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cyberclouddream · 7 months ago

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Expert Energy, "Good" or "Bad"

Your Sun and Leo placement can represent what you inherently come off as an expert in, or at least draw attention by seeming very wise or knowledgeable in this area.

Note: aspects or other planets can change how these placements manifest. These can also apply to places where you have stelliums or even Ketu, Jupiter, or Saturn. Especially for heavy 1st house/10th house placements)

How Other Placements Can Manifest According to The Insights Below:

Jupiter: you may come off too much in how the insights manifest, like you're good but it's forced or overwhelming in some way (also 9th house)

Saturn: you may still be learning these insights and come off as if you should've already mastered this area, or you may push boundaries too much here (also 6th house and 12th house)

Mercury: (how you communicate your emotional reactions) you're good at finding ways to bring these ideas or behaviors into any situation or topic

Moon: (your actual mind, because the brain operates on and remembers emotional responses to situations; your nervous system is about how things make you feel) your emotions tend to revolve around these insights, like getting triggered (positively/negatively) when these behaviors/ideas are acknowledged (also 4th house)

Venus: may come off as if you're more attracted to the idea of these insights, or make it too transactional (also Libra or 7th house/5th house)

Mars/Pluto: may come off as if you're trying to force these behaviors or insights onto others, very assertive or adamant, even if unintentional; especially with Pluto, it may seem like you're always trying to transform/evolve these aspects about yourself or others

Ketu/South Node: you may come off too attached to the insights or behaviors, like it's a comfort zone, like you're an elder who's stuck/stubborn in their outdated ways (also Cancer/Taurus)

Rahu/North Node: you may have good insights but executing/committing to them may be difficult or unreliable, as if you're a excitable child learning (also Aries or Gemini, or 3rd house)

Sun/Leo in the 1st House/Aries

knowing exactly who you are and not apologizing for it

making confidence look easy, even when you're faking it

being the one who always starts things, whether it's a project, party, or an argument

owning you personal style like you invented it (like having a signature look)

teaching people how to walk into a room and actually own it

calling the shots and looking like you've got it all figured out

turning yourself into the main character in literally every situation

making bold moves while everyone else is still thinking about it

leading the way, even if no one asked you to

being unapologetically yourself, no matter how unconventional it may seem

rallying people behind you with your passion and enthusiasm

starting things from scratch and making them happen fast

making a bold statement or taking action without overthinking it

being the first to try something nw, and making it look exciting and easy

Sun/Leo in the 2nd House/Taurus

knowing how to make money, spend it, and look good doing it

treating yourself without guilt because you know your worth

finding ways to get paid for just being yourself

spotting quality, whether it's in people, things, or ideas

being the person everyone goes to for advice on how to "level up"

making people think you've got a secret guide to wealth and security

building a life that screams "stability", even if you're winging it

teaching people how to value themselves without settling for less

staying loyal and steadfast, even when others don't appreciate it

knowing how to take care of yourself and enjoy life on your own terms

working hard and making it look easy

making everything around you feel luxurious ad comfortable

Sun/Leo in the 3rd House/Gemini

taking your way into (our out of) literally anything

knowing a little something about everything, and making it sound interesting

turning random observations into deep, meaningful insights

explaining complicated stuff in a way that actually makes sense

keeping everyone connected, whether it's through gossip, memes, or group chats

sounding like you've read five books, listened to three podcasts, and watched a documentary before breakfast

making small talk feel like an art form, lol

asking questions that make people go, "Wow, I've never thought of that before."

being the walking, talking human version of "Let me Google that for you."

striking up a conversation with literally anyone, anywhere

changing your mind, and making it look like you just had an epiphany every time, and making it make sense

Sun/Leo in the 4th House/Cancer

creating a sens of home, no matter where you are

knowing exactly what people need to feel safe and grounded

being the person everyone turns to for emotional support (even when you're tired of it)

protecting your privacy while somehow knowing everyone else's business

navigating family drama without losing your cool

being the emotional foundation of your friend group

teaching others how to reconnect with their roots or heritage

reminding people that sometimes, all you need is a cozy spot and a little peace

keeping traditions and memories alive and making them feel even more special

making everyone feel like family, even if they're not

nurturing others in ways that make them feel understood and loved

Sun/Leo in the 5th House/Leo

being the life of the party/center of attention without even trying, or being that person who makes every group hangout 10x more interest

turning everyday moments into something fun and unforgettable

expressing yourself so boldly it makes others wish they could do the same

making creativity look like second nature, especially in ways that leave everyone in awe

romance, flirting, and knowing how to keep things exciting

taking risks that somehow pay off in ways no one expects

living like your life is a movie and you're the star

teaching others how to stop taking life so seriously

showing people how to channel their inner child without being embarrassed

creating drama and excitement that everyone wants to be part of

making even your flaws look charismatic and endearing

being the leader that inspire others just by being yourself

turning anything into a celebration, even the smallest victories

Sun/Leo in the 6thHouse/Virgo

having your life together (or at 9least faking it convincingly)

getting things done efficiently, like it's a superpower

organizing chaos and making it look easy

spotting the details everyone else misses

working hard without needing constant applause or recognition

showing people how to find meaning in the little, everyday things

balancing productivity with self-care like a pro

keeping systems running smoothly, whether it's at work, home, or in a friend group

staying grounded while everyone else is losing their mind

making things look polished and put together

spotting flaws that no one else notices and fixing them without making a scene

Sun/Leo in the 7th House/Libra

understanding relationships like you wrote the manual

making people feel seen, heard, or like they matter, because you really listen or care

knowing how to be your best self in a partnership, without losing who you are

playing the role of the ultimate mediator in any drama

knowing exactly how to balance independence and intimacy without losing yourself

getting people to open up to you without them even realizing it

turning awkward situations into smooth connections with just a few words

making compromises look like a "win-win", even if no one knows who's actually winning

knowing how to make any space feel welcoming, comfortable, and stylish

being the voice of reason when things get too complicated or messy

Sun/Leo in the 8th House/Scorpio

reading between the lines and catching what others are hiding

making uncomfortable, taboo subjects feel like no big deal

embracing change and transformation like it comes second nature

seeing people's true motives without them saying a word

turning pain or loss into something stronger, like you're constantly rebuilding yourself

handling deep, dark emotions without freaking out

turning risk and uncertainty into something thrilling and inevitable

making people face their fears or desires without them realizing it

knowing how to get to the core of any issue, no matter how messy

holding secrets that make you seem like a mystery no one can crack

being a magnet for intense connections that leave people wanting more

handling drama with that cold, unbothered energy that makes everyone stop and watch

Sun/Leo in the 9th House/Sagittarius

seeing the bigger picture and getting others to do the same

talking about travel, philosophy, and the meaning of life like it's your full-time job

opening people's minds to new ideas and different ways of thinking

challenging everyone's beliefs (in the most inspiring way possible)

making complex concepts sound simple and inspiring

getting people to question everything they thought they knew

living with a sense of adventure, whether it's physical, intellectual, or spiritual

being the person everyone goes to when they need a new perspective on life, or when they crave adventure or growth

making every trip, now matter how small, feel like an epic journey

making people see the world as a place full of possibilities

always having a story that blows people's mind

being brutally honest, but somehow making it sound like wisdom

Sun/Leo in the 10th House/Capricorn

building a reputation that people can't help but notice (and respect)

projecting success like it's your default setting

knowing how to present yourself in a way that makes others respect you instantly

making your career or public life seem like your true calling

turning ambition into results that speak for themselves

showing people what hard work, determination, and success really looks like

navigating power dynamics without breaking a sweat

being the person who looks like they've made it, even if they're still climbing

leading the way with quiet confidence that others can't help but follow

keeping your cool and staying grounded while everyone else panics

knowing exactly how to climb the ladder, no shortcuts

mastering self-control and turning it into your greatest strength

Sun/Leo in the 11th House/Aquarius

making everyone feel like they can be themselves around you, no judgment

rallying people around a cause or goal like it's the most natural thing in the world

being the person who always knows what's next before anyone else does

showing others how to break free from the norms and embrace their quirks

dreaming big and making people believe their wildest ideas can happen, and knowing how turn your idealistic vision into reality, even when others doubt it

knowing exactly how to find your tribe and making it thrive

being ahead of trends and getting people to follow your lead without even trying

making independence look like the only option

making friends with anyone, no matter how different they are

finding creative solutions to problems that no one else can

Sun/Leo in the 12th House/Pisces

understanding the deeper, hidden parts of people that no one else can see, like you can read the unspoken

living in the background but somehow the one that everyone goes to for advice

embracing solitude in a way that makes others want to experience it too

helping people heal in ways they didn't even know they needed

being mysterious without even trying, like you're always one step ahead of everyone else

showing people how to embrace their shadows and still come out stronger

knowing how to find peace in the madness of life

living in a dream world and making it look magical

disappearing when life gets too real

being a human sponge for everyone's emotions

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dangerous-yam-fries · 8 months ago

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NSFW Yandere Alien x Human GN Reader - Introduction

Asks and Suggestions are open and encouraged!

Warnings: kidnapping/alien abduction (tee hee), noncon/dubcon, uhhh not manhandling alienhandling?, MINORS JUST LEAVE I DON'T CARE WHERE YOU GO AS LONG AS IT'S FAR FROM ME

Zuri is the ruthless captain of the spacecraft Seed, plundering other ships and satellite-societies. Standing at roughly 8ft tall, his gray skin laden with tattoos and scars, long blue hair tied into dreadlocks, and his eyes. The first time you saw them, you weren’t sure what color of blue they were.

Whether it was the color of Earth, the icy planet of Kobu, or the reflective satellite society of Framtida, they were bluer than anything you had ever laid eyes upon before.

Zuri and his crews often robbed research ships for things of scientific value, usually to sell for I.U. (Interstellar Units).

It was your 3rd year working on the research spacecraft Argon. You weren’t a particularly noticeable employee, just a custodian of the first quadrant. So when the ship was breached by Seed, you didn’t think they’d bother to go after you.

You hid in your shared quarters, just sitting on your bed and guarding your belongings while you stared at all the other empty beds. You heard crashes and screams, alarms and gunfire, but all you did was clutch your pillow to your ears and wait for it stop.

But then you heard the unmistakable sound of a code being entered into the keypad of the room you were in. You dove under the bed, your body clinging to the wall as you stayed quiet. You saw pairs of boots walking through the room, heard hushed voices and watched as they looked under beds and rummaged through luggage.

The blood in your veins ran cold as they got closer and closer to you, and finally, you were face to face with a pair of impossibly blue eyes. You were so star struck that you didn’t struggle when you pulled out from under the bed and thrown into the middle of the room.

“Did you really think you could hide?” That sent a chill down your spine, or maybe it was just the cold sweat building up beneath your clothes.

You couldn’t speak, all you could see were those striking irises. It wasn’t until you felt a slap to your cheek that you spoke. “N-no.” You choked on your words, dread suffocating your throat as you prepared for the end.

When Zuri looked at you, he saw the fear that filled your eyes and how you forced your tears back. It made him want to fill you with something else, and make you cry.

So then Zuri gave you a choice, die right then and there, or join his crew. You chose the latter, but you slowly came to regret that decision as you begun life on Seed.

As a newbie, you kept your head down and did as you were told, but that wasn’t enough to keep the captain away from you. You thought that Captain Zuri wanted to kill you, or worse, so you did everything in your power to avoid him. But that only made him angrier. It wasn’t everyday that he of all people took an interest in someone, and your apparent disinterest in him left a mark on his pride.

Zuri thought long and hard as to why you weren’t reciprocative of his courting. He was obviously a powerful mate, handsome too, with wealth that could buy him a small planet if he so desired. Thinking about how to make himself more appealing to you only made him more obsessed, until you were all he could think of. An itch that he just couldn’t scratch, sitting rent free in his head.

For the next few months, you would be cleaning or doing repairs and he would be watching you. Sometimes through security cameras, usually brooding in a dark corner, or even looming over your shoulder. Zuri also gave you special privileges. You got your own room, small as it was, you always got off duty before meal times so you’d get early pickings, and you were even allowed to use the private showers.

But for some reason it wasn’t enough to cury any favor with you. You’re still as afraid of him as you were on the first day that you met, and it drives Zuri insane.

Humans are so difficult, so picky and confusing and complicated. So he’d have to make things simpler for you. Zuri found you on the east side of the ship, you were distracted with cleaning the windows. Well, not cleaning. The wash towel laid dripping at your hip while you gazed out the window into the void of space.

You looked so peaceful and content. But that changed as soon as you saw Zuri in the reflection.

You quickly apologized for getting off task, and you begun cleaning again. “Come with me. Now.” He ordered you and ignored your pleas, he dragged you back to his personal quarters, his grip unwavering.

He didn’t let go of you even once the door shut behind you both, Zuri simply stood in front of you, towering over you with his tall form. Humans have a tradition of getting down on one knee to profess their love, so that’s exactly what he did.

You were surprised that he was kneeling before you, and a little concerned. You tried to pry your wrist out of his hand, tried to get him to stand up, but he refused. Zuri confessed his love to you right then and there, his blue eyes looked so firm and steady, he was so sure of himself.

When you politely refused, he wasn’t even mad. Words and subtle gestures weren’t going to get through to a dense little human like yourself. So Zuri was going to fuck his love into you, then, surely, you’d know just how strongly he felt about you.

You were of course, extremely opposed to the idea, you struggled, but he was much stronger than you. Screaming didn’t work either, the room had thick metal walls with top of the line noise cancellation and isolation. Besides, Zuri was the captain, no one would have helped you anyways.

You were quickly stripped and thrown onto the bed, and Zuri kept a knee on your chest to stop you from running while he took his clothes off.

You saw his many tattoos, scars, and stretch marks from his muscles. And you saw his dick. He was already erect and dripping precum. It was large, and you could tell it was heavy too, some of his pre dripping onto your bare skin as he caged you in beneath him.

Zuri has waited for you far too long to wait for release, so you’re quickly forced on top of him, 69 style. You grip his dick while he services you orally, trying to stretch you out as quickly as possible. You can feel his ribbed cock throbbing in your hand, yelped when you feel a harsh slap to your ass.

You get the memo. He wants you to suck his dick, you can just barely get the head into your mouth as you rub and pump the rest of his length with both of your hands. You stop when you cum, the stimulus becoming too distracting, but this time he moves your body so that you’re straddling him.

You can’t bring yourself to look into Zuri’s eyes, the shame becoming too much as tears spill down your cheeks. And there it is. That look that he’s been looking for.

You look so beautiful stuffed full of his length, crying into his arms as he sends tremors of pleasure throughout your body.

You’re finally his<3

#yandere x male reader #male reader #yandere x reader #yandere alien #alien x human #alien x reader #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #female reader #gn reader

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serpentface · 9 months ago

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THE HIGHLAND KHAIT: AN OVERVIEW

The Highland khait, known internally as the feydhi, is a landrace breed of the Highlands of contemporary Imperial Wardin, and highly distinctive from all other native khait in the region. Their horns are notably unusual, being curved and pointed and frequently asymmetrical, which is often cited as a result of their folkloric origins as hybrids of khait and the (asymmetrically one-antlered) scimitar deer. They are very stocky and small for a riding breed, typically standing no more (and usually less) than 55 inches at the shoulder. Their coats come in a wide variety of colors and patterning, though a majority of individuals are dun or gray. Their manes are notably short and stiff, and they lack the beards common in many other khait breeds.

While notably slower than other khait, feydhi are very surefooted and have notably smooth gaits, able to move at a steady trot over difficult terrain with minimal bouncing for the rider. They are extremely strong for their size, and fully capable of carrying most adult riders and heavy packs, and pulling plows.

Their hair is longer than average but provides little insulation and they do not grow winter coats, and instead rely predominantly on fat stores to cope with winter conditions. They are easy keepers that can gain and maintain mass with very poor grazing, though most require supplements of grain to their diets to gain sufficient fat stores to survive winters in the highest settled altitudes.

Feydhi can adapt well to the hotter lowlands conditions than other Highlands livestock largely due to this lack of thick hair. Because they require no supplement to their diet to maintain condition, they are very affordable khait and an asset (along with a few other specialized lowlands breeds) during dry seasons, and see wide use throughout Imperial Wardin (particularly as pack animals along trade routes). They often survive a little too well in the lowlands, being adapted to sparse mountain pastures rather than seasonally abundant grasslands, and can be prone to obesity when allowed to graze freely.

They show a small degree of selection for milk production due to the import of dairy to the regional diet of the Highlands. Their milk has the highest fat content of the native livestock, but a notably gamey taste that is generally disfavored. It's used primarily as-is for basic sustenance and medicinal purposes- growing children and pregnant women are encouraged to drink feydhi milk to build fat stores, and mounted herders will often ride lactating mares in the winter and subsist largely upon their milk. Their meat is also the fattiest of any of the regional livestock and (unlike their milk) generally regarded as the best in taste, though their value as riding animals and more expensive upkeep prevents their consumption on any regular basis.

Rendered, chilled feydhi fat mashed with berries and eaten on bread is a seasonal delicacy eaten at midwinter feasts. It is considered an obligation of a wealthy ruling clan to slaughter some of their khait and provide the fat for this meal to their dependents, and an indication of failing wealth and authority if they cannot. A phrase translating as 'rich in cattle, poor in fat' invokes the notion of having a clan having superficial wealth (in cattle, which can largely sustain themselves on poor grazing and thus can hide a loss of material power for a period) but a heavily insecure position (unable to actually afford to lose their more high maintenance assets), and is used colloquially to describe a person or people giving hollow performances to mask lacking or lost substance.

They have some unique behavioral quirks among khait, such as a propensity to use their lower teeth in allogrooming to rake and scratch each other. This favoring of their teeth also lends more aggressive animals to biting (in addition to the far more khait-typical headbutting and kicking), a behavior that seems reserved exclusively for humans and is rarely used in intraspecies conflict. As with all bovidae, they no upper incisors and their bite can only do so much harm in most circumstances, but they can cause significant damage to the fingers of the unwary. They are also known for their tendency to consume bite-sized animals such as small birds when given the opportunity- this is not atypical of khait (or many grazing herbivores at large), but is emphasized in combination with their tendency to bite to cast them as uniquely carnivorous.

Their temperaments are regarded as notably stubborn and somewhat testy, but this is made up for with their intelligence and generally calm demeanor. Feydhi are most prized for their bravery- they do not spook easily against wild predators and can perform some functions as livestock guardians, readily chasing off small threats and known to stand their ground against even large predators, particularly hyena (the most populous and routinely threatening predator in the region).

This trait is commonly noted in folktales- one western mountain pass is said to be haunted by the ghost of an old gray mare who stood guard over her master (a noted drunk, who had fallen off her back and passed out) against a pack of hyenas for an entire night. When her rider awoke the next day, he found her dead and bloodied with her horns stuck into a hyena's side, having killed the predators but succumbed to her own wounds. He was so sorrowful that he resolved to never drink again (outside of holidays, and perhaps weddings) and buried her under stone. Travelers through this pass customarily pour out liquor and leave little offerings of grain for the animal's spirit, which is said to be seen at night from a distance, standing vigilant atop its cairn, but vanishes when approached.

The settlement cycle stories of the Hill Tribes go into extensive detail about the cattle and horses brought overseas with the migrants, but elaborate little on their khait and imply that a riding culture did not exist during the settlement period. The stories tend to describe people as walking on foot or riding their cattle, and khait riding is only mentioned in descriptions of proto-Wardi mounted nomads in the lowlands. It is likely that khait riding (rather than sole use as pack animals) was an adopted practice post-settlement, and possible that khait were not brought along with the migrants to begin with.

The actual origins of the feydhi breed are ambiguous as such. Old Ephenni folklore mentions tiny 'fairy' khait living in the Highlands that predated the arrival of the Hill Tribes, suggesting that these animals were already established as feral herds. It's highly possible that these herds were are a relic of the cairn-building civilization that existed in the Highlands prior to recorded history and had already long vanished (likely in a combination of plague and dispersal) prior to the settlement. The stories of feydhi being hybrids between foreign khait and native deer is also suggestive of such an origin, with wild deer as ancestors being a mythologized twist on feral khait.

Feydhi do not have the same status of cattle or horses as fundamental to subsistence, with much of their use being in utility as pack animals and transport over difficult terrain. However, they play very significant roles in the livestock raiding aspects of warrior culture, where they are used for quick exits and to help drive cattle and horses. Their roles in other aspects of warrior culture are more varied between tribes- some use them near-exclusively for raids, while others rely on them for open combat. Khait warrior culture is most central in the western Urbinnas tribes, who each consider themselves to be the most skilled riders and uniquely specialize towards mounted archery. The Urbinnas tribes have a long history of interaction with the lowlands Ephenni Wardi (alternating cycles of conflict and trade, and a half century of allyship against Imperial Burri occupiers). Both groups have a strong history of mounted warrior culture, and each claims to have introduced mounted archery to the other.

Khait also play roles in regional combat sports, which include mock battles and raids, races, archery, and most famously khait wrestling. The latter involves two mounted riders attempting to wrestle one another off their khait, gain control of their opponent's mount, and then successfully lead both animals out of the ring without their opponent re-mounting. This sport requires very calm, collected animals that will not panic while being fought over, and the measured temperament of the feydhi is well suited.

#The Wardi Highlands are not analogous to Iceland At All but having just spent a week surrounded by an awesome small cold #adapted horse landrace breed it was time to like actually flesh these guys out #creatures #hill tribes

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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago

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The Surucuá community in the state of Pará is the first to receive an Amazonian Creative Laboratory, a compact mobile biofactory designed to help kick-start the Amazon’s bioeconomy.

Instead of simply harvesting forest-grown crops, traditional communities in the Amazon Rainforest can use the biofactories to process, package and sell bean-to-bar chocolate and similar products at premium prices.

Having a livelihood coming directly from the forest encourages communities to stay there and protect it rather than engaging in harmful economic activities in the Amazon.

The project is in its early stages, but it demonstrates what the Amazon’s bioeconomy could look like: an economic engine that experts estimate could generate at least $8 billion per year.

In a tent in the Surucuá community in the Brazilian Amazonian state of Pará, Jhanne Franco teaches 15 local adults how to make chocolate from scratch using small-scale machines instead of grinding the cacao beans by hand. As a chocolatier from another Amazonian state, Rondônia, Franco isn’t just an expert in cocoa production, but proof that the bean-to-bar concept can work in the Amazon Rainforest.

“[Here] is where we develop students’ ideas,” she says, gesturing to the classroom set up in a clearing in the world’s greatest rainforest. “I’m not here to give them a prescription. I want to teach them why things happen in chocolate making, so they can create their own recipes,” Franco tells Mongabay.

The training program is part of a concept developed by the nonprofit Amazônia 4.0 Institute, designed to protect the Amazon Rainforest. It was conceived in 2017 when two Brazilian scientists, brothers Carlos and Ismael Nobre, started thinking of ways to prevent the Amazon from reaching its impending “tipping point,” when deforestation turns the rainforest into a dry savanna.

Their solution is to build a decentralized bioeconomy rather than seeing the Amazon as a commodity provider for industries elsewhere. Investments would be made in sustainable, forest-grown crops such as cacao, cupuaçu and açaí, rather than cattle and soy, for which vast swaths of the forest have already been cleared. The profits would stay within local communities.

A study by the World Resources Institute (WRI) and the New Climate Economy, published in June 2023, analyzed 13 primary products from the Amazon, including cacao and cupuaçu, and concluded that even this small sample of products could grow the bioeconomy’s GDP by at least $8 billion per year.

To add value to these forest-grown raw materials requires some industrialization, leading to the creation of the Amazonian Creative Laboratories (LCA). These are compact, mobile and sustainable biofactories that incorporate industrial automation and artificial intelligence into the chocolate production process, allowing traditional communities to not only harvest crops, but also process, package and sell the finished products at premium prices.

The logic is simple: without an attractive income, people may be forced to sell or use their land for cattle ranching, soy plantations, or mining. On the other hand, if they can make a living from the forest, they have an incentive to stay there and protect it, becoming the Amazon’s guardians.

“The idea is to translate this biological and cultural wealth into economic activity that’s not exploitative or harmful,” Ismael Nobre tells Mongabay."

-via Mongabay News, January 2, 2024

#amazon #amazon rainforest #rainforest #chocolate #sustainability #ethical food #brazil #natural resources #good news #hope

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borngeniusworld · 2 years ago

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The Science behind Positive Body Language

Body language is a powerful tool that transcends spoken words, playing a significant role in how we are perceived by others and how we perceive ourselves. It goes beyond mere gestures and postures; it impacts our neurochemistry and influences our emotions, mindset, and even our hormonal balance. Neurotransmitters and Body Language Science behind positive body language Studies have unveiled the…

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androm3da868 · 2 months ago

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I really love your insights on Jyeshtha nakshatra & I was wondering what your thoughts were on Jyestha ascendant, because I don't find myself relating to the 'amassing wealth, fame and power' aspect of this nakshatra (at least not materially, spiritually is a different story) that frequently gets discussed

I recall you once spoke about the hyper-independence of Jyestha and how these natives essentially need to figure out how to do things from scratch. I would love if you could elaborate on that or share any other observations/insights you might have regarding this nakshatra and an ascendant placement here

HI!!! Omg I appreciate that, I love your insights too!!! So intuitive and always push me to research and expand my understanding on naks. I love following you!

This is really long so please bear with me but when I studied this nak it made me grow such great empathy and respect for them.

For me, the ascendant represents the life path. In the case of Jyestha rising, it’s not so much a material path as it is a deeply spiritual one. Their journey involves confronting and ultimately releasing the mindset they grew up with—almost like holding a funeral for the old self—so they can fully step into the higher calling symbolized by the Leo Midheaven.

The life of a Jyestha ascendant is one of liberation. The first half of their life is often spent trying to break free from the environment they were born into—especially if that environment was stifling or neglectful. The second half is about liberating themselves from the inner compulsion to constantly prove their worth. That’s why Jyestha can sometimes reflect Leo-like qualities: they develop this powerful public persona, one that radiates resilience, presence, and inner strength. The world sees them as indestructible. But if they haven’t done the inner healing work, the pain rooted in their 4th house—often associated with Saturn’s influence—can still haunt them.

This Saturnian 4th house can manifest as internalized beliefs shaped by caregivers who told them, directly or indirectly, that they weren’t strong enough, creative enough, or capable enough to rise above their circumstances. Even if they reach massive success, those narratives can linger. For Jyestha, the real battle isn’t “rags to riches”—they often accomplish that with shocking ease. The deeper struggle is the need to keep proving themselves over and over. There’s always another mountain, another enemy, another challenge, because the real fight is within: the fear of not being enough.

That’s why I sometimes I think Kanye West has a Jyestha placement because the energy is this intense narrative of “they still want me to fail. I’m not a kid!” But often, it’s not “they”—it’s the trauma itself. The intrusive thoughts of I’m not strong enough, I’m not good enough, the desperate need to be better, better, better—just to prove to the public and to themselves that nothing can break them.

While Jyestha can achieve tremendous success, they may just as easily lose it if they haven’t cultivated the inner peace to say: I am enough. I am more than my wealth. I am more than my trauma. I don’t need to keep fighting. Without this peace, they can begin to perceive threats everywhere—even where none exist—because they’re conditioned to stay on high alert, ready to defend what they’ve built. And what they’ve built isn’t just material wealth—it’s a throne, a legacy forged entirely by their own hands. Nothing was handed to them; they had to prove their worth from the ground up, echoing the energy of the Leo Midheaven opposed the Aquarius 4th house.

That’s the turning point—and it’s not an easy one. Getting Jyestha (and even Ashlesha) out of the “I must always struggle” mindset is difficult, because the fight has been their entire identity. But in truth, their most important battle is between their wounded self and their higher self.

That’s why it’s so powerful for Jyestha natives to build things from scratch. They need to see their progress and record that progress over time—especially when it comes to shadow work via scripting or rewriting their history LITERALLY. Watching themselves evolve, watching their efforts pay off—that’s what builds their confidence especially if they do it in secret away from the public eye. That’s what helps them transform. Their success may come easy and quickly through their vigorous work ethic, but it’s important for them to focus more on their old habits and mindsets finally falling away once they recognize their intrinsic value, not just the performance of strength.

Ultimately, the fight isn’t external. It’s a spiritual war within the psyche. Jyeshtha often carries a Saturn-influenced 4th house, and with Aquarius energy there, they may have experienced betrayals by father figures or close male relationships that continued to put them in a insubordinate or “little boy/girl” position,blocking them from opportunities. These betrayals, paired with the emotional neglect via words and beliefs, can leave deep wounds that influence how they view power, trust, and self-worth.

But when they stop needing to grind to feel valuable—when they allow rest, healing, and spiritual integration—that’s when Jyestha ascendants begin to embody the true essence of their path: not as warriors in constant battle, but as wise elders who have mastered themselves.

Honestly, I think this is the true mastery of Scorpio. Vishaka is the sudden storm—chaotic, violent, and shocking. It represents the moment the Scorpio is caught off guard, taking a devastating hit they never saw coming, the ultimate Tower moment. Then comes Anuradha, the witness. The one who says, Never again.This is the stage of learning boundaries, loyalty, and devotion—but also developing a quiet strength, shaped by pain and may even hold onto that pain so they can never forget, the reverse tower moment. By the time we reach Jyestha, there’s a transformation: instead of just reacting to chaos, they become the chaos. They create the storm on their own terms, using it as a defense mechanism to prevent another Vishaka moment. It’s a form of preemptive power—controlling what hurt them so it can never catch them off guard again.

But for Jyestha ascendants, there’s a crucial point of healing—and it lies in the 2nd house of Mula. Mula energy is about uprooting, cutting to the core, and destroying those false foundations of worth and value. In the 2nd house, it demands a deep excavation of self-worth and survival instincts. Jyeshtha ascendants must confront the painful roots of how they define value—especially their own.

Mula in the 2nd house reminds them: your worth is not just in what you build or your abundance of things. It is already embedded in you. Yes, you created your empire, but the abundance was already yours—it was owed to you, divinely planted there through the pain you endured, especially in childhood. You do not need to constantly prove you are worthy of having it. You do not need to tear yourself apart, creating more chaos to have the excuse to rebuild again and again just to feel deserving.

This placement challenges Jyestha to stop questioning their intrinsic value. It pushes them to understand that their voice, their talents, their legacy—they are not up for debate and never were. The healing comes not through domination or survival alone, wasting your energy but through a kind of surrender: accepting that worthiness is not something earned through pain, but something reclaimed after it.

#jyeshtha #jyeshta #sidereal scorpio #ashlesha #jyestha #Jyestha ascendant #vedic astrology #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes

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stellarfics · 9 months ago

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𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐥𝐲 [𝐜𝐡𝐩. 1]

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: dark!ransom drysdale x innocent!reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, rape/non-con, drugging/date-raping, somnophilia, dom/sub undertones, degrading, oral sex (male receiving), virginity kink, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, choking, size difference, heavy misogyny, heavy angst, extreme physical violence (mentions of blood), extremely dark themes, 18+ minors dni!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you let your friends drag you out for a night, which turns into a living nightmare because of one person; Ransom Drysdale.

You look at your reflection in the mirror, it’s almost as if a stranger is gazing back at you. You look—different, good. You’re living and out of body experience, wearing the unusual skimpy outfit you’ve got on; a silk red dress hugging at your curves, makeup done to perfection, hair pinned up in a soft, angelic, loose bun.

You slowly drag your tongue along your bottom lip, feeling the buttery, slick texture of the red gloss laying across your lip, the taste of the plain, sticky substance odd on your tastebuds. Your tiny dorm echoes with a sharp rap against the rattling wood door, a signal that Daisy is waiting outside.

You sigh and give yourself one last glance as you grab your clutch, stopping at the door, eyeing your ratted-down coat, the left sleeve practically falling off at the shoulder, the seams frayed to no revival. You open your door and see the redhead beaming at you.

“Oh my god! You look amazing! Oh, I knew red would be your color.”

You blush at the reminder of the embarrassing conversation the pair of you had in a bustling, expensive store at the Boulevard Mall the week before. You swear you almost died when you saw the price tag.

“Ah, forget about it, I’ll put it on Daddy’s credit card. He won’t mind.” Daisy would say, twirling her hair around, without a care in the world.

To say she’d been born spoon-fed off a silver platter would be an understatement. Her parents were among the most wealthy in the country, god, maybe even the world.

They rubbed elbows with the rich, neck high in gold coins. You didn’t need her to tell you about her wealth, her Rolls Royce spoke for her, a shimmering silver-plated car her father had bought her at the beginning of the semester. You guess her Audi wasn’t cutting it.

You are practically tugged down to the elevator, all the way to her car. She opens the door and shoves you in, squealing in delight as she floors it to the club.

You weren’t raised in a mansion on Beacon Hill, hell you weren’t even the occasional litter on the sidewalks. You were a quiet, city girl, grinding your elbows in soap, helping your mother clean houses since you were five.

The whole nine yards were already planned out in your head since you were 10. You’d focus on your studies, push your way to the top, building up from scraps, from scratch.

But life isn’t like a dream. It never is.

The pair of you pull up to the club, the valet taking the keys from Daisy’s manicured hand. She links elbows with you, laughing like she’s already drunk, babbling about the off-fielder who’d won Crimson their last game. How, in her words, fucking massive his cock was. Swearing she almost died giving him head last week after the game.

The two of you push through the sweaty cluster of bodies and up to the bar. You hold Daisy up as she drunkenly orders a plate of shots. You sigh and drag your group to a table in the back corner.

They down the entire plate, leaving you a single shot. Your girls hook each other into their elbows and swing their hips into the crowd. You sigh and watch as the night unfolds. Two hours pass by in a flash and your single shot is slowly collecting water droplets over its glass in front of you.

You check your phone, the screen blinding you as it reads 1:28 am. You sigh and stand up, pushing your way through the swaying crowd. You make your way to Daisy, who’s practically going at it with some guy.

You clear your throat and groan before you tap her on the shoulder. She swats your hand away before you try again. She turns around, heat in her eyes.

“What the fuck—oh, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” She asks, pushing the guy away from her. He grabs at her hips and tries to reel her back to him.

She shoves him away and grabs your wrist, pulling you to the back of the club, and into the bustling bathroom. The door swings open and it’s literal hell; you’re smacked in the face with the greatest cloud of weed mixed with vape smoke you’d ever imagined.

You cough and turn to the counter, girls and doing lines, snorting them through a wrinkled five-dollar bill. You stare for too long, if the way they turn to you with disgusted eyes says anything.

Daisy takes you into a stall, and pats your face with some powder, and fixes your lipstick.

“Maybe, I should go home…” You mumble as Daisy wipes excess lipstick from the corner of your mouth.

“What? No. We just got here.”

“Daisy, this isn’t my thing.” You grimace and she sighs.

“Hey, the night isn’t totally ruined. You could still end up waking in someone’s bed.” She says in a sing-song voice.

“I hope it’s only my own.” You groan, rubbing at your forehead. You give Daisy the saddest, tired eyes you can muster and she sighs.

“Alright, we can go.” She says, nodding.

You shake your head. “Stay, you’ve got your floor partner out there waiting for you. I can make it home. I promise I’ll be okay.”

She nods and grabs your hand, dragging you out of the bathroom. “Be safe, this side of the city isn’t safe to be walking. I can set you up with an Uber.”

“I’m okay. I promise, Daisy. I’ll see you in the morning.” You take her into a tight hug and she pats your hair down.

“I’m serious. Be safe.”

“Always.” You smile.

You sigh and walk out of the club, the Halloween chill has you shaking in your heels, wishing you’d brought your coat. You pull your phone out of your clutch and try the power button, only to find it dead. You think about going back into the club, groaning as you imagine pestering Daisy for a ride home.

Damn.

You groan, running a hand through your hair, spotting, from your peripheral vision, a group of men kicking around bottles at the end of the street. Conspiring against your prayers, whatever god lives above reels them towards you. They drunkenly try to sweet-talk you, reaching a hand out to grab the end of your dress.

Your heart thuds against your chest and your body heats up, anxiety rattling in your bones. Your hands shake against your thighs and you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself.

It’s all to no avail.

“Are you all alone, honey?” One asks, most likely the ring leaders.

“No, a friend’s inside. She’s ordering us a cab.” You turn away from them, looking toward the club. A few frat boys come out, drunkenly laughing at themselves, and look you up and down.

You’re a slab of meat, a fresh sirloin steak, thrown in the middle of a street filled with strays, foaming at the mouth, claws digging into the gravel beneath you.

You find yourself slowly cornered into the street, before falling back on your palms. You find yourself being surrounded by both groups of men. The screech of tires being locked by breaks echoes through the night air, as you’re blinded by headlights. You turn your head to find yourself a foot away from the bumper of a car.

You swallow the thick lump in the bottom of your throat and move from the car.

The driver steps out, a silhouette, really—tall and broad, shoulders square, shoes shining as he stalks towards the front of the car. You drag your eyes up his body, catching the way his arms swell under the unearthly soft-looking material of a white, cable knit sweater, perfectly hidden by the overcoat he’s sporting.

You turn to the group of men, tails between their legs as they look at one another and scramble away. You’re left alone with the silhouette, he speaks to you, voice drowned by the whizzing cars and natural night noise.

“Are you okay?” He asks, voice gruff and tired as he stalks closer to you.

You blink rapidly and quickly nod your head. You scramble onto your palms and shakily stand up. You move back a little as he simply stares at you.

“What were you doing out here alone?”

“I just—” You fix your dress, crossing your arms over yourself. “I was going home. This isn’t really my crowd.”

Ransom looks you up and down, and turns to the bar.

“Who took you there? It’s a scrub-hole.” He grunts, standing a little straighter.

“My…friend.”

“Some friend. Especially if she left you out here on your own.” He steps closer to you, staggering a little as the street lights finally shine upon him. The light scent of alcohol rolls with his words into the night air.

The yellow flickering lights illuminate him in a golden halo. It accentuates his broadness even more, creating the perfect shadows over his arms and chest; it paints him almost herculean.

Your eyes widen as he tilts his head a little, looking at your palm. You raise your hand up and look at the red filling the lines of your palm. You look at the ground and wipe off the blood and pavement residue off your hand.

“I’m Ransom, do you know your name?” He asks, looking at you, trying to see if you’re okay.

You just keep staring at him and he chuckles.

“Why don’t I take you home? Make sure you’re safe for the night?” He asks.

You look up at him, noticing just how much closer he’s gotten to you, and blink up at him from beneath your lashes. You feel your chest tightening as anxiety fills your veins.

“O-Okay.” You nod, taking Ransom’s offered hand and letting him lead you to his car. The hand on the small of your back burns through your dress. You feel his palm against your skin even when he lifts it, closing the door for you once you're settled.

He rounds the car, sitting in the driver's seat as he starts the car again. The engine revs to life as he slowly pulls forward, turning over to look at you. You simply stare at your heels and blink; the scenario slowly creeping up on you.

You turn to Ransom and look back out to the street. You watch as the car whizzes through the empty streets. Your eyes trail with street lights and dimmed buildings.

The car speeds into the merging lane of the highway—which goes to the opposite side of the city. You sit up a little, looking out towards the empty interstate.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to say I-I live at the dorms, the ones by the—”

“We’re going to my house.” He says, not even offering you a glance.

The prickling heat of anxiety bites at the back of your neck. You try to keep your composure as you look around at the slowly growing street.

He continues on the freeway, down till it becomes a one-lane road. It leads out onto a snow-covered street, which is lined with bare trees that break into a deep meadow.

The snow is illuminated a bright white as you grow closer to the house. The car's light shines upon a mansion—a literal mansion.

He circles into the driveway, parks the car, and steps out. He goes up to the door and unlocks it, stepping in. He leaves it open for you, not turning back to see if you walk in.

You swallow down your awe as you take a shaky step out of the car. You hear the click of your heels against the polished, marble steps of the house. Which looks like something out of a magazine, a Wright design come to life.

The windows go from roof to floor, illuminating the house with cool moonlight. The glass exterior is shimmering.

You gently push open the door and step inside, the warmth hitting you too quickly, burning your skin in contrast to the cold outside.

You take a deep breath and look around the foyer. It leads into the grand living room. A stone wall covers the foyer of the house. A large L-shaped couch covered in a disheveled blanket calls home there. A stunning fireplace has been left burning, and a small cartridge of graham crackers and marshmallows is left beside it.

It’s beautiful, breathtaking.

Ransom comes back, two glasses of scotch in his hands.

“Oh, no thank you. I don’t really drink...” You say, waving a small hand in front of you.

“Now, that’s no way to treat someone who’s accommodating for you. Drink it.” He practically shoves the drink into your hands.

You look down at the glass and up at him.

“Drink it.”

You shiver under Ransom’s gaze and hesitantly take a sip. He nods and takes one from his own. He grabs your wrist and leads you back to the couch.

Sitting first and pulling you into his lap. You stiffen as you land over his thighs. He lays a hand between your own, close to your knee; drawing circles into your skin.

You aren’t sure what to do, frozen, stoic as you attempt to wrangle a thought. He seemingly reads your mind, humming softly, and brings a hand up to your hair.

He brushes it over your shoulder, playing with the ends. He looks at you with dark eyes and then turns to your cup.

“Drink.”

As if in a trance, you take the glass to your lips, slugging back a few drops. You hold it in your mouth, and let it burn your tongue before it slides down your throat and settles into your stomach.

He shakes his head and holds the glass for you.

“Such a silly little girl, take a little more.” He hums, voice laced with malice.

He takes your glass, tips it against your lips, and gently tips it back a little more. You groan and take the rest of the drink. You hold it in your mouth and whimper, squirming around.

“Swallow.”

You comply and take the burning liquid back; immediately coughing once you can get a deep breath of air.

He shushes you and pats your back a little, condescendingly cooing you. You cough and heave, attempting to stand up.

“No, no, hey, shh. It’s okay.” Ransom hums. “Breathe through your nose.”

He coaxes you through taking a deep breath. You follow his direction and hiccup on a breath. He nods you along and rubs a hand over your back.

“That’s it. Good girl.”

You end your coughing fit with a whine. You twist around in Ransom’s lap, face scrunched up in disgust. He simply chuckles, takes your glass, and sets it on the side table.

He rubs at your back and hums softly, looking at you. You whine and shake like a leaf in his lap. Ransom sighs and shushes you, petting your hair back.

“It’s alright, shh. Quiet now. You’re alright.” He shushes you.

You sniffle a little and he shushes you, brushing your hair a little more. You whimper and Ransom grabs your head, fingers drifting down to your chin.

“It’s okay, sweet thing.” He cooes, voice oddly soft and you whimper. He pets your hair back, looking at you. He holds your chin and brushes his thumb against your bottom lip.

“You’re so obedient, honey.” He mumbles, grinning softly.

Your stomach floors as your eyes widen like saucers. You feel your diaphragm quivering at the force of your muscles clenching against each other.

You swallow thickly, eyes flicking between Ransom’s and he tilts his head a little, feigning innocence. He catches the way you soften in his arms.

He nods and you sigh, melting in his arms. You feel your body go slack and Ransom drapes you over his arm. You whimper softly, eyes drooping as Ransom hums softly.

It’s a song you’ve known as a child, one your mother used to sing—as she’d tuck you into bed. You feel Ransom’s hand card through your curls, scratching lightly at your scalp.

You slump a little in his arms and Ransom just looks down at you. He knows what he brought you here for. He knows it’s just a matter of time before the sedative he mixed into your drink kicks in.

Only a few minutes before you’re pliable in his arms. At his will to do whatever he wants with you.

Only a few minutes that he can wait for.

He runs his fingers up the inside of your calf, following along the soft lines of your muscle. You lift your head, eyes unfocused as Ransom looks at you, eyes dark.

You move your leg from his hand, trying to scoot away from him. He shushes you, taking your cheek into his hand. He brushes his thumb over your skin.

“You’re so pretty.” He smiles, toothy and wide.

You blink a few times and Ransom brings you closer. Looking at your lips. You feel your heart thud in your chest, hear the echo in your ears; feel its heat under your skin as your cheeks burn.

“You’re so pretty.” Ransom says again, thumb running along your bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks.

You can’t seem to swallow fast enough, recoil your legs to your chest, and curl into yourself. Ransom shushes you, bringing you closer to his chest.

“It’s just kissing, honey.” He says, crushing his lips to your own. You whimper and push a hand against his chest. His hard, rock-like, unmoving chest.

He takes your wrist, pinning it to your side, and kisses you; you grimace and squirm in his hold. Your eyes squeeze shut as you whimper softly.

“Stop.” You squeak, voice barely above a whisper.

Ransom breaks away, taking in a deep breath before nuzzling against your neck. Running his fingers along the soft skin of your calf.

“Just kissing, sweetheart.” He says, burrowing his face in your neck; sucking and biting at the soft skin there.

You keen softly and scrunch your shoulder, pushing at his chest again. The action is futile. You lay there in his arms, shocked to feel his lips oddly soft against your own.

You whine and he pulls back, blue eyes opening and drowning you. You tentatively wipe at your lips and his lips curl up with a chuckle.

He looks at you like that for a while, with dark, heavy eyes. He runs his hand against your thigh and you whimper, shifting away from him.

“No. You can’t hide from me.” He says, voice hard like nails and he grabs your jaw in a rather tight grip. It makes your blood freeze.

The daunting size difference between the two of you. Even now, in his lap, you barely reach his chest. The size of his palm is well over encasing your entire face. The thickness of his arms—which are circled around you in an extremely tight fashion—are such a distinct size to your waist.

The absolute strength they hold makes you shake; knowing Ransom could very well, literally throw you across the room at his command.

Your eyes widen as you look over the shadow of Ransom’s palm. You push at his forearm and he only tightens his hold, pressing your cheeks against your teeth.

You whimper and he pulls back. He gentles his touch again, thumbing your cheek and you swallow, eyes swimming with fear.

You take a few shaky breaths and shoot your gaze between Ransom’s eyes. He leans up again, stealing another kiss from you. He grabs you and rolls you over; laying over your body on the couch.

You bring your hands to his shoulders, pushing him back a bit. He nudges your legs apart, fitting himself between your thighs.

“Wait—stop.”

“We’re just kissing.” He says, going back to your neck, nipping at the skin there.

You shake your head, pushing at him to move. You bring your feet against his stomach, nudging him back.

“Stop. Please.” You whimper, voice squeaky and uneven. Your vision begins to blur and you’re unsure if it's from the tears welling in your eyes or not.

He simply groans in your ear, laying flat against you; rutting his long-forgotten, massive, hard-on against you. You whimper and stiffen under him.

“Stop, please. Stop.” You beg, on the verge of tears.

“Just kissing.” He says, lifting his head up.

He kneels back, looking down at you with dark eyes. You cower further back into the couch, closing your legs and bringing your arms over your chest, covering yourself as much as you can. Ransom brings a hand between your thighs, pushing them apart.

You reach down for his hand, vision melting and arms becoming weak as you grab his forearm. He shushes you, petting your hair back and cupping your cheek.

“That’s it. Don’t fight it, sweetheart. Such an obedient girl.” He cooes, eyes dark and grinning like a devil.

Your eyes slip closed and you make a soft little noise in the back of your throat.

Ransom nearly feels guilty, taking a sweet thing like you this way. He knows he’ll hurt you, definitely more than you can take, judging solely on how small you are. He practically cages you against his body on the couch.

He sighs and stands up, hauling you over his shoulder, and walks through the first floor, up the stairs. He makes his way through the upstairs to his bedroom, laying you across the bed. He sighs and grabs your ankle, pulling you to the edge of the bed.

It makes your dress ride up over your thighs. He smirks and runs a hand along the inside of your thigh, finding the soft, squishy, skin there perfect. He hums and pulls his hand back, he pushes your dress over your thighs up to your stomach.

He smirks at the soft, red silk panties you wear. The way they hug you perfectly, he’s almost saddened when he tears them in half. You whine and bring your legs closed, he admires the way that, even when you’re drugged, you keep your modesty.

He shushes you, petting a hand along your hair, and stands again. He pulls your dress down your chest, baring your tits to him.

He groans at the way they jiggle; their weight feeling perfect in his hands. He thumbs your nipples, the pink flesh growing into a hardened bud that he tugs and teases, loving the soft sounds the movement pulls from your throat.

He grunts and brings his hand between your legs. He runs his fingers against the soft, moist skin there, he feels his chest swell with the predatorial pride that he’s made you wet.

He lifts his hand, raking his fingers against your skin to the point goosebumps rise on your thighs. He teasingly brushes his thumb against your clit, grinning at the way you twitch; closing your legs, trapping his hand again.

He rubs his thumb against your nub a little harder, pressing your thigh into the mattress. It’s what wakes you up.

You blink drowsiness from your eyes, looking around the room and feeling something at your thighs—between your thighs. You whimper and rise up on your elbows, blood freezing as you see Ransom standing between your legs. Your lips part and Ransom’s on you like a flash.

He pins you under him, one hand covering your mouth, the other holding your head to his palm.

“Don’t scream.” He says, voice sinister.

You whine as tears well in your eyes.

“Gonna be a good girl? Gonna be quiet for me?” He whispers, staring at you with intent eyes.

You hiccup beneath his hand and you squeeze your eyes shut. He slowly pulls back his hand, running his fingers over your hair.

“Such an obedient girl. If you're good for me, I’ll make it sweet for you. Okay?” He cooes, voice lined with poison.

You simply take in the little breath your lungs hold and he smirks. He runs his hand down your neck, over your side, brushing along your tit to cup its weight in his hand. He brushes his thumb against your nipple and squirm under him; face burning red.

You bite back a whine, veins in your neck straining with fear. He tweaks your bud between his fingers, tugging at your nipple and you cry out; squeezing your eyes shut and turning away from him.

Your hands come up for a moment, going to push at his shoulders before staying stoic in the air. He grabs your wrists, coils them in a single hand, and pins them above your head on the mattress.

“Keep them there, if they move, I’ll hit you.”

He brings his hand back to your tit, slapping it and smirking at the way it moves against your ribs. You whimper, turning your head into your own arm and covering your face.

“Don’t hide from me.” He growls, grabbing your jaw and twisting your head back to him.

Your eyes are squeezed shut and you’re shaking under him; your body is so tense, that your muscles are beginning to ache. Pain radiates off your body, skin goes cold. He taps his fingers against your cheek and you whine, flinching under his hand.

“Look at me. Look at me.”

You slowly open your eyes, tears run down your cheeks and fill your ears as your bottom lip quivers. He runs his hand down your side again, and you twist away from him. He tightens the grip on your jaw and shakes his head.

“Don’t move.”

He lets go of your jaw, snaking down your body, laying against your stomach. He leans down, pressing a single kiss to the center of your chest, before he turns his head and takes a nipple into his mouth.

You cry out, stomach and chest caving into the bed. You turn away from him, shooting your arms down, pushing at his head and he leans up, turning your head back to him only for him to strike his palm against your cheek.

Fast, sharp, and hard.

The noise of skin hitting skin echoes throughout the second floor of the house. You can’t hide the soft squeak that escapes your lips and you bite your lip, hiccuping softly as you stare up at him. Your vision is muddled by your tears as you see him go back down—you feel his lips around your tit, tongue pressing against your nipple.

You twist against him and he simply lays a hand over your stomach, pinning you to the bed. He sucks and bites at the skin of your chest, grunting as he ruts himself against your thigh.

The tears that have been beads now become full rivers. You hiccup as you try to subtly move away from him. He frees your tit with a soft wet ‘pop’ and sits over your thighs.

He looks down at you, eyes dark as he grabs your wrists, grips tight, and seethes.

“I said not to move.”

You take a shaky breath and nod, chest rising and falling far too fast for your heart to handle.

He grabs for the hem of his sweater, pulling it over his head and dropping it to the bed with a soft thud. Your jaw goes a little slack as you stare up at his body; the one carved like a porcelain Greek god.

Eyes dark like unruly oceans, nose swooping down to a perfect tip, lips plump and soft, like luscious pillows, jaw strong and hard. His arms which are practically logs, veins running under their skin beautifully, the muscles flex and shadow against the light of the lamp on his bedside table.

They lead down to his chest, burly and hard, covered with a light spruce of hair over his pecs. It leads down to his abs, which are hard and have veins crawling up his sides, melting into his skin, his v-line is impeccable as it gives just that much before leaving the rest for imagination.

He looks down at you, cups your cheek, brushing away the tears that stray, and growls at the way you flinch from his palm.

He tangles his hand into the back of your head and brings you up to steal a kiss from your lips. It’s owning and hard, possessive and hot.

He swipes his tongue against your bottom lip and you gasp, lips parting. He licks into your mouth, you can taste the bourbon he’s had earlier on his tongue.

It makes you whimper and turn away from him, breaking the kiss.

You hiccup, squeezing your eyes shut, and await the impending blow he’s bound to lay on your cheek. Only it doesn’t come.

The sound of his belt buckle echoes in the room and your eyes crack open. You shoot up and move away from Ransom.

“No, no, please. You can’t.” You beg, voice cracking as you cower over yourself.

He pushes you back, grabbing your arms and pinning them at your side. You kick and push at his chest, scratching over his arms and he hisses.

“Stop! Stop fighting me!” He hits you with a blow to your ribs and you scream out, twisting against him.

You cry and cry, curling onto your side, in a ball. You shake your head and push him away as he tries to grab you.

“Please! Please!” You beg.

Ransom moves off the bed, grabs your ankle, and pulls you to the edge. You thrash against him, legs and arms flailing as you try to escape his grasp.

He grabs you by the hair, pulling your head back with enough force to give you whiplash. You cry out and scream as he covers your mouth with a hand.

“Shut up. Shut up!” He strikes your cheek again.

You push your hands against his chest and hiccup. He leans in close and growls, eyes dark and you whimper.

“Please, you can do anything—anything but…that.” You hiccup, tears muddling your vision.

Ransom looks at you and takes in your words. He takes in the way you look, afraid and shaking; a scared little girl and he lets out a soft breath.

“You’re a virgin.”

Your blood freezes and you stare at him, a deer in headlights. You look between his eyes and your bottom lip quivers.

You stare at him as he brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing your skin with his thumb.

“If you’re good, I’ll be gentle.”

“No, please. Please. Please!”

You cry out, your heartbeat kicking up as he moves off the bed. He pulls his belt free and kicks off his slacks, along with his briefs, grabbing you by the back of your neck and dragging you over to him.

He pins you under him, holding your head up and smacking his cock against your cheek. You whimper and whine, turning away from him.

“Open your mouth.” He groans.

He pushes his cock against your lips and you cry out, thrashing against him. He pushes at the hinges of your jaw and your mouth falls open.

He pushes himself between your lips and you scrape your teeth against his cock.

“Open your mouth. Open your mouth!” He hisses. “Don’t fucking bite me or I’ll beat you dead.”

You spit up over it, coughing and pushing at his thighs. He groans, hand encasing your neck as he forces himself down your throat.

He grins at the way you cough and choke over his cock, slapping at his thighs. He pushes deeper, bringing your head up till your nose brushes against his sac.

You feel lightheaded at the pressure, ears ringing and you push at his thighs. He pulls back, groaning. You cough and rise up to your elbows, gasping for breath.

“That’s it. God your throat is tight. Feel so good around me.” He coos. “Your lips are so pretty around my cock.”

You cough and hiccup, trying to crawl away from him. Ransom simply grabs you by the hair, dragging you back to him. He grabs his cock, pushes it against your lips and down your throat.

He groans at the deep, echoing swallow you make around his dick, spit bubbling up at the edges of your mouth.

Your hands are pushing at his thighs, nails digging into his skin and you whimper. He shushes you, thrusting in and out of your mouth.

“That’s it, breathe through your nose.” He coos, brushing your hair back.

He pulls back, leaving the tip between your lips and you cough.

“Shh, breathe.” Is all he says before he thrusts into your throat again. He pats your cheek and hums.

You whine and tears roll down your cheeks. You push your hands at his thighs and he finally pulls back all the way.

“Such a good little throat.” He pats your cheek.

Ransom moves from you and you scramble onto your knees, coughing. You crawl away from him and he sighs, grabbing your ankle and dragging you back to him.

“No. No! Please!” You scream, clawing at the sheets.

He climbs over you, pinning you to the bed, and grabs your cheek.

“Stop, stop it!” He shakes your head back and forth in a near-comical way.

He looks at you, taking in the fear in your eyes, and sighs.

“If you’re good for me, I’ll be good to you.” He says, eyes softening. “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”

You bring your hands to his chest and hiccup, gently pushing him back. He shushes you, petting your hair back, and kneels over your thighs.

You try to move from him, twisting and squirming under him, all to no avail. He splits your thighs apart, pushing one up to your chest, the other to the bed, and spits onto his fingers.

He drags them up against your slit, smirking at the way you’re growing wet. Just like he knew you’d be. You try and fail not to arch into his fingers, closing your legs against his palm.

He grins darkly and gently runs his middle finger through your wetness before gently pushing into you. You cry out, hands shooting down for his forearm. You pant and heave, your body burning a hot red as you try to push his hand out.

Through it all you’ve been whimpering a soft mantra of ‘no’ and ‘please stop’. He curls his finger upwards, stretching you out for him. You whimper and cry, clenching your teeth as he pushes more than you can take.

He adds another finger and you squeal, punching his arm. He lets you; he lets you mark up his arm with crescent moons from your nails, raking lines down his skin. He lets you.

You gasp and curl against him. He pulls his hand back, patting your thigh, and gently nudges you back. You cry out and kick against him and he lets you.

You whimper and hiccup, trying to close your legs as he kneels between them. He spits into his palm, taking himself in hand and giving himself a few jerks.

You hiccup, swiping hastily at the tears in your eyes, and look up at him. Your bottom lip quivers and your face heats up.

“Ransom, please. Please.” You beg.

He pays no mind to your please and pushes your legs further apart, to accommodate his size. He looms over you like a dark cloud and pushes his cock between your folds.

He groans as he grinds against you. You burn a beet red and turn away from him, pushing a hand at his chest. He brings his hands to your sides, fingers digging into the meat of your hips.

He drags the tip of his cock against you, slapping it against your cunt lewdly, before pushing into you.

You scream. It’s cracked and loud, hoarse, and followed by a broken sob as tears stream down your cheeks. He’s far too big for your abused cunt, you truly feel like he’s splitting you apart. Your ears ring and you scream more, on the verge of passing out.

Ransom fully sheathes himself in you, bottoming out, huffing softly. You thrash in his arms, hitting balled fists against his sides and chest. They hold no power to them, weak and brittle.

You overexert yourself, hiccuping and trying to swallow what little breath you’re given, and go back to sobbing. You cry and cry as Ransom simply stays seated in you.

His body is heavy against your stomach. His arms are brute and strong against your waist and his hands are warm against your skin.

He pulls back, looking down, and finds himself spotted with blood. He lifts you a little, to which you cry, and finds specs of blood against his silk, white sheets.

He fixes his hands over your hips and thrusts into you. You go limp under him, falling back into the bed with a hiccup. He thrusts into you with inhuman strength, railing you into the bed.

You stare up at him, vision muddled and spotty from your tears. You hiccup and close your eyes, turning away from him. He grabs your jaw and turns you back, tapping your cheek.

“Look at me. Look at me.” He says. “Look at me when I fuck you.”

You sob and open your eyes, looking up at him. He pants and groans above you, sweat coating his chest. He grunts and licks his thumb, bringing it between your thighs to rub at your clit.

You whimper, shaking under him. You twist away from him and he smirks, rubbing harder. You let out a little squeak before biting your bottom lip and covering your mouth with a palm.

“Oh, you like that?”

You turn away and he grabs your jaw.

“Don’t hide from me.” He growls and you instinctively bring your hands up to cover your head. It enrages him and he punches you in the ribs, the soft squeak you give makes him furious.

He throws a few more punches to your sides as you gasp. He loves seeing the way you try to curl inward after every blow.

He punches you in the stomach this time, hard and you gasp out. Pulling back as he goes to give you another. You’re gasping and panting, in absolute pain and he scoffs.

He pulls out and flips you onto your knees, pushing your back down before sliding back in you. You cough and spit up, arms too weak to hold you.

You gasp and hiccup into his sheets, coughing and wheezing as you try to breathe through your perforated lungs.

He grabs your hips and rams into you, relentless at the pain he’s causing you. He sees the blood pooling around your mouth and lifts your head. He grabs your hair and cranes your neck to him.

Blood covers your bottom lip and he wipes it away. He looks at you and pauses for a split second. You whimper and simply let your eyes close, going limp in his hold.

He drops your head back down, grabs a hold of the back of your neck, and thrusts into you. He grunts and wraps a hand around your throat as he ravages you into the bed.

You sob out, arching against him and he shushes you, kneeling down over your back. He presses himself against you, groaning into your ear.

You whimper at his groans and he smiles, bringing a hand between your legs to rub at your clit. You gasp and try to close your legs, twisting under him.

“Don’t do that.” He says, pushing them apart.

You whine, high and pitchy in your throat and he shushes you. He rubs gentle, teasing circles over your bud and you shiver under him.

You make a soft little noise and he grunts into your ear. You bite your bottom lip, hard enough to draw blood and he shakes his head, tapping your cheek.

“Don’t hide your noises from me.” He teases, “Let me hear you.”

“You know you love this.” He hisses, voice hot and seething against your ear.

You whimper, digging your head into his sheets, gasping against the silk fabric. He grabs your hips again, fucking you into the bed as you cry out.

He settles back on his knees and rams into you, grabbing your neck again. You hiccup and tense under Ransom, as he grinds down against you. It’s not long before he feels the heat biting at the tail of his spine.

It crawls up his back and he groans, laying flatter against you. He brings his arm around your neck, fitting your head into his elbow. You cough out and try to push his arm away.

“You feel so good around me. Such a tight little cunt.” He smirks at the way you whimper, shifting under him.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” He grunts into your ear.

You tense under him, trying to push him off you. You kick your legs back and he grabs your jaw.

“Stop!”

“Please, don’t, you can’t—please!” You beg.

You sob, voice cracking as you heave against him. He tightens his arm around your neck, pinning you under him. You flail under him, trying to push him off as your face begins to turn almost purple-red. You gasp and gurgle as he cuts off your airway.

You smack your hand against his arm, nails digging into his skin. He hisses and slaps your face, bringing his arm even further around your neck. You struggle in his arms and he grunts, pushing down on your back.

You cough out, ears ringing and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. You give out one last squeak before you go limp in his arms.

He sighs and lets your head drop from behind his arm. You drop on the side of his bed and he grunts, rising back up to his knees.

He grabs your hips, bringing you over his thighs, and ruts into you. He feels that heat begin to crawl up his spine again. It curls into his arms and neck, he groans; an animalistic, masculine sound—loud and gruff and he pushes all the way into you.

His cock twitches as he fills you with load after load of his cum. He groans, fingers digging into your hips as he finishes off.

Ransom sighs and shifts back a little, pulling out. He looks down to see blood spotted over his sheets in the mix of your fluids.

He looks up at you and grabs your arm, rolling you onto your back. His eyes instantly are glued to the finger-shaped marks lying on your cheek.

They’re even more prominent with the black, smudged mascara lining them. Your makeup is smeared over your face with your tears creating white lines through it. Your cheeks are red and your eyes are puffed. There’s a small string of blood coating your upper lip, trailing down from your nose.

His eyes trail down the rest of your body, which is littered with more red spots. Your chest rises and falls unevenly, a deep groan coming out of your lips with each exhale.

He looks down at your ribs, the yellowing spots on your skin and he clenches his teeth as he cringes. The thing that truly catches his eye is the softball-sized bruise in the center of your stomach.

The one he’d given you earlier. The noise it’d pulled from you replays in his head. A broken, half-sobbed squeak.

He groans with disgust and grabs a blanket, throwing it over your body.

He stands from the bed, rubs at his eyes, and walks over to the ensuite. He starts up a shower, washes his body down, and gets out. He dries himself off and walks back into the room. He grabs a pair of briefs and steps into them.

He grabs a pair of sweats and looks over at you. He stares at you, the way your chest expands with a broken noise.

He cringes again, goes to the guest room across the hall, and sighs. He rolls onto the bed, flipping back to stare at the door.

The house is dark, the slight hum of the night echoes through his ears and he sighs. He burrows his head in his pillow and wills himself to sleep.

A/N: alright, wow, rewriting this took forever, like well over a few months. i tried so hard to perfect this chapter, and ended up with like 20 drafts of it lol, anyway to the ones who enjoyed, please reblog! (they're greatly appreciated in this household)

ANYWAY, thanks for all the support on AO3, love you all mwah x <3

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale au #chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans smut

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r0-boat · 1 year ago

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🪶 anon here! Can I request dating headcanons for 5 WHB Kings with gn s/o please?

Absolutely! I'm not sure if you want NSFW or not so I'm going to play it safe and keep it SFW

5 WHB Kings date headcanons

Let's see how these demons take you out on a date!

Sfw cut for length

Satan

Satan thinks anything with you alone is a date. Satan is not really a romantic person it's not something he's ever thought about before. Planning romantic dates he would need the help of his subordinates which will gladly help him plan a nice romantic date.

He's wearing a plain white dress shirt and ripped jeans. He gives you a helmet and takes you out on his motorcycle. You hold on to him as he rides out into the country of Gehenna. The two of you got into the wilderness. He knows this trail by heart as if he has been through these woods countless times until he shows you a small creek and a pond. "I found this place I come here to come down."yeah you can see that, deep scratches and some of the trees fully broken but the creek and the pond remained.

He invites you to swim your hesitant because you don't have any swimming clothes. Satan confusion "What? You don't swim naked??? Human's bathe naked. what's the difference?" Then drops the 'nothing I haven't seen' line with a shit eating grin that makes you want to smack him. the two of you, strip off your clothes and go skinny dipping, something he suggested. If you are worried about the local hell wildlife with a toothy grin, he assures you that he'll protect you.

You spend the day frolicking in the forest and playing in the water. Satan acting like a little lovable in nuisance, pretending to be the evil demon as he goes after you in the water. Grabbing you and dragging you closer to him as you squeal and bat water at him.

You pick flowers to put in his ponytail which he obediently lets you do (He's mad but he likes it, so he shuts up). Show building his demon strength. He picks up a whole tree from its roots out of the ground, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You sit down on that same tree after he placed it on the ground and the two of you talk about your lives, about humans, about devils... About angels. And that's the sound goes down he drives you back.

Mammon

Oh boy, instead of sending a text like any normal demon would he sends you a letter in case in gold. In that letter is Oh great... A date with Mammon dinner reservations on Saturday??? He sent you a package, too? Opening up the package, you see, Oh no, why is this in gold and white? How much is this? It feels like silk, and the price tag is conveniently on it. You tear off the price tag immediately, throwing it away. Mammon knows how to date He probably has been on tons of dates and he wants to show off. He wants to spoil you. He wants to give you the best night of your life so you'll always think of him on your other dates.

Mammon prefers you wear something of his on his dates He wants to deck you in his wealth give you what you deserve. He even is gracious enough to give you a ride to Tartaros And when you get there, you look absolutely stunning but not as stunning as Mammon looks in that tuxedo. You're staring directly at him, and he knows it. He gives you a confident smirk. His eyebrows raised giving you a 'like what you see?' look.

A fancy restaurant dimly lit in the VIP room reserved only for the king of Tartaros and his date tonight. A bottle of expensive alcohol is set on the table with two glasses. Candle lit even rose petals all over the table on the floor. You feel like You're with an A-list celebrity, The way Mammon is holding that glass and the menu. He looks seriously as if choosing his meal is the most important thing in his life. He tries to get you to order the more expensive options. He makes suggestions. "I've eaten here many times by myself. I've always gotten this one. It's pretty good. I think I'm going to have something different tonight."

You have to say the meal was amazing. And he watched you take every bite as satisfied smile on his face even asking you if it's good. "Good that's the food you deserve." He even ordered do you dessert to take home. (Your sure Satan will destroy that before you even get to it) despite how many times he would not keep his hands to himself tonight he is a gentleman holding open the door rolling out a chair for you even asking you politely if you would like this night to continue.

You thought that means going to his bed room nope. He takes you somewhere else He takes you to all the sights and tartarus he would want to show you All the sights he can show you tonight. He's upset that he can't show it to you all night. But he assures that there will be more dates.

Leviathan

Fucking terrible at dates. The whole scene plays out like Beauty and the Beast, where he demands you down for dinner, and you deny him. And his subordinates have to teach him how to ask you out properly. After they dress him up, make him look nice to you. Biting his tongue, he politely asks you down for dinner with him. You say yes because well he's not being an asshole and to be honest you barely have eaten since you came to Hades.

Levi is barely eating He is watching you the whole time to be honest he is very on edge. Is this what being on a date is? It's terrible His heart is filled with anxiety. When your eyes meet his he stumbled picking up his work and eating His cheeks turning pink.

He brings you out into the castle gardens, a place you have not been to yet. Because he brought you here and, to be honest, almost killed you. You probably see Hades as a hostile country. He wants to show you the beauty of his castle and his country. The two of you are alone in the garden. He doesn't want to be forceful again, something that his subordinates told him not to do to when your affection, but he can't help but feel a little jealous. You are admiring the beauty of The red roses and the hedges of his garden, but he wants that attention on him. He leaves your side for a second coming back with a flower. Levi does not know how to talk to people so it's hard he presents it to you quietly before stuttering "I saw you looking at them."

He could have sworn he saw you sneak a glance at him. His heart is pounding in his chest What kind of look did you give him??? Is it a glare?! Is it a smile?!! He has to know but he just can't bring himself to open his mouth as you walk down the courtyard together deeper into the garden, He keeps thinking back to how you didn't flinch away at his touch when he put the flower in your hair.

Something catches your eye: the vegetables? Your eyes light up with curiosity. Oh, look, he had never seen it before. So make sure to burn it in his mind. "Oh yes, I grow my own things here for the chefs to prepare. I'm quite picky with food. I'd rather grow my own things than worry about what the hell is imported in Hades." some vegetables you don't even recognize. He tells you about each one and what they taste like. "If you're still hungry, I can ask the chef to prepare you some-"You cut off his words when you pop a berry into his mouth. He grumbles but chews. As a bit of payback, he picks up a weird fruit and starts itching closer to you. The servants stare at you wide-eyed when you come back into the building covered in soil, their imaginations running wild.

Beelzebub

Beelzebubs style of dating is not only more casual but spontaneous. He'll just decide that "hey let's go out tonight, let's go on a date right now!" And his dating spots are more about having fun. If it isn't clubs or bars it's amusement parks or other places to have fun. You never know what you're going to get sometimes you'll start bar or club hopping, or it will be an attraction that he has been bothering you about for days.

He wants you to have fun. He wants you to let loose if he sees you hesitating only for a second film massage your shoulders. "Come on, have some fun... Abyssos is the funniest place in hell. Let's lose a little bit."He's only having fun when you're having fun. So, of course, he takes you to the best amusement park in all of Hell. Usually, the park is complete, and tickets are always sold out. "Don't worry, you're a pretty little head princess. Luckily for you, your date is the King."skipping all of the lines just because of special privilege didn't feel right to you, so you got to go in for free and do any games for free, but you agreed to still go through the lines.

You will feel like a child again for all the rights they have some of them are a little intense meant for demons of course. But there are still plenty of games and rides that are made for humans. And of course you do get to go on all of them for free so of course you're going to go on every single one of them. You practically drag each other around the park smiles big and eyes wide with wonder. Beelzebub started becoming interest in the food stalls more than the rides. He's always carrying some kind of food thing in his hand. Then he insists to go on a roller coaster. "What don't look at me like that I'm a devil a petty little roller coaster isn't going to affect me..."Cut to The glorious king of Abyssos in all his glory puking of what he just ate because the roller coaster upset his stomach.

Unlike the carnivals in the human world the games are not rigged. Devils just want to have fun according to Beel (it's just slightly gambling So you beg to differ), keep puffs out his chest and pride as he wins you a toy. You are very skeptical because Beels king status, but you take it anyway. The rush of winning hits him and suddenly you now have 20 stuffed animals and toys that you're hauling around. Good thing he has people to help him carry it :).

How the hell can this man still be eating after having his guts destroyed on that roller coaster here? He was munching away at what you think is a pretzel. Hell, food is weird??? After spending all day at the carnival, He's still hungry, asking you if You would like dinner. Usually, he would go to a club by now, but he knows that you are not a devil and you are not him, and after a day of excitement, that is enough for you.

Lucifer

He knows humans from a scientific standpoint, but he still cannot grasp human emotion. It's something that he pretends to understand, but he knows better. He has no idea how humans Court, so many things he does are a little outdated—showing up dressed nicely with some flowers and some gifts. He figured a nice walk in the park or be okay..."okay, I think I'm a little overdressed for this, I admit." He sighs. You seem to like it though so he does not care. His breath hitches when you rap an arm around his. He didn't know why he forgot that couples normally hold hands like this so he shouldn't be reacting this way.

Lucifer is silent the entire date He does not know what to say so he doesn't say anything. Really would be up to you to get him to speak ask questions and such. "Hm? Yes you can ask me anything, my dear I will not mind no matter the question, within reason of course."He is reserved He doesn't want to do anything unless you ask for it. Even though you want him to take initiative. You want him to kiss you.

You are not the only ones one dragon and one tiny little devil followed you. Peering at the two of you from the bushes. They were very excited that there King was going on a date This was a very special occasion and they want to know how it's going.

You find a place to sit, underneath a tree where the petals fall fluttering to the ground. A lot of your conversations seem to more about your health and how you've been doing and hell. You reassure him and he smiles putting an arm around you, he pulls you closer. The first time he had showed affection today, and you are loving it, nuzzling into his chest. The two of you taking the beauty around you hearing the wind looking at the cloudy sky. And enjoying each other's company. Until a cold raindrop hit you. Lucifer noticed What you thought was his cane was actually an umbrella as he opens it up. "Let's walk back home I do not want you to catch a cold."

He puts mostly you under the umbrella his shoulder dripping with water. You scoot closer to him and he invites you happily. The umbrella was something Gamigin pastored him to take with him. Nothing much happened but that's okay. Next time he proposes that you picnic when the weather is nicer. You like that idea.

#whb x reader #whb lucifer #whb leviathan #whb mammon #whb beelzebub #whb #what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#wihib #wihib x reader #whb satan #whb headcanons

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iris-qt · 1 year ago

Text

𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚞𝚖

☕️ ʙʟᴀɪꜱᴇ ᴢᴀʙɪɴɪ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

☕️ ʙɢ ᴍᴜꜱɪᴄ: ᴄʟɪᴄᴋ!

☕️ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ

☕️ ᴀ/ɴ: ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ꜰɪᴄ ɪᴠᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ ꜱᴏ ꜰᴀʀ

☕️ ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: ʙʟᴀɪꜱᴇ ᴢᴀʙɪɴɪ ꜱᴛᴜᴍʙʟᴇꜱ ᴀᴄʀᴏꜱꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴜꜱᴇᴜᴍ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴇɴᴅ ᴜᴘ ꜱᴘᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ…ᴘᴇʀʜᴀᴘꜱ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ꜰᴀʟʟ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

“Order for Blaise..er Zucchini?”

Blaise scoffed, rolling his eyes as the frazzled ginger barista in that muggle café tarnished his name. He strode up to the counter, grabbing his nightly cup of coffee.

“Cool name, man,” the barista said, and Blaise couldn’t help but think he bore an uncanny resemblance to Ron Weasley. Don’t be silly, Blaise. Not all gingers look the same.

Blaise answered him with a disdainful look and walked off, into the cold winter air. Winter break from Hogwarts was great and all; aside from the fact his father forced him to intern at the Ministry. He had just finished his shift and was in much need of some coffee. As difficult as it was for him to admit, muggles sure knew how to brew some nice, strong coffee. Bitter and pure black bean juice. Just the way he liked it.

His black woolen trench coat billowed around him as he braved the winter wind, finally entering back into wizarding London. He walked down the usual high streets, sipping his scalding hot coffee every now and then. Of course Blaise could just apparate home, but why would he be in any rush to return? He’d already spent all day at the Ministry doing his father’s tedious, excruciating paperwork and his return back home would simply include interrogation from his father about the manner in which he completed the paperwork.

Work, work, and more work.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

He detoured to the wide luxury streets filled with shops selling the most high-brand robes and cloaks. Looking around, Blaise passed the vast marble building known to be the largest wizard art museum. Domus Artium. Latin for The House of Arts. There was a small line of well-dressed witches and wizards milling about and making their way in. Upon closer inspection to a giant plastered poster, there was some sort of art curator and historian event occurring.

Blaise couldn’t stop his curiosity and made his way inside…

Moving art as far as the eye could see. Nighttime is when the portraits no longer have to stay in their own frames and act polite to the museum’s visitors. Night is when they could run free and visit their friends in a frame in another wing. He’d never been to this museum despite living so close. His family only valued art when it served to display their wealth and power.

He strode inside, aware he was not invited, but it wasn’t his fault the man in charge of the guests that came in was too busy talking up some older woman. Plus, he was Blaise Zabini. What were they going to do? Kick him out? Laughable.

He was walking down the corridor which contained a few people observing the paintings. Looking behind him to make sure he was clear, he rounds the corner and runs into someone, yelping as his coffee flies into the air.

The person he ran into expertly flicks their wand and freezes the coffee in midair, returning it back to the cup and the cup back in Blaise’s outstretched hand.

“Are you supposed to be here?” you smirk, slightly surprised at Zabini’s presence at your gallery. He straightens his black formal shirt and gazes warily at you.

“Y/L/N..uh yes..I’m a huge art enthusiast,” he scratches the back of his head as you lean in teasingly, taking in his familiar expensive scent. Was that black cherry? You could never puzzle it out. You mused at his slightly panicked expression. You had a knack for always catching Blaise at his worst moments.

“Oh yeah? What’s your favorite art piece in this gallery?”

Blaise, however, found you absolutely infuriating. Such a know-it-all. He thought the worst part about it was that you acted so clueless and normal…then you pounced with your genius knowledge. Absolutely infuriating. Everything about you. From your perfectly styled hair to your little uniform you were wearing that just so happened to accentuate every possible curve…

He shook his head. No way he was falling prey to your witchy charms. He’d never be caught dead.

“That’s quite a difficult question. So many pieces come to mind.”

“Oh I’m sure,” you smile, biting back a louder laugh at this piece of gorgeous free entertainment that just waltzed into your domain.

“I suppose the one with the ballerinas.”

“I sure hope you’re not talking about that one painting on the History of Magic O.W.L. exam last year?”

He sighs, realizing there was no way in hell he’d get past you. Well, he wasn’t quite sure how you were here in the first place. He wasn’t aware you held any high place in society.

“Don’t you think dressing up as a museum curator to sneak in seems a bit desperate?” he smirks, looking you up and down in your formal uniform, flicking your little name tag.

“For your information, Zabini, I work here on breaks,” you dramatically spread out your arms, grinning “welcome to my crib.”

He scoffs in response. “You expect me to just believe you got a flexible job at an esteemed place such as this?”

“My family owns this place, genius.”

He raises an eyebrow in surprise. Surely he’d know if you held such a high place in society.

“Merlin, you don’t know anything about art do you, Zabini? Not even my family name?”

He averts his eyes. There’s nothing he hated more than admitting he was wrong or didn’t know something. That’s precisely why he found you so frustrating for he was always somehow in the wrong when it came to you.

To his surprise, and to yours as you’re not sure where this burst of confidence came from, you grabbed his hand and began leading him down a darkened corridor, blocked off by a sign that said ‘DO NOT ENTER’. His hand was cold from the harsh winds outside and you grasped it, hoping he would find some warmth in you. Blaise was someone you’d always felt content with. He wasn’t intimidated by you nor was he avoidant. He resisted every teasing comment and challenging situation you threw at him. He was insanely stubborn and arrogant. And you lived for it. His little frustrated faces and his neverending efforts to upend you. You could spend the rest of your life doing that with this man that was now in your grasp.

“Perhaps you need another set of eyes because that sign clearly advised us not to submerge ourselves in this dark hall,” Blaise deadpanned, attempting to hide the shiver of excitement your touch brought him. You were warm and he had to fight the urge to bury his ice cold nose in your neck. Thank Merlin it was pitch black so you couldn’t see his flustered expression.

With a mutter of a spell, the entire room you had led them into lit up. The floating candles burst with warm flames, dancing along the walls, as some of the remaining figures in the portraits grumbled as they awoke.

“My apologies, Hecate,” you muttered to a painting of the powerful ancient Greek goddess of magic who was glaring at you from her lounge chair.

Blaise couldn’t help but be in awe of the various paintings lining the walls. Of course the walls of Hogwarts were littered with various paintings, but none as skillfully made as these.

“Gorgeous, aren’t they?” you leaned your elbow on Blaise’s shoulder simply to fluster him, looking up at his sculpted, ethereal face. Merlin, if you took Blaise to the marble statue portion of the museum, it wouldn’t be hard to observe the godly resemblance between statue and Zabini.

“I can’t believe I’ve never visited this place..” Blaise mutters under his breath, gazing in awe at the various works of art. This beautiful building was just a few blocks from his penthouse home, and he could not believe he had never stepped foot inside. He knew now that he could get lost in here for hours among the art.

And that’s precisely what you and Blaise did. You slowly made your way around the room, stopping at the plaques so Blaise could read the information and facts about the paintings. You’d already memorized most of them, so you took the time to study his gorgeous face. Hours went by as the clock waned down to the wee hours of 3 am. Sharing in little quips and jokes, Blaise became aware of why he always found you so fascinating. Why he ceased to be interested in anyone else from his first moments with you. You were so passionate and beautiful as they circled the various rooms of the vast museum. He loved standing, observing the paintings, while being shoulder to shoulder with you. Heart coming to life at the slightest touch.

The sleepless night brought a sense of delirium as you couldn’t contain your laughter. You and Blaise walked around, tripping over each other, giggling like little maniacs at the silliest things. Distant noises, certain paintings, gossip that Blaise oh so loved to share,

“Is it just me, or does that troll resemble Crabbe?” You gestured, snickering, toward a painting of an Icelandic troll, who was kicking a rotted tree stump.

“What? I assumed that was a self portrait?” Blaise burst into yet another fit of laughter

A nearby cherub began playing its harp, the melancholy music reverberating around the circular marble room. The candles twinkled, wax dripping down and evaporating into twinking magic before they could fall any further. The crescent moon was visible from the domed glass ceiling, and as you looked up, Blaise gazed at the moon reflected in your smiling eyes. In a trance, he watched you; a goddess in the moonlight.

“Earth to Zabini?” you waved your hand in front of his face, laughing softly at his dazed expression.

On a whim, Blaise held out his silver ring-clad hand; slender fingers reaching for yours in the atmosphere of the ethereal harp music.

“May I have this dance?” he said, smirking his smitten smirk.

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his cheesy grin but, of course, take this beautiful man’s hand anyway, his rings cold to the touch.

He gently held your hand as he sweeped you around the candlelit room; eyes meeting under the twinkling flames. Blaise’s deep eyes, usually cold, melted like milk chocolate at the sight of you twirling. He held you as gently as if you were a fractured ancient statue. As if you could break at a touch. He never wanted this moment to end. He never wanted to leave your museum. He could stay here forever.

The moment ended and the both of you broke apart. The cherub in the painting ceased to play its harp with one last, hauntingly beautiful note. Blaise couldn’t help but gaze upon you in the dim light. He couldn’t help but realize that this was the most magical day of his life. And he’s literally a wizard. You leaned in and hugged him tight, face buried in his chest. You never wanted this to end. You wanted to be held in his arms forever. But alas every moment must end, as your aunt briskly walked into the room, her echoing footsteps warning you fast enough to pull apart before she could see. She looked frazzled, holding a small piece of parchment.

“Y/n...Mr. Zabini what are you doing in my museum?” She looked slightly angry.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” You walked up to her, looking nervous at her unusually negative expression.

“Mr. Zabini’s father has sent me a letter stating that witnesses saw his son walk in here and it looks like they were not incorrect,” she glares at you. “Do you know what time it is, Y/N? Its 4am. Why would you sneak him in here?”

“Auntie, calm down. We just lost track of time..”

“Lost track of time?? Do you know what his father could do to our museum? With one bad review in the Daily Prophet we could be practically shut down. We’re definitely on his bad side now…” your aunt muttered, hiding her face in her hands.

Blaise walks up and addresses your aunt “Mrs. Y/L/N, I assure you this was all my own fault. I was curious to see what event was going on and got distracted by your wonderful collection of art. I deeply apologize and I shall profusely inform my father this is my own doing and ensure your museum will not be bashed in the Daily Prophet. My job is to overlook the writing my father sends out anyway,” he warmly smiles at her.

After she walks away, convinced and apologizing for her outburst, you turn to Blaise, folding your arms teasingly.

“Looks like you were out past your bedtime, Zabini.”

He scoffs fondly, taking your waist in his arms again, leaning his head on you. You couldn’t help but blush as that, averting your confident gaze much to Blaise’s amusement.

“You work here everyday during this break, right?”

“Mhm.”

He grins widely, his gorgeous chocolate skin breaking into smile lines that you had to fight the urge to kiss.

“I’ll be visiting everyday for…research purposes,” he winks dramatically and you can’t help but laugh.

“I’d be more than happy to assist you on your research endeavors, Blaise.”

“Perfect, because I’ll be specifically requesting you,” he whispers, gaze averting to your lips.

You lean up to reach his perfect lips and they connect, a flame brighter than all the candles on the ceiling igniting within the both of you.

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