname reserved for those rare, stolen moments,"but if you distract me any further, your punishment will be far more… delightful than detention."

A surprised laugh escaped his lips. He met my gaze, his eyes darkened with desire. "Game on, then, witch."

As I attempted to focus on the lecture, a sudden touch on my knee jolted me. Glancing towards Matteo, I found him diligently transcribing the board's contents into his notebook, a mischievous grin playing at the corners of his lips. His left hand remained hidden under the table, adding to the clandestine nature of his actions.

I tried to discreetly shake my leg to deter his advances, but his hand deftly maneuvered to my thigh, securing a hold on my skirt. His touch sent a tingling sensation through me, disrupting my concentration.

Professor Flitwick's voice cut through the room, requesting me to read aloud from the textbook. Despite my racing heart, I began to read, acutely aware of Matteo's lingering touch inching closer to a more intimate area.

Despite the electrifying distraction, I forced myself to continue reading, attempting to ignore Matteo's provocative gestures. However, his subtle movements became more daring, culminating in a direct contact that made my breath hitch.

His whispered words added to the tension, leaving me flustered and unable to fully focus on the task at hand. The classroom seemed to fade into the background as Matteo's actions dominated my senses.

As Professor Flitwick instructed Matteo to continue reading, a mischievous smirk played on his lips while his hand, hidden under the table, ventured into forbidden territory. His index finger delicately teased my clit, sending a shiver down my spine as I tried to maintain composure and focus on his reading. The weight of Professor Flitwick's gaze lingered, making every movement feel amplified and dangerous.

"Thank you, Mattheo," Professor Flitwick's words acted as a temporary interruption, drawing attention away from our covert exchange.

His touch became more daring as his whole hand began to rub circles against my clit, causing me to clench my legs tightly together. “ don’t close your legs bunny “ A hushed command slipped from his lips when he ensured that Professor Flitwick wasn't observing our clandestine interaction.

"You're so beautiful when you struggle for me," he murmured, his words a tantalizing mixture of praise and provocation.

As his fingers sadly ceased their movement, I closed my eyes in an attempt to steady my racing heartbeat. Our pretense of innocence continued as we both feigned concentration, with him jotting notes in his notebook and me doing the same, all the while feeling the lingering heat from his touch between my thighs.

My quill trembled in my hand as his middle fingertip teased my entrance, a subtle reminder of the delicious tension that pulsed between us.

"You're doing such a good job," he whispered, the words dripping with desire and satisfaction.

As his finger continued its tantalizing dance on my clit, my senses heightened, and the room seemed to blur around us. I could feel the weight of his gaze on me , his right hand came to my notebook and reading what I wrote

His whisper in my ear sent shivers down my spine, his words laced with admiration. "So smart," he praised, his voice barely audible over the classroom's ambient sounds.

A soft moan escaped my lips as his finger teased my sensitive clit, drawing attention from those around us.

“Is there a problem Miss (Y/L/N)?”, Professor Flitwick's inquiring voice momentarily broke the spell

Mattheo sped up his pace and i gulped, shaking my head “Nothing just…I hit my leg.”

His thumb pressed against my clit, a silent command for me to focus, even as waves of pleasure washed over me.

"Silence, darling," he whispered, his touch igniting a fire within me, making me stand at the edge of my seat “it makes me smile when you drip like that before i even touched you “

The intense sensations brought tears to my eyes, but I fought to maintain composure, desperately searching for any distraction. ,and then I noticed his bulge deliberate flex of his thigh muscle all added to the dizzying mix of pleasure and tension I moved my hands but he catch them with his free hand .

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he warned firmly, his smirk evident in his voice.

Mattheo's skilled fingers pushed me to the brink repeatedly, each pause amplifying my desire. I felt like I was on the verge of losing control, his smirk and chuckle signaling his triumph.

"I admire your strength, bunny," he praised, pushing me closer to the edge. "Cum for me, pretty one," he commanded, igniting a blazing inferno within me with his mere touch. It was a paradox of ecstasy and frustration, and I cum so hard it was insane, leaving me questioning how such intense desire could be evoked with such minimal contact.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

I sat in my dimly lit room, wrapped in a cozy blanket, my favorite book lying forgotten on my lap. The decision weighed heavily on my mind—to go or not to go to the Slytherin party. Earlier that morning, Mattheo's teasing in class had left me flustered and frustrated, but now, as I replayed those moments in my head, a mischievous smile tugged at the corners of my lips.

The memory of his touch, his whispered words, and the forbidden thrill of our secret interactions still lingered, leaving me feeling a delicious ache between my thighs. I pretended to be mad at him for crossing boundaries during Professor Flitwick's lecture, but deep down, I knew I was equally to blame for letting the tension build to such intoxicating levels.

As I contemplated my next move, the allure of the party beckoned to me—a chance to indulge in the forbidden, to dance on the edge of danger. I could almost feel the pulsating music, the dim lights, and the whispered promises of excitement and pleasure.

"Two can play this game," I thought, my heartbeat quickening with anticipation. The thrill of the unknown, coupled with the lingering desire from our unfinished business, fueled my decision. With a determined grin, I tossed the blanket aside and rose from my bed.

I selected a tiny, short green top , hugging my curves in a way that exuded confidence. Paired with a sleek pair of black shorts, a bold statement . Adding a touch of glamour, I applied a vibrant red lipstick that accentuated my lips, and I let my hair cascade down in loose waves, framing my face.

To balance the daring look, I threw on a large black hoodie( that won’t stay on for too long) , leaving the zipper slightly open.The contrast between the snug, the revealing outfit

Tonight, I would embrace the tantalizing dance of temptation and desire, fully aware that every step taken towards the Slytherin party would lead me deeper into the seductive web we had woven together.

"Hey, y/n! Glad you made it," Enzo greeted me with a mix of surprise and warmth as I entered the party. He glanced at me, momentarily taken aback, before announcing my presence to everyone in the room.

"Y/n's here!" Enzo exclaimed, drawing attention to me. "Matt said you were sick and wouldn't be able to come."

I flashed a smile, inwardly amused by Matteo's excuse. "I feel so much better now," I replied, playing along and maintaining an innocent facade. Despite trying to act casual, I couldn't help but notice the gazes lingering on my chest, emphasizing the alluring effect of the green top I had chosen. I met Matteo's eyes, silently acknowledging the unspoken game between us.

He was clearly irritated by the attention I was drawing, but I couldn't help but feel victorious in my little game. With a determined smile, I made my way over to where he was seated, bypassing the available seats and settling directly onto his lap.

I leaned in, planting a kiss on his cheek and greeted him, "Hi, handsome." His eyes reflected a mix of frustration and anger as he tightly wrapped his arms around my waist, though I played innocently by running my fingers through his hair.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked with a harsh tone, clearly not pleased.

"Just here to see you," I replied, my gaze batting innocently at him. "Felt terrible staying angry after our little disagreement this morning." A sly smile played on my lips. "Didn't you miss me?"

Before he could reply, a voice cut through the charged atmosphere."Matteo, mate, another drink?" Jack, or perhaps that was his name, stood beside us, his gaze politely averted. A flicker of something unreadable crossed Matteo's face.

After Jack melted back into the crowd, Matteo's voice dropped to a low growl. "I see what you're doing."

I opened my mouth to respond, but he cut me off again. "And zip up that damn hoodie." His hand reached for the zipper, but I caught his wrist , realizing how close it was to my sensitive areas.

"No," I countered, my voice firm but playful. "It's stiflingly hot in here. Perhaps I'll just take it off ."I strategically brushed my hips against him, scanning the surrounding area for any watchful eyes. Thankfully, the party was in full swing, a blur of dancing bodies and overflowing drinks.

"Stay still," he said through gritted teeth, a hint of desperation lacing his voice.

Despite his demand for me to stop moving, I couldn't resist the temptation to tease him further. My actions were deliberate, a playful challenge to his control.

"Why? Does it bother you?" I asked, feigning innocence but knowing exactly the effect I was having on him. His grip on my waist tightened, a silent warning.

"You're playing with fire, sweetheart," he warned, his voice low and tinged with desire.

I leaned in closer, our faces mere inches apart. "Maybe I like the heat," I whispered, my lips brushing against his ear.

A startled gasp escaped my lips as his hand squeezing the plush of my ass , a possessive gesture that sent a tremor through me. The heat of his gaze seemed to sear through the carefully constructed facade of innocence, the tell-tale flush creeping up my neck a stark contrast to the coolness of the room. My breath hitched, a silent whimper escaping my lips as I unconsciously pressed closer, the frantic rhythm of our breaths mirroring the rising tension.

He could see the flustered look i had on because of the thought of being caught trying to dry-hump him. But he could see the reddened tips of my ears and hear my small whimpers along with your breaths heavying the more i pressed myself against him.

He leaned in, his lips trailing a path of fire down my neck before finding a more sensitive spot. A jolt of electricity shot through me, a strangled moan almost escaping my lips.

"Did you truly believe you held the reins, darling?" he murmured, a sardonic edge to his voice.

"Still dwelling on this morning, aren't you, my love?" His words came out in a murmured tone, a sly smirk forming at the corner of his lips. "I find this new side of you quite appealing—so eager and yearning for me that you couldn't resist acting on your desires."

He could discern the flustered expression I wore, a result of the daring move of trying to dry-hump him. Yet, he also noticed the reddened tips of my ears and heard the soft whimpers escaping me, blending with the deepening breaths as I pressed myself against him.

After a teasing kiss to my neck, his tone turned huskier as he remarked, "Did you honestly believe you were in control, bunny?"

"Still dwelling on this morning, aren't you, my love?" His words came out in a murmured tone, a sly smirk forming at the corner of his lips. "I find this new side of you quite appealing—so eager and yearning for me that you couldn't resist acting on your desires."

In response, I nodded, a small whimper escaping my lips, as I ground my throbbing need against his hardened bulge. "P-please, I need you," I pleaded, my desperation evident.

"You look exquisite when you're craving my cock to fill you up, love," he whispered, his voice filled with lust and desire.

"How badly do you want me to satisfy you, baby?" He inquired, his hand moving forward to gently stimulate my neglected bundle of nerves with the pad of his thumb.

"Badly, very badly," I replied quickly, my voice trembling with desperation, as I lifted my head to meet his gaze, my eyes silently imploring him to fulfill my intense yearning.

I took a deep breath, my voice quivering with need as I angled my hips to align my still-covered entrance with his cock.

"Please," I breathed, my plea hanging in the air as he teased me, moving my hips against his bulge with his hands firmly gripping my ass.

His teasing sent shivers down my spine, making my heart race. "Please, Matt, I need you. Please stop teasing me," I begged, leaning forward to press soft kisses along his jawline and down to his neck.

A guttural groan escaped him as I sucked on his skin, leaning his head back , giving me more space marking him as mine, marks he would wear with pride the next day. "Fuck, bunny, you don't know what you're doing to me," he grunted.

His hardened cock rubbed against my clothed pussy, sending a delightful tingling sensation through my entire body. "Feels so good," I moaned breathlessly, my hand entangled in his dark hair, while I moved on him with increasing fervor.

His hips bucked against mine, his cock rubbing me just right through our clothes. "I could cum like this. Do you feel good too?" I asked, pulling his hair slightly to lift his face as I demanded his lips to meet mine. Our kiss was messy, his tongue taking the lead effortlessly.

Despite us being almost fully dressed, he made me feel incredible, my pleasure building rapidly as I rode him and rubbed my clit on his cock eagerly.

Suddenly, he took control, moving me faster. My head fell back, and I trembled heavily in his hands. "Don't stop, please, Matt. I'm close," I whimpered, my hands balling into fists on his chest, crumpling the fabric of his shirt.

He encouraged me with soft kisses, his hips bucking harder against mine, causing me to feel him twitching. That was my breaking point.

I came hard, my moans and profanities filling the air. I barely noticed how tightly I had clenched my hands into his chest, quickly withdrawing when I realized I might have left a few marks. What would our friends say? Panic started to set in.

But he cut through my thoughts, burying his face in my neck, his lips grazing against my shoulder. "Don’t panic, bunny. No one was watching, and if that makes you feel any better, I would kill anyone who did."

I smiled, reassured by his words, and felt his hands roam around my back.

"Now, lets take this to your room. Enough with the games " he said, zipping up my hoodie before standing up.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

#slytherin boys #slytherin boys x reader #slytherin boys x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle masterlist #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo smut #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle smut #mattheo riddle #smut

[yanderestarangel]

More about tio miggy pls? Something about him catching his nephew masturbating for him`` his sweet innocent ftm nephew and he destroys his pussy

It really makes me throw my feet up and blush... I say... Hear me out

Tio Miguel would arrive so tired from working on his farm, sweaty, with a smell of drink and sweat on his body while his heavy steps would echo across the old wooden floor ─ but not enough to catch your attention, after all, you were too busy grabbing the pillow with his smell while fingering your own pussy feeling your clit throb with every thought of feeling your step uncle's fat cock filling you completely.

It was supposed to be just another fantasy session, but this time he caught you in the act.

Tio Miguel saw everything through the open door that you had left, your cunt got wet and dirty on the warm sheets beneath you while your breathing became shallow ─ the idea of ​​him inside you — it was taboo yet tempting beyond reason. His erection swelled painfully against his jeans, proof of his mounting arousal. You just felt his warm and rough hand pull you and wake you up from your trance of lust, making you blush but you didn't have much time to justify something, just feeling his two fingers enter abruptly into your wet hole and making you arch your back. Your moans ignited a firestorm within him, urging him towards madness. His fingers danced faster, matching the intensity of your cries.

Tio Miguel pulled you closer, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss ; his tongue dueled with yours, mirroring the action below. Saliva mixed with whiskey, creating an intoxicating blend. His free hand explored your curves hungrily, cupping your breast firmly yet gently. "¿Te gusta, mi vida?" He would growl as he fucked you with his digits watching your juices wet them entirely. "Do you want me, niño? Do you want me to fuck you?"

It wouldn't be long before you were filled with his fat dick─ the hair on his pelvis was hitting your hips as he buried your head into the soft mattress and made you look for more friction with his cock. Tio Miguel pounded his dick into your wetness so many times that you could feel your vision go dark and back again and again, buzzing and growling sounds coming from the brute foreman filled your mind. "You only know how to think about being filled, don't you mijo? You wanted that... So you better deal with my cock."

#yanderestarangel #afab reader #tw smut #miguel ohara #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara x male reader #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x ftm reader #ftm!reader #ftm reader #trans reader #miguel o'hara x male reader smut #miguel o'hara x male reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x ftm reader #miguel o'hara x you #cw smut #cw stepcest #ftm bottom #ftm smut #ftm #t4t nsft #atsv miguel

[florencemtrash]

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Chapter Seventeen

Azriel x Day Court Librarian Reader

Summary: Y/n's clairvoyance is a gift from the Mother, but it feels more like a curse. With the power to gain knowledge through touch alone, Y/n holes herself up in The Alcove and hopes her powers and parentage will remain a secret. But things will change after the Summer Solstice ball and a chance encounter with a certain Shadowsinger.

Warnings: None. Some angst. Some fluff. AHHHHHHHHHH just look at the gif guys

The Shadowsinger & The Inkbird: Masterlist

Masterlist of Masterlists

“Let me know if I’m hurting you.”

“I will.” 

The wet cloth soothed his burning skin as you carefully cleaned away the smattering of blood dashed over his high, bruised cheekbones like freckles. You were both holding your breaths, only daring to move when your lungs demanded it. Azriel sat on the chair you’d dragged into your bathroom, face level with yours as you leaned down to inspect his face with two fingers tucked beneath his chin. 

Azriel’s fingers twitched at his sides, aching to touch you somewhere. Anywhere. 

“You said you’d tell me if I hurt you.” 

“You’re not hurting me, Y/n.” 

Azriel could have told you that he was well versed with cleaning blood off his body and clothes. He could have reminded you back in the dining room that Feyre and Rhysand stood only ten feet away and could have whisked away his injuries and the bloodstains with a single touch or snap of their fingers. But instead he’d said nothing. He’d let you close your hand around his, fingers dangerously close to his thrumming pulse, and followed you to your bedroom while ignoring the throbbing pain of his cracked ribs. 

Feyre called your bedroom The Wisp after having decorated it with all manner of airy, cream-colored furniture accented with soft browns. Your desk was overrun with neat piles of papers, books, and journals. The windowsill by your bed was dedicated to pre-sleep novels and clusters of lavender tied with twine and left to stand upright in vases fashioned from ink bottles. The scent of old books and parchment paper clung to every surface along with something that smelled clean and entirely like you.

Your bathroom was similarly orderly. Bottles of perfumes, lotions, and oils were laid out on the countertop like little soldiers, catching and scattering the moonlight from the window in a rainbow of color. 

You brushed the cloth over his lips, eyes lingering on the two splits already scabbing over, then down the curve of his jaw to his chin. 

It was reverently quiet here in your bathroom. Nothing but the faint and steady drip from the faucet into the quartz basin and your breathing filling the space. 

Color had been spilled over Azriel’s face like a watercolor painting, equal parts painful and beautiful to look at. Because he was still so, so beautiful looking up at you with those whisky eyes that made your head spin. Those dark curls that hung over his forehead like seafoam waves. Your hands fluttered over the bottles on the countertop before settling on a pale green one that smelled strongly of mint. You smoothed the oil over Azriel’s face, leaving a cool, tingling sensation wherever you touched.

“I’m sorry about Lucien,” You whispered. “And Helion. I never wanted you to get hurt like this.” 

“Don’t apologize.” He smiled sadly. “Cassian was right when he said I had it coming.”

You winced. “How bad was it when you fought Lucien the last time? When you invoked the Blood Duel?”

Azriel didn’t shy away from the question, and his gaze never left yours as you quietly restoppered the bottle. “I was a second away from stabbing him through the heart when Elain stopped us. There are a fair number of scars we both left that fight with, but we did walk away,” He stiffened at the memory, “Barely.” 

“Do you… do you regret it?”

“Yes,” Azriel said quickly. Firmly. “I will regret what I did and what Elain and I did together until the day I die.” His hands flexed by his sides and he dared to lift them up to your hips, anchoring himself with the feeling of you beneath his fingertips. When you didn’t shy away from his touch, he continued on. “I wanted what my brothers had and in my desperation I think Elain and I chose each other because we just wanted to do something. I wanted a mate and proof that I belonged alongside Rhys and Cassian, and Elain wanted to break the rules for the first time in her life. To feel in control. But we never should have done it knowing everyone would get hurt.” 

“Sometimes love is like that,” you murmured, “Messy and hurtful… or so I’ve read.” 

“I didn’t love Elain. I don’t love Elain. At least not romantically.” Not the way that I love you. 

You tried to ignore the flutter of relief in your chest. It didn’t feel like the right time for it. Not with Azriel bruised and hurting before you. You dropped your eyes to the pale green tiles and caught sight of Azriel’s gloved hands. 

“You’re wearing them again.”

Wordlessly you picked up one and gently began tugging the leather off his fingers. One by one. The whole time you kept your eyes on him, tracing the tension in his shoulders and between his eyes as his ruined skin was exposed inch by inch. The air felt foreign on the skin of his palms. The feel of your body so close to his felt exhilarating. 

“I’m so sorry,” Azriel whispered, “I never meant to hurt you in all the ways that I did. What I did—” 

“I know, Azriel.” 

His eyes traced every line of your face, hands shaking. “You’re not a fourth choice. You’re not broken... But I think I might be,” he confessed. The words hung in the air between you two. Words you could wrap around his neck and hang him with. 

He felt every stroke of your fingers over his knuckles. Every flutter of your eyelashes as you looked at him with the faintest tilt of your head. 

“So what?” You breathed out. 

Azriel shook. “Y/n?”

“So what if you’re broken? Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t,” You leaned your forehead against his, noses brushing, “But you’re still Azriel.” You smiled gently at him, eyes fluttering closed as you sighed. “And I think that’s a wonderful thing.” 

Azriel stopped breathing as you brought his hands up to your lips and brushed them over every scarred knuckle. Every touch of yours was sacred. In their sincerity. In their rarity. In their preciousness to him. 

“Do you… do you like me, Azriel?” Your words were nervous and soft. Softer than the finest bed Azriel had ever laid his head down on. Softer than the clouds that turned to rain when he flew through them. Softer than your ink-stained fingertips landing on the sprinting pulse of his neck. 

“Yes,” Azriel murmured, “You can’t even begin to know, Y/n.” 

And then your softness was all around him. It was your lips against his lips, pillowy and tasting faintly of the sweet wine you’d drank at dinner. It was your hands and arms looping around his neck and keeping his head squarely on his shoulders so he could experience this vibrance. It was the feel of your body as he held onto your hips and then flattened his hands against the small of your back, pressing you as close as he dared. River-soaked robes long since forgotten. 

You were like water threatening to slip through his fingertips. 

You hoped you were doing this right. Reading about kissing was very different from the actual thing. Your lips felt too stiff or too fervent. You worried your hands were too greedy as you plunged them into his raven-wing hair and tangled silken strands. But while you lacked experience, Azriel surely seemed to be making up the difference. He held you as close as possible, until it felt more like breathing than kissing. 

Salty tears landed in between your lips until you could both taste their sharp tang on your tongues. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he kept saying over and over in between shaky gulps of air. “Y/n, please believe me. I—” 

You kissed him harder just to make him stop, swallowing his pain as best you could until his breathing evened out. 

“I’ve got you, Az.” You brushed his black waves away from his forehead before kissing him there too. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Tell her. Tell her. Tell her. 

Azriel’s shadows chanted in his ears. But he made them go silent. 

Another day. 

Let him just hold you like this for now. For as long as you would let him. Here in the stillness with you — the only person who’d ever brought him a real sense of peace and quiet — he felt it was safe to hope again.

The long stream of kisses ended too early for his liking, although he didn’t dislike the sight of your heaving chest and blushing cheeks. He couldn’t quite believe what had just happened, and you seemed to be thinking the same thing as you stood between the walls of his legs, his arms wrapped loosely at your sides and yours dangling off his shoulders. 

You’d kissed him. You’d kissed him. 

You touched your fingertips to your lips, worry in your eyes. “Was it bad? Did I do a bad job? I’ve never—” 

Azriel would have none of that. He tightened his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest and kissing you all over again. You relished in his heat and the faint tickles of shadows that encased you both in darkness, like a veil had been thrown over the room leaving everything gauzy and soft. 

“You, my Y/n,” his lips brushed over the corner of your mouth, trailing down to your neck when he sighed so, so softly, “Are a marvelous kisser.” 

Had you melted into a sack of bones on the floor? It certainly felt like you had. You were blushing uncontrollably, searching for something, anything, to comment on. You thought your heart might just burst out of your chest. 

“You have frosting in your hair.” You plucked the white blobs off his head, feeling the sugar grains crumble between your fingers. 

“I think that was meant to be dessert.”

“I think you might be right.” You tried controlling your breathing when Azriel leaned forward and kissed the bare skin of your shoulder, and failed miserably. “It’s a real shame,” you stammered, “I was looking forward to cake.”

He kissed the center of your chest next and your heart skipped a beat. “I’ll buy you all the cake in the world to make it up to you.” 

“That’s a hefty promise, and a waste of cake.” 

“Do you doubt me?” Azriel asked honestly. You could ask him for moonlight in a bottle, or a dress spun from spider silk, or all the stars in the sky and he’d find a way to make it happen. Some way. Somehow. He’d give you everything that was his to give, and then some. 

“No. I don’t doubt you.”

“Good.”

He couldn’t help himself. He kissed you again, reveling in the faint sighs that he swallowed up and the few that escaped between your locked lips to sing in his ears. You traded kisses for hours on end, slipping them in between conversations and gentle touches. It was an exploration in intimacy that you worried might sweep you away, but Azriel was as he always was — patient and gentle — from the tips of his black hair to his scarred hands to his leather boots. And you loved every inch of him. 

You clung to his shirt, the scent of soap still clinging to his skin after he’d returned from his bath and laid down in bed beside you in cotton instead of leather. 

“Azriel,” You said, your voice thin and tired. The candles burned low casting shadows that flickered and twisted on the wall. But you didn’t pay any mind to shadows any longer, not when you knew they belonged to Azriel as surely as you did. “Stay.”

And who was he to deny you? He held you close, your cheek pressed against his chest. You fell asleep to the sound of his heart, and he fell asleep to the rhythm of your breathing. 

You woke up to the weight of Azriel draped over your body, face pressed against your breasts, arms wrapped around your waist, and the rest of him nestled in between your legs. He grounded you, wings splayed out and bathing in the sunlight that streamed through the windows. 

You were pleasantly surprised that he was still asleep and you took the time to lightly trace his features, weaving your fingers through his hair until he made a sound that had your heart speeding up. Something halfway between a sigh and a groan. 

He was slow and sluggish to wake, eyes blinking languidly as he registered the warm, supple body beneath him. 

You. 

He’d fallen asleep here with you, wrapped up in your scent until the world had faded away into blissful nothingness. He could have been asleep for eight hours or eight years and he would be none the wiser. All he knew is that you were running your fingers through his hair, and he didn’t want you to stop. 

“Hey, you,” You murmured when his whisky eyes fluttered open, eyelashes casting spidery darkness over his cheekbones where his own shadows curled as if still asleep. 

Azriel hummed, burying his face in your chest and sighing with his whole body. His arms rubbed up and down your sides leaving molten heat in their wake. “Please don’t tell me it's morning.” 

“I’m not above lying, Azriel. It’s the middle of the night.” 

His wings shook with quiet laughter, the movement of his body tickling your skin until you were grinning unabashedly. 

“Then why are you awake?” Again, his words were muffled by your skin. 

“Because I’m currently being crushed beneath the weight of an Illyrian warrior.” 

His head shot up in alarm. He was no small male and although he’d spent centuries gaining enough strength for his wings to feel weightless on his back, he knew they were anything but. And you’d let him stay like that all night. It was a miracle you hadn’t suffocated.

Stupid. Stupid. 

“I’m sorry. Gods, I didn’t mean—” He began to slide off of you. But you were laughing. 

“Wait! No! I was joking. I was joking. Come back!” You wrapped your legs around his back, the sudden movement pulling him flush against you in a rush of heat that made him go stone still. 

Mother, help me. He thought to himself, feeling blood travel both up and down his body. 

You guided his head to your chest by the strands of his hair until he was following the curves of your silhouette once again. “I like it when you hold me like this, Azriel,” you confessed. “I don’t feel like I’m going to float away anymore. Does that make any sense?”

“It makes perfect sense,” he whispered. He felt the same way. “You make the world go quiet, Y/n.”

It wasn’t until the clock struck twelve bells and the House’s cooking wafted through the hallways that you and Azriel finally peeled yourselves off one another, shuffling to the bathroom in a cluster of wings and loose night clothes. 

Azriel watched you closely, finding new ways to love you even as you brushed your teeth side by side, bumping hips and smiling at one another shyly. He watched as you brushed your hair and washed your face, stealing kisses that left minty cool tingles on his skin. 

Lucien was noticeably frowning when you and Azriel walked into the dining room, Azriel’s scent still clinging to your skin and yours to his. You’d done nothing more than sleep in the same bed, everyone was looking at you with shit-eating grins like you’d taken Azriel on the living room couch for the whole House to hear. 

“You look well rested, brother,” Cassian noted over the lip of his coffee cup. 

It was the best night of sleep Azriel had gotten in centuries, perhaps in his entire life. 

You wordlessly traded seats with Elain at the table, leaving you and Azriel on one side and Lucien and Elain directly across. When no one was looking, he reached down and pulled your chair closer, pressing his knee against yours beneath the table. Lucien noticed — of course he did — but the blush on your cheeks was so innocent and the love in your gaze so honest that he couldn’t bring himself to make any comment. Although, he did throw a few dangerous looks Azriel’s way, looks that plainly said, If you hurt her, you’re a dead man. 

Azriel only nodded faintly in reply, as if he knew what Lucien had been thinking all along and was in agreement. 

But in the following weeks your brother would come to be grateful that your care for one another was not loud. It wasn’t desperate, groping hands in hallways or sultry looks that heated up crowded rooms and made people uncomfortable. It was reserved smiles and knowing glances when you independently formed the same thought at the same time, eyes latching onto one another until one of you inevitable broke away laughing.

For the first time in his life, Azriel had someone who wanted him back just as fervently, even if it was difficult to believe. 

Azriel always needed to be touching you, whether it be a hand at the small of your back or the press of your shoulders together as you leaned over one of the desks at Cagniv — now that Azriel was allowed inside — with papers strewn about like dove feathers. 

You were no better. You stuck close to his side where shadows lingered and sought him out in every room until you may as well have owned the space within the curve of his wings. 

But things were changing. Koschei loomed taller and taller over the House like an avalanche ready to wipe Velaris off the map. Once again, everyone heard Vassa’s cries at daybreak and nightfall, and when Jurian slipped out of the attic for his own rest, he looked a little thinner and paler each time and no amount of medicine or food you and Lucien brought upstairs seemed to be helping. 

Azriel tried to steal every extra second with you in the mornings. If he had his way, he’d never leave his bedroom again, content to admire the splash of sunlight over your body and your sleepy sighs. But he was still the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court and you quickly got accustomed to waking up to an empty bed with only a note on the nightstand. On those days you migrated out of whatever room you’d spent the night in — yours or Azriel’s, although the lines were blurred — often trekking to Cagniv to escape a house where strange, new faces were coming and going with more frequency: ash-pale fae from Winter, a white-haired female from Summer with skin so dark it was almost black, and golden males from Dawn with downy hawk wings. They locked themselves in Rhysand and Feyre’s office where bargains and plans were made in blood and salt. 

Other days you carted your books to Feyre’s studio with Nesta and Ione in tow, perching on a stool while the High Lady crafted life out of brushstrokes like she was the Mother herself. 

Feyre stood at her easel, as she had been every day this last week, with her pencil clenched between her teeth as she ignored the faint aches in her lower back and her wrist. Every line, every detail, was attended to with painstaking precision as she mapped Nesta and the old woman’s faces onto the blank canvas first with graphite, then with a thin wash, then with layers of paint that added dimension and familiarity to the two stoic faces. Feyre didn’t let her passion overtake the more clinical approach she was taking with this piece. This was not the time for free flowing movement and modernism. 

This was all about realism. 

Exactness. 

When the High Lady placed her brush on the muddied water cup beside her, you jumped up. “Is it finished, Feyre?” 

“As finished as it will ever be,” Feyre responded gravely as you took in the sight before you. Three women: Nesta, Ione, and some mixture of the two. Feyre had captured their likeness with incredible precision, using the painting to familiarize herself with their faces and the ways they could be warped and molded.  

You peered over the corner of the canvas to where the two women were standing side by side. Ione lengthened her spine, cane clasped in her hands that you’d never seen her lean on with her full weight. Time had condensed her bones and stolen some of the height from her frame, but none of her sharpness. It was a trait that granted her a strange degree of likeness to Nesta, as if you’d glanced into a future where she’d never turned fae. 

You looked at Feyre, then down to the vials of blood you’d collected from the pair. Already your magic was seeping into the burgundy bottles, testing its boundaries with such an unfamiliar medium as you released any hold you had on it. You looked at the High Lady and nodded. 

It just might work. 

“My brilliant daughter,” Helion praised, kissing you on the top of your head before disappearing in a flash of light. His empty teacup spun on the saucer. 

You felt a familiar flicker of pride grow within you. Helion had spent hours pouring over your notes, your manuscript, and leaning his ear towards your plans. He was in agreement. 

It just might work. 

Lucien slunk out of his room after Helion’s voice disappeared and sank into the abandoned couch with his whetstone and white-bone blade. The ring of metal echoed through the room, melting into the birdsongs that slipped in through the cracked open window and the clatter of sugar spoons against a porcelain plate.  

“You should tell him,” you said again, pushing a teacup over to your brother. It was a common refrain after Helion’s visits. 

Lucien stared at the three cups now strewn across the coffee table. Two empty. One full and untouched. Had Helion noticed the extra one? 

“I’ve had enough of High Lords for a while,” Lucien said as you poured yourself another strong cup, “When this is over, I’m taking Elain, Jurian, and Vassa back to the Human Lands.” His eyes flickered over to you briefly, “You should come live with us. You’d find it interesting how they conduct themselves. You might even learn something.” 

“I’ll visit for a short time, but nothing longer than that.”

“Why not?” You lowered your gaze and blushed, unconsciously tugging your sweater higher up your neck. The sweet marks Azriel’s lips had left on your skin were long gone, but you swore you could still feel them. “You know why.” You murmured softly. 

Your swollen eyes spoke of restless nights without the Shadowsinger’s hands to lull you to sleep. Azriel had gotten into the habit of stroking your cheek while you talked in bed, until the steady brush of skin against skin finally had your eyes closing shut. You missed him. 

“Lucien, I understand that you want nothing to do with Helion or any other High Lord, but… You could be better. I know you could be. You could be the best High Lord of them all, if you’d only be open to it.”

Because that was Lucien’s worst fear, wasn’t it? That a time would come when Helion would leave this world and any hope for a quiet, peaceful existence with Elain would be gone.

“And what if you’re wrong?”

You touched his wrist and the blade stopped its strange singing. “‘It’s often those who think they deserve it least, that deserve it most.’ Pippin Clodshot from—”

“A Duel of Two Faces by Aechtion.”

You reared back in surprise and Lucien grinned, tapping your nose. “I do read, sister.” 

The sarcasm in his voice was laid on so thickly you could only grumble in response. “I wasn’t aware you had two brain cells to rub together, brother.” 

Lucien laughed so heartily and for so long that Elain and Ione stuck their heads out from the kitchen in conern. 

“I thought someone was dying.” Ione rolled her eyes before her grey head disappeared once again. 

You slid further under the covers, burying your face in Azriel’s pillows as the sun finally slipped behind the mountains and shadows raced each other to the Sidra. 

Seven days. 

Seven days of waking up to empty sheets after Azriel had jerked awake halfway through the night, bloodshot eyes searching for something you couldn’t see and that he didn’t tell you about. He’d only kissed your forehead, smoothing back your hair and murmuring something about a task he needed to take care of before shrugging on his leathers. You’d sat in bed, comforter tucked under your arms and over your chest even though you were fully clothed, and watched Azriel move around the room with a practiced air as weapons flashed in the moonlight and disappeared into his bag. 

You knew all the hiding places in his room now — one of the many secrets you’d unearthed — so you didn’t find it at all strange when he captured your lips before dipping his hand beneath the mattress and pulling out a long serrated blade, perfect for sawing rope and wood. 

“Where are you off to this time?” 

Azriel had gone still, taking his time to shake away his thoughts before sweeping a handful of stoppered vials off his desk — sleep potions, draughts for pain and healing, subtle, painless poisons. You would know because you had helped make them. 

“I’ll be back before you know it, Y/n,” He’d whispered, eyes boring into yours with a haunted look that hadn’t left him since that day in the market square. 

Ten days.

Ten days of carrying around a heavy ache that every so often tightened with a feeling you couldn’t name. Almost as if it didn’t belong to you.

You paced back and forth in Azriel’s room, trying to calm a heart that hadn’t stopped racing for the last hour. You’d tried opening, then closing the windows as you curled up beneath the covers of his bed, mountain air blowing the curtains open and chilling your too hot skin. But none of it helped. 

Chasing his scent in the sheets wasn’t enough anymore. 

You tiptoed out of Azriel’s room, copying his silent steps and sticking to familiar shadows as you slipped through the House. Like Lucien, you tended to stay hidden whenever representatives from other Courts visited the River House. They were people Rhysand and Feyre trusted, but that didn’t mean you could erase centuries of wariness from your bones. 

You heard nothing coming from Feyre’s studio, but you knew that if you were to sneak through the layers of air she’d sealed around the space, you’d meet a male carved from molten heat. 

You waited in one of the spare studio rooms for the High Lord of Autumn to leave, eyes peering through the slit between the door and its hinges. If you stared for long enough, you swore you could see the air beside the door rippling with Autumn heat. 

Finally, Eris Vanserra stepped into the hallway in all his striking glory, followed closely behind by Lucien. Violently red hair hovered over a pale, freckled face composed of angular lines — striking but not unkind. You thought he looked like a lit match with his wiry frame wrapped in resplendent browns, reds, and golds that spoke of forest riches. Or maybe he just looked narrow when standing next to Cassian. That was always a possibility.

“Thank you, Eris.” Feyre squeezed his hand reassuringly. She wore similarly decadent clothes. The moonstone and diamond crown perched atop her light brown hair was a rare sight, but Feyre wore it as naturally as she wore her paint splattered overalls. She was an artist and a High Lady in equal measure, and she sacrificed no part of one in favor of the other.  

The newly minted High Lord of Autumn chuckled darkly, eyes flashing like a living flame. You’d heard horrible tales about Beron Vanserra, his cruelty, and his violence. But whatever traits Eris had inherited from his father he’d sloughed off like a second skin. The molting process had been full of its own pains, but as you assessed him now, you saw only the characteristics he shared with Lucien.  

“Don’t thank me yet. Not until my feet have touched the Continent.” 

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” 

Eris tipped his head, a smirk on his face, then disappeared in a flush of woodsmoke. 

Spring, Winter, Summer, Day, Dawn, and now Autumn. The seven courts had slid into an uneasy alliance once more, weary but willing after decades of war. Feyre wasn’t sure how much more Prythian could take if this transformed into another bloodbath. But if the fledgling plan you’d all helped nurse came to fruition, it wouldn’t come to that… at least that’s what Feyre kept telling herself every night so she could sleep. 

The High Lady jolted back when you slipped out from your hiding spot, cast in a halo of cool-toned light from the dying sun. Cassian shared in Feyre’s surprise. They hadn’t heard you come up the stairs or pass by the door. They hadn’t even sensed you until you made your presence known.

Maybe she’s picking it up from Azriel? Feyre said with some amusement. 

Gods help us all. There’s two of them.

“Where’s Azriel?” You looked to the High Lady for an answer, hands held stiff at your sides. You felt that strange anxiety clawing at your throat. It had dripped into your feelings slowly since the morning, growing like a weed until you couldn’t stop clenching your fists. “I haven’t heard from him in days.” 

Feyre felt a familiar coil of guilt settle in her stomach. 

Don’t tell her about this, Fey. Azriel had begged her, his eyes hard and tired before taking off from the back porch towards The Warren. 

He’d made all of them promise not to tell you about that place. About what he did. About what he was doing. But you weren’t a fool. You knew of his reputation as a Shadowsinger and a Spymaster and the work that came with it. You’d traced some of the scars on his body, plucking the stories from his skin whenever he let you, and you woke up when he did from his silent nightmares. The slightest change in his breathing pattern, the barest flinch of his arm wrapped around your waist was all it took for you to open your bleary eyes and shake him awake. 

But there were some secrets he was still too afraid to reveal, and some secrets he’d buried so deeply he didn’t even know what their monstrous faces looked like anymore. 

“Y/n—” Feyre began.

“I want to know.” You reached for Feyre’s wrist, grasping it so tightly your knuckles paled and Cassian stepped forward. It was a silent reminder that you had the power to take that knowledge from her if you wished. You loved Feyre. You considered her a friend. But the panic wasn’t leaving you. You stared at her desperately, pupils blown wide open. “I need to know he’s alright.” 

Feyre opened her mouth to speak, then froze as Rhysand’s velvety voice entered her mind, strained to the point of breaking.  

Feyre, you need to bring Y/n to The Warren.

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

______________

Author's Note:

85K+ WORDS AND FINALLY THEY'VE FUCKING KISSED HOLY SHIT

I really must applaud you all for your patience because hot DAMN I am FLOORED!!! And yes, yes, I know, I know y'all want Y/n to figure out their mates and I will simply be pleading the fifth and hiding in my room and not telling anyone of you when that will actually happen because I simply cannot! ASFDK;JABSLDFIGUH

*takes a deep breath* Thank you all so much for reading and for your engagement whether that be leaving comments or liking or literally anything because it makes my day and I'm just happy that my passion project/hobby is able to bring people some smidgen of joy because the world really sucks but hey at least we have fanfics

#the shadowsinger and the inkbird #azriel x reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x reader slowburn #azriel x you #azriel x helion's daughter

[ofswordsandpens]

Okay compiling my most critical opinions on the pjo show so far (episodes 1 & 2)

The Gods' Conflict, Foreshadowing, & Big Three Kids

The show has seemingly dropped a lot of the foreshadowing and threat regarding the gods impending war over the theft of the lightning bolt. In the book, Percy remarks about how the weather's been inexplicably weird and extreme. When he gets to camp everyone is on pins and needles about something and they don't want to talk about it but its still very present. By the time he's claimed as a son of Poseidon and everyone's like "oh fuck" and then Chiron finally explains to Percy that the gods think he's the lightning thief, everything clicks into place for the reader. It all makes sense why everything seems so wrong... because things are wrong. Meanwhile in the show, that doesn't carry through as much, so the reveal of the conflict between the gods and why that's a big deal falls flat in comparison imo.

They dropped/stalled the foreshadowing of the fates and the cutting of the string. They could very well include this in future episodes, and probably will, but I think the timing of it - Percy seeing this before he even knew he was a demigod - again carries some hefty significance and helped set the foreboding tone of things being wrong even from the beginning.

They did drop Zeus's attack on Percy in the minotaur battle completely, which does disappoint me. In the book, its lightning that blasts the car off the road. In the show, Sally seemingly loses control of the car. That change is pretty significant, because it's again losing the power of RR's foreshadowing in the book. The attack on Percy outside the camp borders was a duel attack from Zeus and Hades.

Finally, I don't like the changes they made to Percy's claiming scene, namely, the reaction from the rest of CHB. Percy being a son of Poseidon is a huge deal. When Percy's claimed, the attitude is very much begrudging reverence paired with genuine fear of what it means and what he represents. In the book, Percy is claimed. People gasp. Everyone kneels. Annabeth says, "This is really not good." In the show, Percy is claimed. People... stand there? Annabeth smiles - she's going to get her quest. The only person who has the most outright negative reaction is Luke. I won't go so far to say this is out of character for Annabeth, but it is focusing on an entirely different aspect of her character in the moment, and what the audience gets from Percy's claiming scene here, the tone, is now different from the book. Basically, the reverence and fear don't really carry across to the show, which I think is important.

The phrase "forbidden child" slaps tho.

2. Gabe's Characterization, Sally's Characterization, & Why the Changes do Make a Difference

I'm going to say this with great care: The show has absolutely depicted an abusive relationship between Sally and Gabe. The show has shown Sally to be a strong woman who would do anything for her child. The show has shown Gabe to be a controlling, toxic man.

What they have depicted in the show does not read like the characters and dynamic in the books.

Book Gabe is a violent, menacing drunk. He is so disgusting and vile that monsters avoid him. This is overwhelmingly apparent from the second Percy gets home in the book, even before he is aware of the physical abuse Sally has been facing. Percy has already been dealing with physical abuse from him, amongst other things (edit to be more specific: this is including verbal, emotional, & financial abuse). I've already spoke to it here, in-depth, so I'll try to keep it short but all of this has not been translated accurately to the screen. (Is this to say that a person must be overtly abusive to be abusive? No. But does this character on-screen feel like Smelly Gabe? No.) These things have shaped Percy (and Sally) in very specific ways. As others have mentioned: Percy cannot stand alcohol. He meets Dionysus and is reminded of his step-father. He gets to Tartarus and the air reminds him of Gabe.... The character on screen, while abusive, does not share this presence at all, and that makes a difference.

Edit: To emphasize once more, I am not saying that the show has not depicted a realistic portrayal of abuse. It has (verbal, emotional, & financial so far). It has also distinctly changed the tone and Gabe's presence from the book, to the extent that it no longer feels like the same character and that does have a rippling effect on the dynamics he shares with both Sally and Percy.

3. The Lack of Annabeth

Annabeth in the show is just like... really not as present as she is in the book so far, and I'm just kinda like, why lol?

Annabeth in the books is already way more involved in Percy's life. She was in the infirmary feeding Percy ambrosia after the attack (ulterior quest motives lol), she's the one who lead Percy around camp and re-explained godly parentage to him - and its a moment where she's very sincere with him, and even trying to help him! Instead these moments are given to Chiron and Luke, which I do get the merit of, but still, these were her moments!

Annabeth in the books had already surmised that the gods were fighting, something was stolen, and the something bad was going to happen, all before Percy had even been claimed. And she shared that with him! Again, the loss of foreshadowing and little bonding moments has me :(

I'm a little worried how they're going to deal with her crush on Luke because its pretty central to her character in the books! It helps Luke to manipulate her and also keeps her from admitting he's done something wrong. Also, it was very sweet and funny reading her get flustered - It drove home the point that she was just a kid with a crush that she didn't know how to handle. But in the show Luke spoke to her and I was expecting there to be some sort of reaction to it and there just... wasn't? (This is not something I'm laying at Leah's feet btw! Only the writers/directors!) We're only two episodes in tho so maybe we'll see it some more moving forward.

4. The Minotaur Battle

Again, I've already spoken about this in depth here but !!

The lack of Zeus's lightning strike, them all coming to a standstill and just chatting instead of running for their lives, Grover being awake and just sort of off to the side watching the fight, Sally being like "Promise Me Grover Swear it"... it all just doesn't ring right to me

I wanted more panic, more terror, more urgency. Higher stakes. I wanted Grover unconscious, I wanted to see Percy drag him into camp, and I wanted to see more of Percy's grief alongside his rage. Like the book did.

The pacing in the show here, and just overall, is weird

5. Other Stuff

Mrs. Dodds fight kind of fell flat too. It was honestly too sudden and Percy killing her in the show seemed even more accidental than in the book lol. Like, accidental impalement vs intentional swing of the sword.

They really had show Grover throw Percy to the wolves and not just gaslight him, but low-key have a part in getting him expelled? Not sure how I feel about it tbh.

More New York. I wish we had gotten the part of Percy taking the bus home with Grover included cause like? Him ditching Grover was funny, but it would have been the perfect opportunity to show Percy traveling through New York and establish it has his home. Shots of him looking at the city, walking the streets, interacting with people near his building.. yeah.

More Montauk too tbh. Like more shots of him and Sally on the beach rather than just the cabin.

Nectar and Ambrosia! Unless I missed it, which I might have, why have we still not gotten an onscreen depiction of it yet lmao.

#I'll add more tags/thoughts to this later lmao but! #pjo adaptation #pjo #percy jackson #pjo show crit #had to expand more on Gabe cause im already getting comments like: /you know there's more abuse than physical right?/ #yes #I never said there wasnt #I never said that was the only form of abuse percy and sally faced #I said both show Gabe and book Gabe are abusive #but its played differently #tone wise #presence wise #and that matters

[avocad1s]

Trial By Combat - 3

Requested By: No One. Original Work.

CW: Post-Impostor SAGAU,

Summary: Focalors apologizes

Note: This is so late and I apologize for that!

If vou haven't finished the Fontaine Archon quest, please exit stage left.

Part One Part Two Part Four

The rain drops pelted the windows. It seemed never-ending. The sky still looked tormented by the thick overcast of gray clouds that blocked the morning sun. Fontaine hadn’t seen a day of sunshine in days and the Chief Justice couldn’t bring himself to work another day in a row.

No many how many hours he wasted staring at the file created for your case, it did nothing to relieve the amount of sadness he had in his heart. Neuvillette is the most trusted and respected person in the entire nation but even he couldn’t see past the empty accusations the Hydro Archon made.

Once the trial began and he saw your face he had his doubts, your physical appearance was beyond comparison. He didn’t want to believe that you were an imposter, that you had ill intentions but he couldn’t let his personal feelings get in the way of justice.

He wasn’t the only one with these thoughts, people who sat in the audience began to whisper amongst themselves wondering if you really were a fake.

However a few words from Furina were enough to get many people on board.

‘Do not let yourselves be fooled by their appearance my dear people, they want us to let our guard down! I will personally reveal the truth behind their deceit.’

Yet you do not stand trial, you ask to duel for your innocence and he accepts.

That was his biggest mistake.

He knew that you were no match for Clorinde and he knew that he could’ve intervened at any time, but he didn’t.

You laid on the dueling grounds blood quickly poured from your body. Medical staff and Clorinde were quick to carry you away from the public but Neuvillette will never forgive his inaction.

Suddenly he blinks as a raindrop slides down his cheek.

-

Just like she promised, Furina returned to your room at daybreak. Once you were in her line of sight she bows slightly speaking in a soft tone.

“Your Grace, thank you for allowing me to return.”

You say nothing, watching the people down below navigate through the weather with their parasols in hand.

She takes a step forward. Would you allow her to get close to you again? The last thing she wants is for you to yell even if she deserves it. She takes small steps forward, paying close attention to your face taking note of any displeasure you may feel from her presence.

Eventually she was close enough to touch you, she readjusts her hat slightly before kneeling down resting her hand on top of yours. The Archon smiles slightly feeling a sense of relief wash over her.

“I am a fool,” Furina breathes out, “I should’ve been the first to recognize you but I didn’t and now I will pay the price…”

She feels her lips tremble. Was she going to shed tears in front of her God again?

“I know that there’s no way I can fix this but-“

“You’re right Furina,” you interject, “there’s no way you can fix this.”

She looks up at you with watery eyes.

“But I was doing some thinking last night and I want to move on from this.” You finally look down at her examining her expression. “that doesn’t mean I forgive you and I definitely won’t forget what you did.”

Furina let’s out a breath, you truly were a benevolent being. She was ready to do anything for you to give her another chance, even if she had to pull her gnosis out of her chest.

“Thank you for this opportunity Your Grace,” she gives you a smile, “I will do everything in my power to prove my loyalty to you again.”

You decide not to respond to her statement instead turning your gaze to the bundle of flowers on your bedside table. The stems were going limp and the color of the petals were fading. Whoever brought them must’ve forgotten to water them, they’re almost dead now.

Furina stands up wiping her wet cheeks as she gives you a small smile. “Your Grace, would it be alright if I show you around Fontaine? I know everyone would be very happy to see that you’re doing okay.”

You look out the window once more, she was right. There was a large crowd of people who stood outside the building you were in. Many of them holding gifts that they hope to give to you.

You open your mouth to respond but another voice cuts you off.

“Lady Furina that’s not a good idea…”

Clorinde leaned against the threshold of the door, she had dark circles under her eyes as she stared at the two of you. “Their Grace’s wounds are still healing. Walking for extended periods of time could be dangerous.”

Furina pouts slightly at her words but she knew Clorinde was right. If you were to tear your stitches you might not survive another operation, and the mere thought of you dying sends shivers down the Archon’s spine.

“You should let them get plenty of rest for now.” Clorinde suggests, “The medical staff will return tomorrow to change their bandages and give an update on their condition.“

You can see Furina visibly deflate at her words, “I know, I know…”

With a bit more pushing, Furina soon left with Clorinde leaving you alone in the room once again. Suddenly you feel a wave a fatigue wash over you, maybe not getting any sleep throughout the night was a bad idea. You stand from the windowsill and walk slowly over to the bed sinking into the soft material. A sigh leaves your mouth as you close your eyes listening to the sounds of rain against the glass until you eventually fell asleep.

-

You wake up to the sound of small footsteps, their voices are hushed as they walk around the room. You decide to keep your eyes closed, curious what their intentions of coming here were.

“Let’s change the flowers before they wake up. We don’t want to get caught.”

Hmm. So they’re the ones bringing the flowers.

You open your eyes sitting up in bed and your meet with…

…a Melusine?

“Oh no! We’ve been caught!”

The two hang their heads down sadly, as if they were were just caught by their parent.

“So you two were the ones who brought flowers to my bed?”

The Melusine look at each other then at you.

“Monsieur Neuvillette asked us to bring these to you.” One of them confessed.

You blink, “Neuvillette? He asked you to bring these?”

She nods holding the flowers out to you, “will you take them? It would make him really happy if you did.”

You hesitate for a moment, staring at the bouquet in the Melusine’s hands. Even if you couldn’t forgive any of them now for what happened. What good would holding a grudge do?

You take the flowers bringing them to your face to smell the sweet scent. “Thank you for bringing these to me, tell Neuvillette I said thank you.”

The Melusine give you a closed eye smile nodding as they walk towards the door. However before they were fully out of earshot, you hear one of them say:

“Maybe we’ll have some better weather now.”

You look down at the flowers, they truly were beautiful. They were Romaritime flowers, ones they could only be picked with the hydro element. You feel a small smile spread on your face as you replace the other bouquet with the new one. With a busy schedule like his, Neuvillette must’ve went out of his way to get these for you.

-

-

Underneath the cover a darkness, a large ship docks right outside the court of Fontaine.

It was unusual for a ship to come at this time but there was no mistaking that symbol that steered any citizen away as quickly as possible.

“Lady Harbinger, we’ve arrived.”

The Knave stands from her seat, she wasn’t here for diplomatic reasons or for her comrade that rotted in Fontaine’s prison. Her reasons for returning home were purely selfish.

She steps off the boat her heel landing in a puddle the was slowly drying from the warm breeze Sumeru’s desert nearby. The Knave looks up expecting to see rain clouds but is met with thousands of stars spread across the night sky. It was a clear night.

“All of you head to the Northland Bank and do not reveal our true reason for coming here to anyone. I will retrieve Their Grace myself.”

-

© avocad1s 2023

Tagging: @bittersweetorpheus @esthelily @tempestlart @angelofdarkness2 @mmeatt @dxprived4-starboys

If your @ is bolded, for some reason I cannot tag you! :(

If you wish to be removed from the tag list you can comment or inbox me and I’ll take you off :)

#genshin cult au #sagau #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin cult #sagau x reader #imposter sagau #sagau impostor au #self aware genshin

[transmascutena]

some thoughts on photography and memory in utena:

on the wall in nemuro memorial hall, there are pictures of real people. i'm not sure who they are, but i assume they're of people involved in making the show. either way, they're obviously not real; in the close-up shots of them, they change into pictures of the black rose duelists and other imagery from the show. i imagine it's there as a fun detail by the creators, but also to show how weird and inconsistent reality itself is in the black rose arc.

as for the black rose duel images themselves, it's possible that they are literal as i've talked about in a previous post, but what i think is more likely, is that utena noticing them is a visual representation of her connecting the dots of what's really been going on in this arc.

when mikage brings up the idea of memories and eternity, we see the picture on the wall behind utena, of her at her parents funeral. and behind mikage we see one of his own defining memories.

a pretty clear line is being drawn between memory and photographs. in fact, memories are so important to mikage that photographs are his black rose duel symbol. it's the one he keeps of mamiya and tokiko, altered to look like anthy's disguise, just like his memories are. through mikage we see both how memories of the past can keep you trapped in it, as well as the malleability of these memories. let's look at everybody else:

saionji has a framed photograph of him and touga as kids on his desk. he values their friendship, or at least the memory of how it used to be. he idealizes the time touga was less cruel (or maybe just the time saionji wasn't aware of his cruelty.)

miki doesn't have any literal photographs of kozue or the sunlit garden, though his memories of them are often framed as such. he also keeps a picture of anthy amidst his sheet music. she is his idealized memory now.

juri has the locket of course, inside of which is a cutout of shiori from a picture captured in the moment that ends up defining their entire relationship. is this the version of shiori that juri idealizes? not really, but she is fixated on her resentment of shiori's percieved cruelty, just not the cruelty of taking the boy away. juri keeps this photograph closer than anybody else does with theirs, but she also keeps it hidden. this could mean she treasures her memories the most out of everyone, and is also the least open about it, although i'm not sure i believe the first part.

nanami has the photo-album of her and touga; she idealizes her relationship with him, as well as their childhood. when she makes the connection that touga is adopted, the photos are scattered all over her bed, probably to represent her emotional state.

touga doesn't keep any photographs from what we see, which makes sense with everything we know about him. unlike the rest of the council, he doesn't have any idealized memories of his childhood. but he does use akio's camera, so let's talk about that.

the camera is, much like the car, a tool that only akio is shown to own (although, wakaba does mention a photography club in episode 34.) like the car, it is used to facilitate his grooming (specifically of touga and saionji when he takes those shirtless pictures with them.) and, also like the car, he offers to lend it to touga, to make him feel more like an equal part of the whole thing. unlike the car though, touga accepts the camera.

the photoshoot scene in episode 37 has a transition where the camera shutter sound effect is played over the previous scene. over the shot of utena and anthy holding hands after confiding in each other about akio. i think it's to show that he's always watching, and that they can never truly be free of him as long as they're in ohtori.

i think it also shows the idea of akio framing the narrative of the show as a whole. he plays a sort of director role in it, in that he directs the events happening, as well as how they're portrayed. it's no coincidence that he is quite literally behind the "camera" in episode 33. like the car, a symbol of akio's power and sexual abuse (which is not-coincidentally also present in all of the photoshoot scenes,) his camera (his narrative, his biased framing of events) is ever-present.

and then there's the most important photograph in the show, the frame it all ends on. the picture utena and anthy took together is, unlike every other photograph, used as a look into their future. the reason they take it in the first place is because utena realizes she has no photos of anthy, which distresses her, presumably because she worries that their friendship might not last forever, and she wants something to remember anthy by. this obviously comes with the risk of making anthy an idealized memory, like every other person put in a photograph in this show, but instead it ends up as a symbol for their love. akio may have set up the camera, but anthy (with the help of chu-chu) manipulated their positions so her and utena could hold hands. she also cuts akio out of the frame, much like she cuts him out of her life in the last episode. she doesn't want his presence to tarnish her and utena's memory anymore (although he isn't completely gone from the photograph either, as he will never truly be forgotten.)

#id in alt text #finally finished this post #these are not the only photographs in the show just the ones linked closest to the themes i wanted to discuss here #revolutionary girl utena #analysis #utena #mikage #saionji #miki #juri #nanami #touga #akio #anthy #m #the narrative

[frownyalfred]

Just imagine how the league finds out Bruce bites... Bad guy of the week holding the bat up with one hand, hanging over the side of a building while the rest of the league watches in horror

And then in slow motion the bat twists around rears back and just sinks his teeth into the guys arm. The guy drops him off the side of the building less because he actually meant to follow through on that threat and more because WTF???? OWW?????

Kind of like when someone picks up a cat that does not want to be held and you can see in slow motion when the ears go back and the cat decides it's best course of action is to maul them

Let Bruce bite people 2k24, his entire body is a weapon and by god does he know how to use it. Only cowards would think Bruce isn't 5 seconds away from biting the bad guy of the minute at all times.

It’s one of those tools that a lot of the ritualistic “honorable” fighters Bruce sometimes faces wouldn’t consider acceptable. But it goes in Gotham, because to fight in Gotham IS to fight dirty.

other “Gotham style” illegitimate moves:

Biting (as we’ve covered)

Groin shots (dirty anywhere else, expected in Gotham)

Poisoned or drugged blades

Poisoned or drugged bullets

Eye gouging

Going for the tendons and walking muscles (slicing the hamstring, Achilles, etc)

Acid/pollen/gas/corrosives etc

Anything that’ll cause more than 6 months of physical therapy (fair game up to and including paralysis)

When you take all that in, it makes sense that Batman has to fight dirty. He’s up against acid throwing, tendon slicing baddies. Duels with the League and other “trained” fighters are probably a breath of fresh air.

#asks #anon #bruce wayne #batman #dc

[geekforhorror]

pls pls plsssss i want older!anakin to fuck me where everyone could hear us so baaaaad!!! want obi wan to yell at us for being so reckless & disrespectful!! also daddy kink! imagine age gap!

pls write something about his i love your writing!!!!!!!!!

I PRACTICALLY MOANED AT THIS. ALSO I APPRECIATE THE FEEDBACK

shameless

pairing: older!anakin x fem!reader

warning(s): SMUT (DNI IF YOU’RE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH IT!), dom!anakin, sub!reader, established age gap (anakin is 35, reader is 20), anakin is a master in this (not readers master tho!), unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, pet names, divorced au (sorry miss amidala!), etc.

————

You always had a thing for Skywalker.

You didn’t know what made him so alluring. Maybe it was his confidence, good looks, personality, or perhaps it was all three. You had developed a crush on him from the very moment you encountered him in the temple’s halls. From then on, you could barely keep your composure around him. It started off with blushing and now it had gotten to the point where you had to clench your thighs together whenever he spoke to you. You tried your best to shield your thoughts from the confident Jedi and you thought you succeeded in doing so.

Oh, how wrong you were.

See, unbeknownst to you, Anakin had picked up on your behavior and instantly wanted to know what it was that was making you that flustered. He already had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. Luckily, he would have the opportunity to see if he was right or not. One night, he had been assigned to be your dueling partner since your master was out on a mission. You were nervous to say the least. How the fuck were you supposed to spend an entire hour with him when you could barely keep your composure around him for more than five minutes? All you knew was that you were screwed.

————

The time had finally come where you had to meet Skywalker in the dueling chambers. Here you were, outside of the very room where the man you had grown feelings for was, yet you were too nervous to actually enter the room. You didn’t know how to describe it. Being around him was so… intoxicating, but also nerve wracking. You knew better than to let these thoughts surface during your session with him, but it would be rather tricky when you had to duel at the same time. Besides, what would he think? He would probably report you to the council the first chance he got for inappropriate behavior on your behalf. That’s why this couldn’t come to light.

To prepare yourself, you took a deep breath in and collected yourself enough before finally entering the room. As soon as you entered the room, you were met with those mesmerizing blue eyes you loved so much. They had a way of making you gaze into them until you were in a dazed-like state. It was hard to look away, but you managed to do so, keeping in mind that you couldn’t be caught doing a thing like that.

“Hello Master Skywalker. It’s a pleasure to duel with you again,” you say too cheerfully. Fuck.

“The feeling is mutual,” he replies with a rather nonchalant tone to his voice. You didn’t know what it was about his voice that always had you dripping through your panties, but fuck. Maybe it was the way his voice sounded like pure velvet.

“Are you ready?” he asks you.

“Yes,” you said a little too quick.

“Alright then. Positions!”

You do as he says and take your normal stance, which you had learned from your master. Anakin takes his signature pose, the room now filled with silence that wasn’t there before. Suddenly, his lightsaber strikes in the air and gives you barely any time to react. However, you know better than to let his hasty movements derail yours. You decide to use your instincts to your advantage.

“I’m not gonna go easy on you,” he says with a cheshire smile.

“Good,” you confidently reply.

He couldn’t help but chuckle at your rather fierce response. He always admired your boldness and confidence. It was what set you apart from all the other Jedi. However, you were also selfless and willing to sacrifice everything for the ones you loved. He saw parts of himself in you. That drive and desire.

He saw your response as an invitation to go harder on you as he swayed his body around while attempting to strike you with his wielded weapon. You blocked him with every breath you took and focused on finding his weakness. Fortunately for him, your focus on defeating him allowed him the perfect opportunity to lodge himself inside that pretty little brain of yours and see what you were hiding from him. After all, his mind reading abilities were way stronger than yours, so it was likely you wouldn’t even notice.

Suddenly, he was met with a vision. It was one of you: all alone in your quarters, wearing nothing but your lacy bra. He was met with the sight of your cunt, all covered in slick and creamy arousal. There you were, all sprawled out on the bed while plunging two of your fingers inside your needy pussy—imagining it was him stretching your tight hole until you were practically begging to cum. Just as he was about to strike, his ears were met with your needy moans.

“Fuck- Ana- Anakin,” you whined out, loud enough for bypassers in the hall to hear.

The vision disappeared just as fast as it was displayed and was replaced with another, only this one was more of a thought and more dirty than the last. This time, it was you thinking of his hands roaming your body and pounding his cock into you until you were a crying and moaning mess around him.

How could a girl like you have such nasty thoughts about her superior?

He felt himself grow hard in the confines of his pants and knew he had to get out before you noticed. When he came back, he was met with your leg swiftly coming up in the air in order to counter his previous actions. Despite being distracted for some time, he somehow overpowered the thoughts of you just enough to hit you right in the leg with his training saber, declaring victory.

“Well, well,” you heard him say.

“What is it?” you say, sounding intrigued but also confused.

“It seems like I beat you despite getting into that pretty little head of yours,” he finally admits.

“Wait what?”

“Don’t play dumb with me… I know every dirty little thought you have of me,” Anakin chuckles confidently. “It’s quite adorable, actually.

You felt a flush of embarrassment fill your cheeks as they were now a rosy shade of pink. “It’s not that hard to sense in you, angel,” he replies, reading your very thoughts. “I found them quite amusing. The way you want me to kiss all over your pretty little body, how you want me to ruin you and make you mine, the feeling of what it would be like to be taken by a man, not a mere Jedi boy. They don’t know what you want like I do,” he says cockily.

“I- I don’t know what to say,” you admit.

“Then I’ll do the talking. From the moment I first saw you, I knew I had to have you. I mean, why else do you think you ended up with me all these times your master was out? It’s because I told the others to let me train you even if it was temporary.”

“I had no idea, Master Skywalker,” you say truthfully, but also surprised at what you were hearing right now.

“I think we’re past all the formalities, don’t you? Call me Anakin,” he says.

“Anakin, I had no idea,” you correct yourself.

“That’s better. Now do you want to take this somewhere a little more… private?” he asks.

“Like where?” you ask playfully.

“Perhaps my quarters?” he suggests.

“I’d like that,” you say with an ear to ear grin, clearly showing you had gotten over your shyness.

“Follow me then,” he says before reaching his hand out to yours. You take his hand before he walks the two of you out of the room and into the dark halls of the the temple. The two of you look for anyone who may be lurking in the halls, but there’s no one. Before you know it, you guys have reached his room and that’s when he hastily opens the door and slams it just as hard.

He wastes no time before hungrily kissing you on the lips and pushing you against the wall of his room. The kiss is primarily fueled by pent-up desire that had been built up in the two of you for what seemed like forever.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this... wanted you," you pant against his lips.

"Trust me...I do," Anakin clarifies. He then moves his lips and latches them onto your neck, sucking roughly at the surrounding skin.

"Anakin..." you whine.

"Yes, sweetheart?" he responds.

"I want you to fuck me," you confess.

"You do, huh?" he rhetorically asks, already knowing the answer you would give him.

"Please Ani.. don't tease me," you pathetically say. You know how you sound right now, but you're too lost in the moment to care about any of that.

"Anything for you, baby," he coos.

With that, he swiftly grabs your hips before letting you wrap your legs around his waist. He guides the two of you toward his bed and gently lays you down. "I'm gonna treat you so well that you won't be able to think about any other man besides me... gotta have you all to myself, baby," Anakin says full of passion while undressing you until you're all bare for him and only him. He knows you want to undress him, but he stops you before you can even lay a hand on any of his garments. He starts to strip himself of any and all clothes he previously had on and maker, his body did not disappoint. Despite his age, he had kept most of the lean physique he had when he was in his twenties. His abs were sculpted to absolute perfection. The way his waist was so defined practically had you drooling. He was perfect in every way. Even his dick was. It was all red at the tip and sat upright, but the thing that stood out the most was how long and thick it was.

"Eyes up here, darling," he says with a slight laugh.

"I don't know if I can take all of that," you shamefully admit.

"You want it though, don't you?" Anakin asks.

"Yes."

That was all you had to say before he positioned himself on the bed and instantly inserted himself inside your tight pussy, giving you no time to adjust to his size as he thrusts into your greedy walls. You immediately felt full of his thick cock and felt yourself clench around him.

"Need to train this hole if you're gonna be all mine," he grits.

"Please!" you cry out, digging your nails into his defined shoulders, which only eggs him on even further.

"Need to ruin you for any other guys, yeah?" he goes on.

You can only nod your head yes due to the newfound pleasure filling your body. No other man had made you feel this good. Maybe it was because one of them had experience like Anakin did. Relationships were strictly forbidden for Jedi to have, but there were rumors about Senator Padme Amidala being pregnant with Anakin's children. You thought they were merely rumors, but that was before you had his cock deep inside your weeping cunt, thrusting until you were all raw and sore. Before tonight, you never knew that's what you wanted.

"Harder!" you beg of him.

"Poor little thing... hasn't been full of my cock for more than 5 minutes and is already begging for more" he tuts.

"Please, daddy!" you scream.

"That's right baby," he says in a soft yet promising tone.

Fulfilling your needs, he spreads your legs even further to get an even better angle of your pussy before animalistically pounding his fat cock into your swollen walls. You couldn't help but loudly moan at his movements. You knew you were giving other people the chance to hear what was going on, but you were too cock drunk to care. The sound of skin hitting skin filled the thin walls of the room and probably the entire hall, as a matter of fact. You felt too full to even form coherent thoughts. He wasn't planning on slowing down anytime soon now that you had given him the green light to go harder. He wouldn't stop until you were a crying mess.

A familiar feeling started to form as you saw stars in your blurred vision. You felt a rope of heat fill your stomach and knew you wouldn't be able to hold off for much longer.

"'M so close Master...please let me cum!" you cry out.

"Just hold on for a bit longer... wanna make you feel as good as possible," he replies. You nod your head at this and comply with his words. He suddenly then ruts his hips even rougher on yours, knowing you would be bruised for days to come.

"I'm gonna-" you start to say.

"Let go for me baby. I've got you... cum all over my cock."

With his permission, you finally let go and spill all over him while he's still fucking you through it. He groans at the feeling of your warmth around his hard cock and cums shortly after. He pulls out of you before lying down next to you. "You did so well for me, darling," he says in a reassuring manner.

Just as you're about to speak, there's a sudden knock on the door that alerts the two of you. The two of you rush to put your clothes on, not wanting to answer the door naked for whoever is on the other side. Once the two of you are fully dressed, Anakin opens the door and it's none other than your master Obi-Wan.

Shit, the two of you were screwed.

"I see that the two of you are finally done engaging in....activities. However, please remember that some of us were forced to listen to your obscenities. Please come with me otherwise you will be dealing with far worse!" he says in an almost lecturing dad tone.

This was gonna be a long night.

#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin star wars #hayden christensen #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars fandom #star wars anakin #anakin x reader #attack of the clones

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Hi I’ve seen your obey me and twisted wonderland works and it made me wondering about Levi and Idia since both of them are otakus

Hope your having a nice day

Yandere Leviathan Vs Yandere Idia Shroud

Having both of these introverted and otome loving boys to look after

If you introduce them the right way they’re sure to get along

“Idia this is the supercool gamer Levi and Levi this is the ultimate gamer genius Idia!”

“...Hi…”

“H-hello…”

“...”

“...”

“...so I hear you have games that actually pull you in?”

“And I hear you built an entire system?”

Sooner then you’ll realize it these two are going to be getting along just fine

While you might have to give them a little push 

They’ll be fast friends

“Now for the first test of the anywhere-anygame-apparatus begins!”

“Ah~if this works this is going to revolutionize our teams stats!��

They’re sure to get themselves, yourself, and the entirety of the house involved

Because their such good friends it’ll be a surprise when the one they’ve been gushing about turns out to be the same person–you

“So…it’s come to this…”

“Alas I knew a man of such taste would yearn for my love interest.”

“Aye, this means we can only do one thing for our friendship to continue.”

“I agree…”

“PvP!” “PvP!”

From then on they’ll be going through a series of quests and duels as they fight over the right to nervously mull over how to get your attention

It gets intense for them

Leading to all sorts of chaos that drags everyone into their shenanigans

But eventually a time will come that in the heat of their ‘battle’ that they realize their biggest mistake

Leaving their flag—you unguarded

Letting their brother and classmates take up your attention

Unanimously they decide wiping out the competition and then fighting each other are the way to go

“Now we need to discuss our strategy against the enemy. As otakus we’re clearly had a disadvantage.”

“I agree…the place is brimming with flashy extroverts just waiting to make moves on them.”

But between the two of them plus Ortho’s innocent assistance they’re a force to be reckoned with

So don’t kick up too much a fuss when they excitedly invite you to play with them

It’s certainly not to distract you while they ‘accidentally’ terrorize the others with a new game or invention

“We can be civil….for now.”

“But the time will one day come when we’ll have to defeat one another.”

“Yes…but until then I’ll need your help on this chest.”

“You know it!” 

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twst x reader #yandere obey me #yandere obey me x reader #yandere obey me shall we date #yandere harem #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere leviathan #yandere obey me leviathan #yandere idia shroud #yandere idia shroud x reader #yandere idia x reader #yandere idia x reader x yandere leviathan