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scribendis · 10 months

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𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐒𝐞𝐚

Daemon Targaryen x female reader (third person perspective) ❖ husband & wife

Warnings: smut, profanity, these two are SO horny, dirty talk, p in v sex, size kink ish, breeding kink ish, just a little bit of throat grabbing Rating: 18+ MDNI Word count: ~5,100

Summary: Mere months after their wedding, Daemon left his young bride to join the War in the Stepstones. His victory and subsequent return to King's Landing three years later meant that his wife would never spend another night alone in their bed.

A/N: I hope all my Daemon girls out there enjoy! This one's dedicated to you! Also, this is barely proofread and not beta'd. Lordy help me. Dividers by @saradika | AO3 link | Wattpad link

Mini HV glossary for ~future reference: ābrazȳrītsos - little wife ñuha dōna - my sweet issa - yes

Prince Daemon Targaryen had not been her father’s first choice of husband for her. It had, in fact, been the lord’s intention to marry her - his youngest child and only daughter - to King Viserys following the death of his queen. The prospect of such an arrangement brought her immense pride, for her house would benefit greatly from the wealth and status that would follow. But, by the time their wheelhouse finally passed through the gates of King’s Landing, the marriage between the king and Lady Alicent Hightower had already been set in stone.

The king had thus suggested that she wed his younger brother instead, a prospect that her lord father balked at at first. Prince Daemon’s reputation certainly preceded him. No man called the “Rogue” anything had any right to take his precious daughter to wife. But when the Rogue Prince placed a wreath of flowers on her head and proclaimed her the Queen of Love and Beauty upon winning the tourney held in celebration of the king’s wedding, her betrothal to him was all but assured.

She allowed herself to be wooed by him and his devilish smile, feeling herself falling harder and harder for him each time she caught his gaze from across rooms and banquet tables. There could be one hundred people between them and their eyes would always seem to find one another. His, more often than not, studied far more than her pretty face, trailing downward to her ample breasts or the curve of her waist.

She had been told that Daemon was no great lover of dancing, but he offered his hand to her during every occasion that had musicians in attendance. And that hand found itself, more often than not, wandering dangerously past her hips as they moved about the dance floor. She was blissfully unaware of the fact that the prince would fuck his fist each night afterward at the thought of the places his hands had touched and what they might look like once he tore her clothes from her body.

It was no wonder, then, that Daemon made certain that she fulfilled her wifely duties as soon as they were wed. He was barely able to make it through their wedding feast without whisking her away to finally claim her. But that night, he ensured that the entire Red Keep knew exactly whose wife she was.

In those first days of their marriage, she felt that she hardly left their marriage bed. When her presence was required at court, she walked with such an ache in her thighs and between her legs that she wished she could lounge about in bed all day. Each morning, without fail, their shared chambers still held the warm, musky scent of their coupling from the night before. It lingered on the sheets and on her skin throughout the day, only encouraging her husband’s desires further once he returned to her side.

But their time together, it turned out, would be short lived. She and Daemon had hardly been married for three moons before Lord Corlys Velaryon’s invitation to join his house in the War for the Stepstones brought him hundreds of leagues away from her. Daemon could not refuse, for the potential glory of battle - his greatest chance to prove his worth to the realm - was a far more alluring prize than even his beautiful new wife. The kiss goodbye he gave her before climbing on the back of his dragon tasted bitter on her tongue.

She did not see her lord husband for three years. Life at court became a lonely thing. She was without children to care for or a husband to tend to. What she had was a husband whose actions in the Stepstones seemed to ripple all the way back to the Red Keep. To her. Slowly but surely, she watched her image deteriorate from that of a prince’s wife to that of a social pariah. How ashamed she must have been of her husband, the other ladies would whisper when they thought she was not listening - and, sometimes, when they knew that she was.

Their shunning of her only worsened as news continued to trickle in about the rising victory of the Triarchy. She would sometimes linger outside of the Small Council chambers and trail after Ser Tyland Lannister in search of any information he had regarding her husband. Toward the end of the war, none of his news was good. She had come to accept that she would awake any day now a widow at the tender age of one and twenty.

Until the morning that her maidservant burst through her door and all but shook her awake, uttering what, to her, was a garbled mess of words in her half-asleep state. But she did process enough to know one thing: Daemon had been spotted returning to King’s Landing.

She rarely wore the colors of her husband’s house, opting instead for her own house colors. But today, as she followed the crowd into the throne room, she wore a striking dress of blood red the same hue as her husband’s dragon, Caraxes, and a necklace of rubies to match. Today, she was once again a Targaryen bride.

She caught the eyes of some of the women who had spent the last three years lambasting her for her husband’s deeds. For his failures. She barely regarded them as she pushed past, her head held high and a smirk painting her lips. But, briefly catching the shocked look on Lord Beesbury’s wife, which somehow made the old woman look even more like a pigeon than she already did, she felt validation run warm through her veins. This would stop their wagging tongues.

In her place near the front of the throne room, she and everyone else watched Daemon approach the king. She had hoped but not suspected that he would find her among the crowd, so when his eyes flickered to her for a fleeting moment, she felt warmth radiate down her entire spine.

Though he had looked away to address his brother, she did not take her eyes off of him for even a second. His silvery-blonde hair, now cut short, gave her an admirable view of his face and neck. Though obviously kissed by the sun, his skin also bore other changes. Forehead creases and other new wrinkles, likely from frowning or stress or both. A mottled, pink scar painted the right side of his neck and disappeared below his armor. She dreaded to think about just how far it went and how many others lay beneath his clothes.

Truthfully, their time together before his departure had been so brief that she could not quite put her finger on all of the ways in which the war had changed him physically. From where he stood, the light pouring in from one of the high windows behind him highlighted a small scar just beside his right eyebrow. Did he have that before? She could not remember just now.

There would be plenty of time for her to relearn her husband’s body anew, just as he would hers. She did not realize how lonely a place the marriage bed could be with her husband so far away for so long. All she could hope was that he would still find her pleasing after their years apart.

Their reunion, it seemed, would have to wait, for the king was eager to whisk Daemon away from the eyes of the court following his return. Her disappointment meant little when measured against the wishes of the king, even though the ache in her heart felt all too real as she watched the brothers ascend the steps out of the throne room.

She fielded several congratulatory remarks and other words of praise for her husband from those around her - the very same individuals who had spent years speaking naught but ill about him, whether to her face or behind her back. But she had known all along that Daemon would prove them wrong.

The dispersing crowd soon filtered out of the throne room, with some individuals most assuredly sharing whispered words of gossip with their neighbors and others simply wondering when the celebratory feast would be held. She was one of the last to exit the room, a dizzying mixture of anticipation, relief, and disappointment churning in her stomach.

So when a hand caught her by the throat and another by her upper arm as she ascended the stone steps into the hallway, she was taken completely by surprise. She hardly had time to let out a frightened gasp before a familiar voice breathed into her ear.

“Will you not welcome the prince home from war, my lady?”

Her fear washed off of her just as quickly as it had come. Heaving a sigh, she smiled. “Daemon.”

He turned her on the spot so they were face to face, his hand moving to hold her by the nape of her neck so she could not pull away. But she would not have done so even if he had not held her in such a way.

“Gods, you scared me,” she continued. If he could only feel the way her heart was racing in her breast at his little stunt.

His bottom lip stuck out in a feigned pout. “And here I thought my dear wife would be excited to see me.” He placed his forefinger beneath her chin to tilt her face upward, his violet eyes studying the planes of her face as though he was seeing her for the first time all over again.

“She is.”

A satisfied grin tugged at Daemon’s lips at the warmth of her remark, though he did not release her from his embrace. Rather, he pulled her closer and leaned down to claim her lips for the first time since his departure. To kiss him felt so familiar, yet also like a distant dream of a time long past. He allowed his lips to linger, savoring the moment as though they did not have dozens of onlookers watching them.

“Should you not be with the king?” she murmured against his lips but felt him smirk.

“I have had to look at my brother’s ugly face since before I can remember,” Daemon replied, running his hand down the length of her spine until it came to rest in the small of her back. “I would rather have a moment alone with my pretty wife.”

That he had forgotten her or, at least, his burgeoning feelings for her during his years in the Stepstones had been a great worry of hers. He had been all too enthusiastic to leave her side and partake in the war to begin with. She often thought that, should he return one day, the two of them would be no more than strangers to one another. That whatever spark that had ignited between them in the early days of their marriage would have long since burned out.

But she recognized the look in his eyes as they roamed her face and continued downward, along the exposed line of her collarbone and shoulders before going even further. They ravaged her form as they had on all those evenings both before and after they were wed. He was entranced by the way her crimson gown enhanced her womanly shape. No doubt, he was toying with the thought of tearing it from her body right here and now, and reclaiming what was his for the entire court to see.

The mere prospect of such an act sent heat rushing through her lower stomach that pooled between her legs. She hadn’t worn her smallclothes beneath her gown today, remembering how tedious her husband had always found the extra barrier to be. He would have discovered that, if only he would have taken her by the hand and led her to their quarters.

“You heard what I told my brother,” Daemon continued, his breath feather soft and warm on her cheek. “About the title they bestowed upon me in the Stepstones.”

“King of the Narrow Sea,” she whispered, feeling her mouth go dry as she watched the violet of his eyes become consumed by black. “But… you gave your crown to His Grace.”

Daemon clicked his tongue as he would in disappointment at a child. “Would my wife not have me be her king?”

Gods, she began to ache with need at such a question. She knew he noticed every flutter of her eyelashes, every rise and fall of her breast, every lick of her lips. He was an animal playing with its food, enjoying the act of teasing her. Testing her to see if she had missed him.

“She would.” Her reply came out hoarsely, which only made the wicked smile on his lips widen further.

“And that would make you my queen,” he cooed as their noses brushed against one another. “Queen of the Narrow Sea.” His thumb moved slowly along the line of her jaw until it found the soft spot just beneath it where her pulse was hammering against her throat and pressed lightly.

She swallowed hard. “Queen of… of rocks and crabs and sand,” she said in jest, a paltry attempt at distracting herself from the now unbearable ache between her thighs.

Daemon chuckled shortly. “But my queen nonetheless.” His lips moved to her ear to deal their final blow. “Do not think that I have forgotten the sweet sounds of your moans, ābrazȳrītsos,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble like that of a dragon’s echoing throughout the Dragonpit. “Or the even sweeter taste of your cunt.”

She could not stay the soft whimper that fell from her lips. Her body practically trembled with unfulfilled need - three years of it. What a devil her husband was for inflicting such torment on her, and in clear view of every nobleman and servant who walked past.

And he was even worse for withdrawing from her completely and regarding her with a saccharine grin, though the dark lustfulness in his eyes belied his sudden pleasantry.

“My brother unfortunately demands my company just now, ñuha dōna, but rest assured…” He looked her up and down hungrily once more before stepping around her in a single languid step. “I shall be treating you like a queen tonight.”

Her eyes scanned the page of the open book that was draped across her lap, but the words may as well have been written in Lhazareen. She had gone over this page a dozen times but retained nothing, plagued by thoughts of her husband as she was.

The sun had long since set and here she sat, alone, by the fire waiting for him. Of course, the king was not to be denied his brother’s presence and she knew that Daemon was certainly basking in the attention and praise that was being showered on him. But she would still hold him to his promise.

Having given up on her paltry attempt at reading, she rose. Her bare feet carried her restlessly back and forth across the cool flagstone floor of the bedchambers that her husband had not slept in for three long years. With every turn, her eyes flitted to the door as though she could will it open with her mind alone.

“Seven hells, Daemon,” she sighed.

She had not sated her own desire after her husband had left her wanting earlier, so the anticipation of their reunion this evening had only continued festering inside her throughout the day. It gnawed at her now, an itch that only he could scratch.

What could she do to prepare for him, she wondered? There was no use in changing into a nightgown that would only end up on the floor. She had no wish to drink herself into a haze that would rob her of the pleasures of their lovemaking. In the end, she decided to perch herself before her vanity and remove the jewels adorning her neck, ears, and fingers. They would only get in the way.

It was when she dipped her head to unclasp her necklace that she heard the heavy wooden door push open. Her eyes immediately snapped to the mirror in front of her, only to see her husband already leaning against the far wall, admiring her. The mere sight of his lips curled into a half smirk was enough to send a rush of heat through her lower belly.

“Do you require assistance with that, ābrazȳrītsos?”

Daemon did not wait for an answer before he pushed himself away from the wall and sauntered over to her. Sneakily placing something on the cushion beside her, he took his place behind her and lifted his hands to remove her necklace.

“Red was always so becoming on you,” he whispered against the shell of her ear, admiring the color of the rubies against her skin before carelessly tossing the necklace onto the vanity. “You were destined to be a Targaryen bride.”

Her eyes fell closed as she felt his lips move downward to press to her neck. “Yes, I think I was.”

“Keep your eyes closed.” His words were a soft hum against her skin. “I have something to give you.”

Her heart skipped a beat. With her eyes closed, she could hear the rustle of his tunic as he turned. Smell the sweet aroma of wine on his breath. Feel the warmth of his arms enveloping her. Then, there was the cool touch of metal on her forehead and the sudden weight of something in her hair. His fingers gathered the long strands of hair that she had already unbraided and brushed, pulling them to one side of her neck. Once again, his lips found her ear.

“Open.”

She found her image in the mirror again and beheld his gift to her. A circlet cast in what she assumed was Valyrian steel with glittering rubies mounted along the front of the band. It fit her head perfectly and complemented the color of her hair in a way that no other accessory ever had before. When she reached a hand up to touch it, Daemon caught her fingers and brought them to his lips.

“Oh, it’s beautiful…” she breathed. The smile that lit up her features elicited one of his own. “This is what kept you, isn’t it?”

A look of pride flashed in his eyes. “My queen deserved a crown.”

She turned around in her chair to face him, her smile gone and her brow furrowed. The gesture was a lovely one, but it would be an insult to Queen Alicent for her to ever wear this publicly. And she had already spent the last few years as an outcast at court; she would never take risk worsening the others’ view of her. “Daemon, I-I couldn’t possibly wear this. Not at court…”

“Then wear it for me,” he crooned, slowly smoothing his hands along the warm skin of her exposed shoulders. “And nothing else.”

She couldn’t bear it any longer or deny her burning need for him. He could ask anything of her and she would submit. He had her in the palm of his hand and he knew it.

“How… how do you say ‘queen’ in High Valyrian?” Her voice was but a breath, trembling and full of lasciviousness.

Daemon smiled crookedly. “Dāria.” His thumb brushed across the spot on her neck where he could feel her hammering pulse, just as it had earlier. “Ñuha dāria.”

She knew enough of his mother tongue to know what that meant.

My queen.

“And ‘king?’” Her throat felt painfully dry, now.

He leaned forward, his gaze reflecting a mixture of playfulness and possessiveness. “Dārys.”

She watched as what little was left of violet in his eyes was overtaken by the black of his pupils. His hand at the side of her neck squeezed slightly. His nostrils flared. And, all the while, he wore the same half-smirk on those lips of his that she wanted to kiss every last inch of her.

“Say it,” he growled.

“Ñuha dārys.”

Their lips crashed together in a devouring kiss far more passionate than the one they had shared in the hall that afternoon. Daemon easily lifted her into his arms and bore her toward their bed, just as he had on the night that they were married. He did not break their kiss for even a second, not to breathe or to utter soft words of yearning and love. They had so much lost time to make up for and tonight would only be a start.

With barely any care for the intricately sewn gold buttons that trailed down the back of the dress, his hands began to rip the garment open. He tore at the red fabric with the ferocity of a beast while his tongue danced with hers. They were caught in a swirling storm of desire and longing, heat and passion - and they were perfectly content to let it sweep them away together.

Buttons scattered across the flagstone floor to be lost forever underneath the heavy furnishings, and soon her dress joined them as it fell in a heap beside their bed. Daemon’s roguish smirk returned when his hands cupped her bare arse and pressed her against him.

“It’s hardly befitting of my queen to strut about the palace without smallclothes like a common whore.” He bit down gently on her bottom lip and relished in the soft mewl that rose in her throat. “Any man could…”

As his voice trailed off, she felt his fingertips ghost over her hip before moving to her center and sliding into her wet heat. His fingers curled inside her immediately, expertly finding her most pleasurable spot as though it had not been years since he had last fucked her. A stuttering, wanton moan left her, only encouraging him to continue.

“...take advantage.”

Daemon coaxed her back onto their bed, never pulling his hand away from where, with rapacious speed, he was already bringing her to the brink of the most carnal pleasure. But as she pushed herself up onto her elbows in search of his lips, he pulled back.

“Uh uh,” he hummed. “Look at me, ābrazȳrītsos.” He no longer wished to kiss her, choosing instead to watch her with the same darkened eyes as he had earlier. He saw it all. The way her half-lidded eyes struggled to stay on his, the way her brow twitched and furrowed, the way her neck strained with effort.

And she was ablaze beneath him, the dragon’s touch inside her reigniting a fire that she had not felt in so long. The warmth of it began to spread through her as his fingers swiftly brought her to her release, which spread through every limb until it consumed her like a wildfire in the countryside.

There was a grin of satisfaction on Daemon’s face when she opened her eyes again. To him, no sight could have been better than that of her beneath him, breathless, with flushed skin as she lay in the haze of her release. And to her, the image of him licking her wetness from his fingers with such lecherous desire in his eyes could have finished her once more.

He sat back on his haunches to remove his doublet and tunic, which joined her gown on the floor as though they may as well have been dirty rags. She barely had time to study his bare torso, scarred and more muscular than it had been when she had seen it last, before he was upon her again. When he leaned over her to kiss her, her own hands took over and began to fumble at the closure of his breeches.

“My poor little wife,” he rasped, “left without a husband to fill her all this time.”

Her lips curled into a sly grin that she knew he could feel against his lips. “Perhaps I have taken a lover in your absence.”

“Name the man and I shall have his head.” Daemon spoke in jest, she knew, but she also surmised that a certain level of sincerity lay beneath his words. Any man that would dare touch the wife of the Rogue Prince would incur his wrath. “Nay, his cock, and he may live out the rest of his days as a eunuch. Perhaps I will have him sent away to become an Unsullied or a priest of Boash.”

He watched her face intently as her trembling fingers finished their work at his breeches. She had already been brought to pleasure but the sight of his thick, hard cock emerging from his trousers as she pushed them down renewed that same need inside her like an ember that had been rekindled into a blaze. A memory bloomed in her mind of when she had first laid eyes on his manhood on the night of their wedding and how she had doubted that it could even fit inside her. She found herself considering the same thought now.

“O-on the contrary,” she managed, dotting her tongue out to wet her bottom lip. “I have had to pleasure myself.”

“Oh?” Daemon’s eyes narrowed and his lips parted as his hand lifted to her chin to hold her gaze so she had no choice but to see his lust. “I would have you show me sometime, ñuha dāria,” he purred with voracious need. “But for the rest of tonight? You will not cum anywhere but on my cock.”

He took her firmly by the hips, his calloused fingertips digging into her skin as he pulled her with him so that she straddled him. And then, in a brief moment of tenderness that barely concealed his near-animalistic desire, he twirled a strand of her hair between his fingers. “Know this: your cunt shall never go unfilled again. And perhaps I will put a babe in you, now that I am home.”

“Please.” Her voice, though barely a whisper, was heavy with want.

“Issa, ñuha dāria.”

Daemon pulled her hips down so that she sank onto his cock, too impatient to give his wife any time to adjust after three years apart. A soft whine left her at the sudden fullness, the way he stretched her as though he had claimed her maidenhead for a second time. He did not let even a second go to waste before he began to guide her movements atop him. She was at the mercy of his hands, which demanded her pleasure and the closeness of her body without remorse.

What he need not demand was the sweet cries of ecstasy that passed her lips, which filled their bedchambers and, likely, spilled into the hall outside of their door. They felt almost sinful to listen to and, yet, were the most beautiful sounds that he had ever heard.

“Gods… Daemon…” she moaned, her body arching into him. She had spent so many nights whispering his name into the darkness of their bedchambers as she brought herself to release at the thought of him. But to have him beneath her, inside her, around her once again was pure bliss.

At the sound of his name on her lips, Daemon pressed his face between her breasts and groaned hoarsely. “That’s it, ābrazȳrītsos,” he panted against her flushed skin, his fingers moving further to grasp her by the arse and pull her closer.

It would not be the gods that would make her cum tonight; it would be him.

She could feel it, the pleasure beginning to tighten inside her. She was at his mercy, lost in the feeling of him bucking his hips up into her and the sensation of his lips at her breasts. It felt impossible that one should experience such rapturous delight as this. In every touch and every choked growl that left him, she could sense that he felt exactly the same.

“Daemon, please–” Her words left her as a high-pitched squeak, signaling to him just how close she was to falling over the edge. Her body began to tense, her thighs trembling on either side of his hips. Her hands flew to his upper arms, grasping and almost pushing, as if to try and escape the wave of pleasure that was fast approaching.

But he would not let her go until it consumed them both.

With his hands still at her hips, Daemon pushed her backward until she was buried in the soft blanket that had been so perfectly laid atop their bed mere moments ago. His body sunk into hers, taking over from her previous ministrations atop him as her hands anchored themselves to his shoulders. He rutted into her like an animal, starved as he had been of her body for the last three years.

She felt herself shudder when his lips planted kisses along her jawline and moved up until they found her mouth. He swallowed every desperate moan that left her, the taste of them growing sweeter and sweeter the closer she came to her peak.

Her walls began to clench around him, her breath hitching with his every thrust. Any words she may have uttered only coiled at her throat, her thoughts meaningless as the building pleasure finally unfurled inside her. He held her steadfastly as she came around him, his touch her only lifeline as the heat and delirium ravished her completely.

“Cum with me,” she gasped against his lips. He would have kept going, brought her to another peak before finishing, but her soft plea was enough to end him, too.

“Fuck…” he groaned, thrusting into her one final time as he spilled himself inside her.

And when their shared pleasure had passed, her vice-like grip on his shoulders released. The light touches of her fingertips traveled across his back, feeling each new scar that he had acquired in the Stepstones. But he relished in her gentle touch after so many years of war, and allowed himself to collapse against her.

The weight of his body was soothing, his warmth a balm for her lonely heart. Their breaths slowed and, soon, the only sounds in the room came from the fireplace opposite their bed. It crackled and burned, its radiant heat intermingling with the lingering warmth of their coupling.

Daemon eventually lifted his head again and reached a hand up to straighten the circlet that had half fallen off of her head in their final throes of passion. He paused to admire the sight of her, still in a daze and wearing a sleepy smile on her lips. He kissed her once more and, when he withdrew, she saw that his eyes had regained some of their earlier hunger.

“Do not think that I am finished with you, ñuha dāria.”

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bakugoushotwife · 1 year

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kinktober day twelve: threesome kink

>>> brain go brrrr! i can only write a stsg threesome i swear it's bad these days. i just love this dynamic so bad and am clinically addicted omfg i hope u all love it as bad as i do--it is officially the longest piece thus far

>>> starring: satoru gojo x curvy!fem!reader x suguru geto >>> cw: mfm threesome, m/m interaction, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), spitroasting, reverse cowgirl, double penetration (same hole), overstimulation, hard dom!geto, pleasure dom!gojo, switch gojo, switch reader, squirting, creampie(s). >>> wc: 5.3k >>> event masterlist

he’s not sure when things changed. he’d always seen you in one light, he thought: his friend, his teammate, and a powerful sorceress that made the group a triple threat. you were easy to get along with and impressive to work alongside. you were also funny and had the same taste in music as him, which was a method of bonding during your early years of school. and sure, you were also insanely beautiful, but it was inappropriate for him to have a crush on his classmate. besides, yaga says it’s best not to intermingle with other sorcerers anyways. it would only complicate things, especially as you grow to be closer friends. so geto dated around to distance himself beyond missions and tried to to forget the butterflies your smile gave him for the sake of your group. with his luck, you were probably into satoru anyway.

he’s always been in love with you, he thinks, but enjoyed playing hard to get. unlike suguru, he didn’t shy away from spending time with you. he loved to follow you around campus with his arm hooked around your waist, all big grins and pick up lines that made you roll your eyes every time. he was able to play it off on his nature, claiming that annoying you was worth every extra second of his time. he was all too fond of your amazing skill and intellect, your immense beauty and body for days was only an added benefit. gojo made it a point to train with you exclusively, something that brought the two of you closer and allowed you to see the serious side of one of your best friends. he could never bring himself to make a real move. with his luck, you were probably into suguru anyway—like everyone else.

this delicate balance continued through the rest of your years at jujutsu tech and into your young adult years. the strongest, the curse-eater, and the girl that captured both of their hearts–and connected theirs to each other. gojo was able to satiate himself on his little touches and glimpses of your flustered smiles, shamelessly jerking off at night to the daydreams he has of his precious little girl best friend bouncing on his cock and moaning his name. geto tries to delude himself into feeling like a protective older brother, making it his job to monitor your safety and suitors. but no matter how much he tries, his hand still finds his cock in the comfort of his own bed in the middle of the night, shamefully pleasuring himself to the idea of having your body rocking beneath him and his hand around your neck.

everything gets worse—or better, depending on who you ask— when you all move in together. it was gojo’s idea, claiming his home was too big for just one singular man. so of course he would invite you to come live with him, he hoped to make you woman of the house at some point in the future anyway, so why not now? he extends the same invitation to his other best friend, only because he knows geto would kill him for taking you for himself. the men were close, closer than most friends in multiple ways, so it was no mystery that their shared crush on you eventually became common knowledge. neither of them minded the competition, seemingly convinced he would win your heart on his own before the other could do the same—or in the worst case scenario they would share you! (and whose idea do you think that was?)

but they had to up the ante.

it started small, geto dropped all his flings, even earning a few comments from you about how lonely he must be with his lack of company these days. he always chuckles and give you that suave smile of his, purring out a it’s time i get serious with a wink. he offered to make dinner nightly, making sure the brunt of housework didn’t fall on you since you were already on laundry duty. he always gave you rather selfish relationship advice, making sure you knew how differently he would treat a woman. it wasn’t lost on you, nor were gojo’s efforts.

he encouraged you to take his card and go crazy, often accompanying you on shopping sprees for the house and making sure you leave with an armful of new clothes and whatever else your eyes lingered on too long. satoru showed you his serious side, keeping the house regularly dusted and the floors cleaned, insisting a family should clean up after themselves and not keep servants to make their lives more detached. he invested in your hobbies, letting you try to teach him how to knit, play video games, even trying to do a little book club with you—that unfortunately, suguru was better at, much to his disappointment.

you weren’t dim, you could tell what was happening. you had your suspicions for a while, the two of them practically glued to your sides at all times nowadays—unless one of you was away on a mission, which happened far too often for their liking. you would be lying if you said their attention didn’t make you feel like the luckiest woman in the world, the two were easily the strongest sorcerers the world had to offer if you didn’t take one of those spots for yourself. they were both undeniably gorgeous in their own ways—so how could you possibly choose? your forced obliviousness is the only thing keeping you three firmly planted in friendshipville. though, it’s been more than obvious that you haven’t been seeing anyone outside of them, thank god, and you’re getting antsy. you have to apply more pressure, figure out something that would push them over the edge. you had to keep them competing for you since you couldn’t pick one over the other on your own. aha, you’ve got it—it’s low, scheming even, but you’re growing desperate. you’d just have to dust off your best acting skills and sluttiest outfit.

it was late that night. you knew the boys were still awake, able to hear their laughter from your room. with one final and steadying breath, you peeked into the living room. they were sitting together on the couch watching a movie that was forgotten about as soon as you walked in, the soft sound of your door closing behind drawing their attention. you were evil in your cropped tank that made it painfully clear that was the only thing covering your perky tits, and it didn’t stop there. you didn’t bother with shorts, a cute thong cupping your pussy and sitting along those glorious wide hips. they could die–the effect you have is clear immediately. suguru clutches a throw pillow over his lap, hoping to smoothly hide the throbbing erection just looking at you gave him, while satoru only makes his more obvious by spreading his legs—at least geto tried to respect you. their eyes are practically bulging from their heads, suguru’s lip was between his teeth meanwhile satoru’s curls into a smirk.

“you guys are being so loud out here.” you bat your eyes innocently, twirling a lock of your hair around your finger as you let your gaze bounce between them. gojo slides his glasses off, a bit starstruck as he sets them aside and looks over to suguru, needing him to be on the same page.

“sorry princess,” satoru pouts, patting the spot in between him and geto. “since you’re up…why don’t you hang out with us?” you note the greed swimming in those all-seeing eyes. you force some bashfulness.

“oh–dressed like this?” you rotate your hips a little bit to further your point and suguru has to clench his jaw tight to not groan aloud. “i wouldn't wanna make you guys uncomfortable.”

“you won’t.” suguru blurts out, tucking some of his overgrown bangs behind his ear. satoru nods his agreement.

“yeah! you’re our girl, you could never make us uncomfortable.” the white headed one says, cunningly petting the cushion again. you smirk to yourself, giving them a faux-reluctant nod before striding to sit. your ass ripples as you step past suguru, and his dick throbs pathetically. as soon as your back touches the couch, satoru’s arm is around your waist to tug your upper half into a lean; then suguru puts a massive paw over your thigh, kneading and stroking the exposed skin gently. they’re both so close, the heavy feeling of their hands on your skin was intoxicating; you could hardly tell where one stopped and the other one began. their scents were so overbearing, suguru’s spicy cinnamon and bourbon contrasted the honeyed vanilla sweetness of satoru so perfectly it had you drunk and losing sight of your master plan before anything had even really happened. but don’t worry, they’ll take very good care of you. you’ve gotten the ball rolling, which is good enough, right?

they pretend to keep their eyes on the tv, heads forward like they don’t notice what the other was doing. satoru’s hand starts to creep under the hemline of your tank top, sinewy fingers long enough to brush against the underside of your breast. you hum softly at the touch, only encouraging the lean man to do it again. suguru watches patiently, waiting for more of your approval. you burrow deeper in his side, pushing your chest out even further. he could practically giggle with excitement at your eagerness. suguru scoots closer, sliding his arm across your lower back to grab handfuls of your thick ass free to fondle thanks to your slutty panties. your weight falls back to the middle, wanting to give geto more of your attention. he smiles at satoru at the action, taking it as a sign of your affection. the other man rolls his eyes, leaning into your side to nuzzle your cheek.

the black haired man does the same into your neck, their hands kneading and rubbing and stroking your skin. you lean your head back against the couch, throwing your arms around them to encourage them further with a blissed out grin of your own.

“our slutty little roommate came dressed like that for a reason.” satoru snickers, bringing his other hand to cradle your jawline, tossing a wink towards his dark haired counterpart.

you hum, prying your eyes open to look at him with a smirk. “course i did…just like you asked me to move in for a reason and sugu gives me back massages for a reason.” you muse, humming as you walk your fingers down their spines. they look at each other with slight surprise, clearly they thought you were unsuspecting of them all this time. you chuckle softly, trailing your digits down their arms to close around their wrists, moving their massive hands to your chest, a boob each. you smirk at them. “everything that’s about to go down is only because i want it to happen, understand?”

you look at gojo first, reveling in his amused expression. he hadn’t expected you to take over and become the boss, but he wasn’t necessarily opposed either. it was sexy to think that he had fallen for your trap, and not the other way around. he’d happily do anything that you wanted, all he wanted was you. you arch your brow and he nods dumbly, nuzzling into your cheek again to show his devotion. no woman had tamed him before, but it wouldn’t be so bad to start now, especially not when the woman in question is his very sexy best friend. you give him a soft smile of approval before turning to the real work, geto.

many women had tried and failed to tame him, and he thought it was pretty funny each and every time. but now here you are, his gorgeous lady best friend, prepared to tell him what to do and exactly how to do it. now that was just plain adorable. you could see see the flames of intrigue flicker in his obsidian eyes, a gaze so intense it made you shrink into satoru a little bit. suguru was being hand gifted the only thing he’s ever wished for, but he would still have it on his terms. he squeezes down harshly on your breast, making you squirm. “cute. we wanted this longer though, so. how about you listen to me instead?”

you scoff, looking down at his hand on you. “don’t act so bold now, sugu. if you wanted to be in charge, you should have acted like it.” you tease, and even gojo smirks behind you. he thought it would be pretty amusing to watch you two battle for dominance, though he’s smart enough to capitalize on an opportunity when he sees one. he pulls you against him, kneading your hips and giving your exposed neck sweet sloppy kisses, all playing into your favor. “maybe i’ll let you give out orders next time–but if you want to be a diva, i’ll just fuck satoru—i’m sure he’s more than enough.”

the mentioned man hums, happy to be in your good graces and your leveraging tool. nothing drives suguru crazier than watching gojo get all the attention. geto gives you a look of dissatisfaction, only pushing you to climb onto your lanky friend’s lap, smiling down at him like an angel from heaven. gojo thought he may die right here. you’re perfect, the way your weight feels in his lap pressing up against his semi is so glorious already he’s afraid he may embarrass himself. his hands find your waist, and he’s looking up to you like he has no idea what to do next. he really is so clueless that it’s adorable. satoru acted like a pussy magnet, which wasn’t necessarily wrong since he is so gorgeous, powerful, and tall, but he never knew how to interact with them—especially since all his fantasies consisted of you, anyway. you smile down at him again and he knows it will be alright, that he’ll do what he does best and learn on the fly—he has to make you feel good.

“take my shirt off, baby.” you coo to him, lifting your arms a bit so he could peel it off. He leans forward unsurely, almost looking to geto for approval before he pinches the fabric and brings it over your head. your tits fall from the little tank top holding them in place, a beautifully heavy chest with pebbled buds wait, calling gojo’s name. his face turns red and he looks up to you for the next order, feeling his semi grow into a full blown problem. geto watches you with narrowed eyes, aching bulge straining against his pants still, and you were only making it worse. he curses himself for being enamored with someone like you, an expert in pushing buttons. you’re his woman whether you know it or not, and he’s only willing to share you with his bestest of friends, even if you were grating on his last nerve.

“do what feels natural, sato.” you breathe out, focused on the way his eyes grow at your permission and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. he’s been fixated on you as long as he can remember, and now it was his time to prove that he was the one for you. he drags your hips closer, wanting you to feel his erection pressing into that tiny thong you had the nerve to put on. you gasp in surprise, though a giggle quickly replaces the sound. you rest your arms on his shoulders, content to twirl locks of snowy white around your fingers. he groans at the sensation, struggling to keep his head on straight already. your body is so warm beneath his hands, so soft and pliable. you duck your head down to kiss him, and he tilts his head up to receive it. it swallows up all his senses, tunneling out everything around him to only focus on your touch, taste, and smell. he’s hungry, eager to prove his worth as a lover, wanting nothing else but to make you feel good. he grabs at your hips to feel you closer, and you indulge by circling your movements in his lap. he moans into your mouth as he feels your tits brush up against his shirt, making him break the kiss and lean back so he could get it off. he does it so quick that you aren’t prepared for his mouth to smack up against yours again, teeth clashing. you giggle again, enchanted by his boyish charm and overwhelming affection for you. it was sweet, and even though he was inexperienced, his kisses were full of passion and heat.

geto had mixed feelings. on one hand, you looked magnificent. your body is like nothing he’s ever seen before, almost to the point of unfairness. no woman could ever compare after this. he’d either have to marry you or be forever disappointed. but, on the other hand, you were wiggling around in gojo’s lap instead of his, and that’s only tolerable for so long. gojo is lucky still, if it were anyone else there would be no tolerance at all. but his patience is wearing thin, especially once you start letting little moans of your own go because of satoru’s big hands massaging your tits and his bulge catching on your puffy clothed clit. you even sound angelic, and it’s pissing him off. this was just a display of your power over them, but suguru wanted to teach a few lessons of his own. he scoots closer, letting his hands mingle around with satoru’s, feeling the dips of your body.

you can feel his touch, easily differentiating between satoru and suguru. your lanky friend’s hands were slimmer and warmer–moving around clumsily. your dark locked counterpart moved with more experience, his fingers thicker and rougher. you smirk at his impatience, clearly not able to be as obedient as dear satoru. you knew it would go like this, with gojo doing anything to please you and geto vying for control himself. you didn’t mind—you know it would push gojo to compete.

geto wastes no time in pulling you off of gojo’s lap and into his own, much to his friend’s disappointment. you give him a pointed look, brow raised and all, but you still wrap your arms around his shoulders the same way you did your other bestie. he smirks up at you, expecting nothing but your compliance once he sees how wet gojo got you. he can tell from the look in your eyes that you don’t have a lot of fight left in you despite the way you act, and that’s perfect for him. he plans to make you brainless, able to remember nothing but him anyway.

“greedy much?” you tease, tossing a look to the pouty white-haired boy watching with contempt. suguru shrugs.

“hardly, just proving that he is not all you need.” he smiles up at you innocently, raking his touch over your thighs. unlike gojo, he knows exactly how to work you up and melt in his hands. gojo harrumphs in the corner of the couch. geto’s brow creeps up even though his head is laxly leaned back against the sofa. he watches you like he owns you, and you love the contrast between the two boys. you roll your eyes and lean down to kiss him anyway, and his lips tell you that the show is over. he gnashes his teeth against your lip, making you squeal and open up for him, wherein he promptly shoves his tongue in to smother yours out. your fingers card through the black tresses cascading over his shoulders and down his back as you hum into his mouth. he’s humming at your eagerness, letting his hand drift from the meaty parts of your hips over to the wet patch on your panties, grinning when you gasp. he works his deft fingers over your heat, and gojo makes a strangled noise as he watches you lewdly suck on geto’s tongue. you let your hips roll into his hand, his other one coming down on your rippling ass. you moan softly, prompting him to spank you again, much to satoru’s enjoyment.

“s’fat, looks so pretty when you do that.” he compliments his friend, shoving out of his pants in anticipation of what comes next. his hand grabs around his proud length, pumping the curved shaft for minimal relief. geto hisses, feeling your hips move desperately towards your own release. he slaps your ass a third time, making you groan out and toss your head back, the picture of a perfect mess.

“gonna cum already?” he tsked, though the smirk on his face betrays him. you nod, tugging on the roots of his hair hard enough to cause a little sting. satoru groans, tired of watching and desperate for any form of aid, but you’re too intoxicating to rush. “then cum.” he demands, stopping his touch.

he knew he had pushed you far enough already, feeling your pelvis stutter against his hand. he watches you come undone, digging pearly white teeth into swollen lips as you dampen your panties another level. he doesn’t give you any type of reprieve before he’s pushing and tugging and arranging you for his preference on the cluttered couch. your brain is foggy already, clit throbbing from satoru’s craze and suguru’s abuse. he’s got you on all fours, face positioned over a huge cock nestled in trimmed white hair.

“be easy on her, satoru.” geto warns as gojo gets to his knees, fisting your hair to get your attention. if you enjoyed suguru’s dominance then he would try some of his own. he directs your mouth over his leaky tip, and you stick out your tongue to encourage him. he nearly shudders just from that, and you whine at the feeling of geto sliding his hands down your ass and thighs with his breath fanning over your shiny hole. you’re gagging on satoru’s length hitting the back of your throat as suguru his fat tongue licks a teasingly slow stripe down your slit. you can’t help but pressed yourself further back into his muscle and force yourself down to the hilt of satoru. he groans loudly, giving you a taste of your own medicine with how he pulls on your hair. he guides you along him, amazed at how much better you feel than his hand. your velvet cheeks feel so wet and warm, it’s amazing he doesn’t cum down your throat instantly. meanwhile geto eats you from the back, sucking on your lips and nudging up against your bud in alternating motions, making your head cloud up with dizziness. that could be from the lack of air you’re able to get in around gojo’s cock stuffing your mouth, tears sliding down your flustered cheeks and drool spilling out around him. he’s whimpering, the sound of him coupled with squelching from both ends had suguru grunting into your folds, letting your sweet essence dribble down his chin. he’s grabbing handfuls of your ass, bruising and smacking the fat. your hands explore the lean expanse that is satoru’s body, muscular thighs keeping you steady and flexing abs making you clench around your other friend’s tongue.

“gah, this—is amazing–fu-huck.” satoru whines, fisting your hair as his cock jumps at the sight of you. you moan your approval, pussy spasming for geto once again without warning, releasing on his face this time. your vision is already blurring, pleasure ripping through you all at once. he’s drunk on the taste of you, sitting upright on his knees as he scoops some of your cum out, coating his fingers with the slick. he may be the slightest bit possessive, but what’s his is gojo’s, and he had to let the other man taste you and get just as pussydrunk as he is. his other hand tugs you off his friend’s dick with a pop, pushing his hardness to the crack of your ass. he leans over you, body like a slab of concrete as he extends his hand to gojo. he leans up immediately, and you’re amazed at the sight of satoru sucking your juice off of suguru’s fingers, moaning slightly at your taste. geto smirks at him, settling back to his original spot. gojo grins widely as he wipes some residual tears from your face.

“she’s so pretty, tell her suguru.” he sings, pushing some hair out of your face as the aforementioned wraps a beefy arm around your waist and pulls you to a sitting position against him. he’s so solid, you can feel how thick and long he is against your back, and it makes you tingle with need like you haven’t came twice already. he pulls you along as he repositions himself, sitting on the couch like it’s intended to be used for with you balanced on his abdomen.

“oh of course, our pretty lady is the only girl i see.” suguru croons, pulling your hair into a ponytail just because he could. you look down at his cock, biting down on your lip at the sight. he was an inch or two shorter than gojo, but made up for it with his thickness. he had veins running along the shaft much like his muscular arms, and a dark tip growing impatient. they were perfect, you knew they would please you in different ways, but you had to have them both.

when satoru gets to his feet and stands in front of you, pale fingers stroking his pretty cock, you knew that was their plan.

geto snakes his hands to your thighs, prying them apart with little resistance from you. he lifts you with this grip, lowering you down all at once on him. he chuckles when you hiss and squirm at the stretch, feeling like a hot knife just gutted you. suguru continues sinking his hips into the cushions below and slamming them back up into you, locking eyes with his best friend eagerly awaiting his turn. you were a whimpering mess, falling back against the man railing you and leaving him responsible for holding you upright as your head finds home on his shoulder.

“if i go easy on you now, you won’t be able to fit us.” suguru explains with a labored breath, your walls so tight he didn’t know if you’d be able to take them anyhow—but he’d be damned if he didn’t try. you nod your understanding, moving your hips to help his strokes hit even deeper. you already feel so full, you can’t imagine what it’s gonna be like when satoru tries to push in. “so fucking wet for your best friends, you’ll take us, won’t you?”

you nod vigorously. it feels like you’re floating, every snap of suguru’s hips slammed his cock impossibly deeper. you knew your little act of control would only last so long, but it worked beautifully. if not for you, they’d probably be jacking off to you for the foreseeable future.

“say it, wanna hear it from our girl’s mouth.” he coos, the tone of his voice so contradictory to what he actually says. it makes your pussy squeeze him anyway.

“wanna take my best friend’s cocks.” you babble, feeling satoru’s hands on your waist again.

“and what else?” suguru groans, almost irritated that your pussy fucked this good and you’ve had the nerve to keep it to yourself all this time. his hand closes around your throat this time, trusting satoru to keep you from falling over. you were so pliable and it was such a treat to hear you talk like this.

“and i’m soaking wet for you both, god–stop teasin’.” you whine, batting your eyes at satoru. he’s sympathetic to your cause, wanting nothing more than to shove his rod deep in you and wonder who makes you feel better, not keen to wait for orders anymore, eager to earn your praise. suguru has your legs spread open perfectly; so while geto snickers from your answer, gojo steps forward and shoves his cock over his best friend’s and into your choking cunt. the feeling takes even suguru aback as you cry out from the stretch. It’s impossible, it’s too much, you feel like they’ll break you in half if they start to move, but the burning subsides, your fingers digging at gojo’s chest when suguru starts to move.

all three of you moan. it’s too good not to, your cunt locking the men against each other, rubbing against your silken walls and the bumpy texture of the other’s ridges was the best way to fuck, they found out. suguru is slow, and prompts gojo to go even slower, feeling you loosen up as the pressure of them in your gut only makes you delirious. you’re so loud, nasty moans and curses coming from your lips as their pace increases, the two men locked in competition to make you and even the other cum first. satoru leans in, pressing his rock hard abdomen against you and deepening his angle. he has to balance himself by bracing his hand on suguru’s other shoulder, both of you close enough to kiss. this was how it was always meant to be, the three of you. he gives you a sloppy kiss, his free hand cupping your cheek to tell you how much this means to him. geto’s caught up in the moment, he tells himself, but everything feels so clear. they were never in competition—you needed them both, and he needed you both, and satoru needed the two of you both. then he feels it, a sloppy kiss meant for him, and he hums in realization. it wasn’t much different from kissing you, though satoru certainly needed the practice. you moan lewdly, the sounds of your cunt being stuffed and their grunts and groans of pleasure provide the soundtrack as they work in tandem to drive you crazy.

“g’na–ngh–cum boys, ohhh~” you cry, legs starting to shake in suguru’s grip. they break their kiss to watch you jerk and jump, fucking into you as deep as their hips will allow. Satoru presses his fingers to your clit, hoping to increase your cute little spasms, but what you do instead is even sexier. you push at his shoulders, a clear liquid gushing and spraying over his abdomen and dripping down your cunt to cover suguru’s balls, leaving them both gaping in amazement.

“that’s a good fucking girl, shit–” suguru mumbles, watching satoru’s face scrunch up in overwhelming pleasure. he doesn’t warn you, holding your hips down to receive all of his cum, the hot feeling making you writhe and moan in his lap to send satoru spurting too. it’s so much, the burning warmth in your gut, their seed mixing together inside of you and gushing out around them both, making such a mess you’re almost embarrassed. satoru slumps forward to kiss you all over, mumbling out thanks for letting them destroy you like this as he lifts you off of suguru, cuddling up with you—mess be damned. you’re panting, sensitive, and dripping but you can’t stop grinning at your success. suguru rolls his eyes at satoru’s childishness, but it really just amuses him. he’d rather you have company as he cleans up the messes anyway, cleaning you and even satoru up before himself. satoru spoons you from behind and suguru shoves himself on the couch to hold you the other way, content at his display of power over the two strongest sorcerers in the room. everyone settles their breathing and into a lull of peace, the only sound in the room was the forgotten movie on the flatscreen, until.

“hey—i didn’t get to eat her outtttttt.” gojo whines, squeezing your body. you laugh, expecting geto to do the same, but he entertains this argument.

“you got your dick sucked—i didn’t get that—”

“we have plenty of time to even the score, shut up and let me sleep before i use my technique to un-fuck you.” you giggle.

#kyleewritesjjk #kylee's kinktober event #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo smut #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto smut #jujutsu kaisen #jjk geto #stsg #suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

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moonstruckme · 1 year

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sirius x reader where reader is remus' roommate at academic and one day she meets sirius when he is visiting remus and they click right away, all flirty and smiles and remus acting all annoyed but is actually happy for them

Hi sweetness, thanks for requesting!

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 555 words

“Hey,” Remus calls as he walks in the door, Sirius in tow. “I brought a friend over, hope that’s alright.”

You barely look up from your laptop. “Mhm, sure.”

“Thanks,” he says. He feels weird asking—you’re amiable enough, and have never given Remus any indication that you care what he does in your apartment. Still, you’re a quiet thing. You generally keep to yourself, which suits Remus just fine, but it makes him feel a bit guilty that he’d forgotten to tell you his loudest, rowdiest friend would be coming to visit.

Sirius’ eyes blow wide as soon as he catches sight of you, and he shoots Remus an open-mouthed look he can interpret without his friend saying anything: You didn’t mention your roommate is hot.

Remus sighs. “Sirius, this is Y/N. Y/N, Sirius.”

You shut your laptop, looking up with a polite smile that only broadens as you take in the boy in front of you. “Hey,” you say, your eyes assessing.

“Hello.” Sirius grins at you. “So, how are you enjoying living with our Moony? Is the snoring getting to you yet?”

Remus huffs indignantly, but neither of you seem to notice.

“Moony?” you ask.

“Old nickname.”

“Right.” You shrug, looking bored. “Remus is a great roommate. He’s clean, quiet, not a creep. Checks all my boxes.”

Remus grins proudly (though really, that seems like a fairly low bar), but Sirius shakes his head in disbelief. “Seems like she’s too nice to you, Moons,” he says solemnly, speaking apparently to Remus but with his attention still solely on you. “Who’s being mean to you when I’m not around to do it?”

You cock an eyebrow. “Sounds like he needs to be meaner to you.”

Sirius grins. “Ah, he sure does try, but unfortunately there’s not much to say. I’m impervious to insult.”

Remus is beginning to feel like a piece in a game in which he’s not expected to participate. “Are you sure about that?” he asks innocently. “Because I seem to recall an event during fifth year—”

“Although I have to give it to him.” Sirius rushes to speak over Remus, somehow still maintaining a casual tone. “He definitely knows how to pick the most gorgeous friends, doesn’t he?”

Remus is surprised at how easily you rise to meet Sirius’ bravado, not even the faintest blush coming to your cheeks as you return his smile. “Seems like it.”

Remus rolls his eyes at the two of you, though he has to admit he’s immensely entertained. “Y/N,” he says, feigning reluctance, “Sirius and I were going to stop by the pub down the road, would you like to join us?”

“Sure.” You stand, shooting Remus a smile sweeter than anything you’ve shown Sirius thus far. “That sounds great, thanks.”

Sirius almost knocks Remus over in his rush to occupy your attention again. “Excellent! Let me guess, you’re a cider girl?”

You roll your eyes at him, brushing your shoulder against his as you pass and letting him trail after you like a puppy. “Guess you’ll have to buy me one and find out.”

“Enticing.” Sirius’ grin turns wolfish. “I don’t mind a bit of mystery.”

Remus heaves a sigh, following the two of you out of the apartment and locking up. He suspects he’s in for a night of third-wheeling.

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x fem!reader #roommate!remus #remus lupin #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fic #sirius black oneshot #sirius black one shot #sirius black imagine #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black drabble #sirius black scenario #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #marauders fandom

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utterlyazriel · 8 months

Text

whom the shadows sing for —(and the thief's echoing hymn)

a/n: eek not a request but an idea that wouldn't leave me alone! thus... we embark on a mulan-esque story that i hope u will enjoy <3 big thank you's to @strangerstilinski who listened and helped immensely as i whittled a hunky idea down to a plot

word count: 2.9k

synopsis: Someone in the Illryians Mountains has been making a name for themselves— a bastard like Azriel and his brothers, ruffling the feathers of a war camp's Lords. But they seem to have no loyalty to the fighting legion, or much to anyone for that matter. fem!reader

— CHAPTER ONE :: STRANGERS

Frost was everywhere.

Despite all the eerie memories that tainted them, the Illyrian Mountains were hauntingly beautiful, even Azriel could admit that.

Pine trees stretched up tall, their timber trunks hidden beneath the snow-leaden branches. It was a sea of swirling frost. Snowflakes eddied down from the frozen sky, a soft blanket of white draped across the landscape.

He was sure that some, maybe the likes of Feyre and her artist's eye, could see that beauty easier than he could.

Beautiful, Azriel thought bitterly, but fucking freezing.

Normally, dealing with the likes of the war camps that riddled these mountains was left to Cassian. He had that raucous, fiery way about him that was far better suited to it. Enough pride to challenge the warriors and more than enough eager attitude to back his taunts if need be.

But Cassian was currently very much occupied— and highly unsuited to crack the whip against some rowdy Illyrians in his current state.

Azriel couldn't help the smile at the thought of when he'd last seen his brother.

Freshly mated Cassian looked as though he had tiny hearts circling around his head at all times. He resembled a puppy following his nose, always that wicked grin on his face as he trailed after Nesta. His adoration was impossible to miss.

Cassian had more than earned the time off. He deserved to celebrate properly, to have a couple weeks with no badgering worries, with no bickering Illyrian warriors to deal with (beyond his usual two).

So, as a mating gift to his brother —and partially to escape a house filled with intolerably mated couples— Azriel had taken over his duty temporarily. To oversee the war camps he detested so much.

Today, he was to investigate the rumoured stirrings amongst the camps and assess the level of threat it posed. More often than not, these sorts of stirrings were simply whispers of rebellion but nothing more.

There was an easy fix; a visit from one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors in history, or even from Rhys himself. It always made the Illyrians a little nervous and those whispers of a coup would sweep away with the wind in a matter of time.

This time, however, the network of spies that operated under Azriel had not come back spinning such rumours.

Instead, there was talk of Lords with ruffled feathers. Lords with bruised egos due to a single bastard warrior, rising in the ranks and not playing by the rules.

The familiarity of the situation was almost too ironic, Azriel thought. He had half a mind to tell Rhys what he had learned and leave them to it. Cauldron knew these brutal camps needed a bastard to challenge their ways from time to time.

But still, there was always the potential for such a warrior to pose a threat in the future. Azriel could not leave a possible danger to brew. No stone left unturned.

The snow beneath his boots was beginning to melt.

He had been standing in the cold and peering up at the war camp ahead, barely seen through the heavy snow falling, for too long now. Snow was gathering on his wings, tendrils of ice shooting through their sensitive membrane. Find the bastard.

Shaking off the snow, he began to walk.

—

Gods forsaken males and their egos.

The bone in your forearm ached, having taken the brunt of your initial fall in the mud. It's covered in it too, the muck of the ground that always seemed to linger. Always a layer of dirt beneath your fingernails. Truly, one of the many incredible appeals of the Illyrian mountains was never actually being clean.

You'd probably hate it more— if it didn't do such a good job of masking unwanted scents.

But right now with a jagged cut that tears up your left arm, all the way to the elbow, you're cursing the mud. It's likely festering with uncountable grim diseases. You'll have to flush the wound to properly clean it before it begins to heal.

That means water. That means energy that you don't particularly feel like summoning to fetch it. You cast your glance to the window.

Outside, the Mother's Kiss howls loudly.

The southerly chilled wind current that Illyrians don such a precious name is quite fitting for their backward ways — to expect a kiss from your mother to have such a sting on the face.

Tonight, the current seems particularly fierce. The windows of your shelter rattle in warning. A storm had blown through camp rather unexpectedly and you'd caught the worst of it, tangled up in a snarling fest against Brudam.

Brudam, who is responsible for the current state of your arm. Your lip curls at the mere thought of the arrogant male. Your wings bunch up tightly and you huff quietly to nobody.

He'd caught wind of the broth you had made that had filled the stomach of three ravenous bastards in the camp. It had been just enough to keep them on their feet. Tonight, you know that one hot meal might very well be the difference that helps them survive the night.

But Illyrians are a tough breed— and they don't take kindly to people giving handouts, as Brudam had put it.

You preferred the term leveling the playing field.

As if Brudam and his Lord father had ever experienced to ache of starvation. Ever had to sleep in the snow with nothing but their own wings for warmth against a blizzard.

Another deep pain twinges in your arm and you hiss, drawn out of your thoughts. If you have to pick your wins, you can at least admit you're glad he had only found out about the broth— and had seemed none the wiser to the healing tonics you were slipping the freshly-clipped girls.

It ached to see them and their quivering wings. The way the muscles in their backs buckled when they tried to spread their wings, a cut too deep into the wrong nerve. It ached to see it, yes, but beneath that pain was an ocean of bitter and furious fire.

But your righteous anger would not help these girls.

You were not the most proficient healer and the tonics you were attempting... it was hard to say if they would make any difference in saving any females' wings.

You were gathering knowledge as best you could though, scraping together herbs that scarcely grew in the frozen climate. It was a poor imitation of something that might work.

Whether it would be enough... that was up to the Mother. But you had to try.

You assess the wound on your arm once more, wondering about the reserve of water you had in your small hut— whether you could both clean your wound and have enough to hydrate.

Another glance out at the wintry snowscape outside. You grimaced. If you didn't, you would have to bear the blistering chill of the Mother's Kiss to get more.

Weariness weighs on your bones. You hadn't been prepared for the fight, hence your almost embarrassing injury, and it drained you more than you expected.

You stand with a sigh and drag your feet toward the tiny cauldron filled with melted snow collected earlier in the day. It hangs over the fireplace, the embers within long since snuffed out. Your motion stirs them up.

For a moment, you stare into the fireplace. The water in the cauldron shimmers. The shelter creaks around you, bending in the wind.

It's covered in soot, marred by the flames that usually lick it from beneath it. The lip of it, however, is still clean enough to see your own reflection. You peer into it.

And in that reflection, you find a tall figure with massive wings looming above their shoulders standing behind you.

Your heart spasms in shock and you have to swallow your gasp of surprise. Your eyes dart up, frantically hunting for a weapon. You grab the closest object you can, your hand closing around a kitchen fork. And before they get the chance, you twist and lunge, arm raised.

The floorboards groan as your boots slam into them, darting forward to attack. But the male dodges you easily, your strike passing through empty air.

You don't stop, turning and striking for him once again. The male sways back again easily to avoid your swing and you scowl.

Quickly feigning one way, you watch as his hands, weaponless, move to defend his gut — and you change direction, fast. Neck exposed, you snarl as you sink the fork deep into his shoulder.

The male hisses in pain.

You falter for a moment at the noise but it's a mistake. His hands move so fast you barely see them, gripping your wrist that holds the fork and twisting it down to the ground, immobilising you from using it.

You snarl again and tug against him fruitlessly. A swell of panic begins to rise within you as you tug again, again, again. His hold doesn't falter.

"Stop," The male commands you quietly.

This time when you tug, he opens his fingers and you fly back onto your ass, wings flaring out a moment too late to catch yourself.

You expect him to trudge forward, to beat an attack down on you now that you're less defended, but he doesn't move from his spot.

In fact, you realise as you stare at him, cheat heaving, he hasn't attacked you at all.

His weapons, which there are many of them, stay strapped to his side, glittering against the snow's reflected light. You spot the siphon on his hand, a churning sapphire colour — and clock the matching one on his other hand.

This was not just any Illyrian warrior in your home.

Faintly, your panic subsides as you realise that if this male meant to hurt you —to kill you— he very well could have done so by now.

You let your eyes trail up, taking in the face so hidden in shadow, and recognize that the darkness swirling around him is not ordinary shadow.

The revelation has you sitting up a bit straighter, the bindings around your chest pulling tight. You swallow, your throat suddenly dry.

What do you say to one of the most powerful Illyrian warriors in history —one who served on Rhysand's inner circle, friend of the High Lord of the Night Court— when you've just stabbed him with a fork?

As if your thought had reminded him, the male —Azriel, you know his name to be— shifts and reaches for the utensil still sticking out of his shoulder. He yanks it out without a noise of complaint.

Then he says, "Considering your choice of weapon, it's no surprise Brudam cut up your arm."

You scowl at him but at a closer look, you can see that his expression isn't condescending. No, with his raised brows, he almost looks... impressed.

"I wasn't expecting visitors." You bite back defensively.

Azriel's eyes dance with amusement. He throws the fork onto your table with a clatter. "That's how you greet visitors?"

"Uninvited ones, yes."

His amusement fades, the planes of his face shadowed and yet still handsome. Like most Illyrians, there's this incomprehensible sense of elegance to him, an alluring pull tied to his very demeanor.

But looking at him now, even in the dimness of your shelter, you could see Azriel went beyond to type of beauty that usual Illyrians had. An unparalleled grace, an unmatched Adonis.

He is the most beautiful male you had ever seen—and you had just stabbed him with a fork.

"Sorry," You mutter eventually when he doesn't say anything.

You shift onto your knees to stand, your hand coming to cup beneath your elbow— the ache of the injury had begun to bleed back in now that you weren't focused on fighting off an intruder.

"You're forgiven." He says. You can see lightly, through the dimming light, the faint blood on his neck you've caused.

"You fight well," He comments, with the air of a compliment. Something like amusement is in his eyes when he says, "Even with your unusual choice of weapon."

You glare at him as you climb to your feet and all but collapse into a chair. You don't even have another to offer to him. Buried beneath your leathers, your chest aches in pain — a reminder that it's been bound for far too long. You ignore it and tilt your chin towards him.

"Why are you here?"

You're actually sure that even if you offered Azriel a chair he wouldn't take it, given how stiffly he stands before you. He takes a moment to answer, his gaze flitting around the small room you both stand in. Calculating, categorizing.

"There were rumours of a warrior turning up trouble here."

He fixes his hazel-eyed gaze on you. You steel yourself beneath it. "A couple days in your camp and it became clear who the outlier was."

A couple days? For some reason, you can't believe that he's been surveying this place without detection from anyone. Another glance at his shadows, the dark masses that hang around his shoulders, and you can believe it a little more.

Besides, it's hardly as though the Lords would deign to tell a bastard like you anything important.

You clench your jaw but don't say anything.

"Brudam mentioned you feeding some warriors." Azriel continues, his tone unreadable. Though something, you couldn't tell what, glittered in his eyes. "Not very in the spirit of Illyrians."

You scowl at him again. Even if he had once faced these conditions before, you wondered if his time away, spent Cauldron knows where, had softened his memory.

"It's not against any law."

"No, it isn't," Azriel says. His eyes narrow. "But making healing tonics without a Healer's jurisdiction and selling them to young females is."

Your heart stops for just a moment. How could he know that? The last batch you had dropped off had been over a month ago.

Without thinking you snarl back, "I'm not selling them, you prick."

Something blooms on Azriel's face, surprise and a hint of smugness.

Your mouth snaps shut as you realise what you've done. You curse yourself. Slumping back in your chair, your wings sag with you and you let them droop onto the floor, uncaring. He could very well be here to kill you, given the knowledge of what you had just admitted.

For a long moment, there's just silence.

You stare at the floor and wonder which version of the High Lord is true; the Court of Nightmares whose power ripples through these camps and keeps them in line. Or the rumours of a softer side, a dreamer.

You wonder, more importantly, which of those this male before you is friends with.

Something in the floor creaks when Azriel finally moves. He crosses the room swiftly to the fireplace and gathers two logs from the stack of firewood beside it, tossing them onto the pile of ash.

You watch, perturbed, as he hunches over the fireplace for a quiet minute— and when he pulls back, a small flame is burning on the wood. It dances on the log, entrancing and amber-coloured.

Heat begins to fill the room. You pick your wings up and stretch them towards it, grateful for how they begin to warm. You hadn't quite realised the extent of your chill until right now.

It's such a kindness that hasn't been shown to you in many years. Surprise and silent gratitude bloom in your chest.

Azriel turns back to face you. You school your surprise away.

"What's your name?" He asks, his voice gruff.

It's been a while since anyone asked that either. Bastard. Mongrel. Imposter. There are a thousand other words that have become your name whilst growing up here.

You can't tell him your name. In the same way you can't tell anyone here your real name without revealing too much about yourself.

So you shorten it and tell him that instead.

Azriel nods. Doesn't repeat it, doesn't blink at your hesitance. Instead, he just says, "Like I said, you fight well. You could be better though."

You frown at the backhanded compliment, something in you sneering at the jab at your fighting skills. Worse, you know he's right.

If you had weapons suited to your size, exercises that focused on your agility more than your brute strength... There's a good reason you have to work twice as hard as every other warrior in camp.

Azriel looks at your arm, no longer bleeding and beginning to stitch itself up. Shit, you really need to clean that first.

"Clean that and get a good night's rest." He orders, not meanly. Then he crosses the space of your shelter in a few paces of his long legs, heading for the door.

"You—" The question dares to come out of you. "You're not going to turn me in?"

Azriel pauses, one hand, one scarred hand you can now see with the fire going, on the door. So, the rumours of that were true.

"No," He says lowly. He sees you staring, and as if on command, the shadows swirling around his shoulders dart down to cover his hands. They and the doorknob in his hand disappear from sight completely.

You evade your eyes back up to his hauntingly beautiful face. His expression is stony, unreadable. He stares at you for a long moment, the dancing fire reflected in his hazel eyes.

"I'm going to train you."

[NEXT PART: ALLIES]

#ahhhh!!! i'm very excited for this one!!#pray i can do it justice !!#azriel #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger x you #azriel fic

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technically-a-kiwi · 5 months

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And so the cosmic AU story continues, this time focusing on the characters

So like I said on previous post, Peppino and The Noise are one of the many cosmic duos of the cosmic realm and have the immense responsability of watching over several universes, of course thankfully watching over universes isn't a full time job and both have a part time job in the cosmic realm.

Peppino continues his job as a pizzamaker, this time being completly free of debt and only doing it out of passion.

Technically, cosmic entities don't fuel from food so eating is not nececary .But they don't care, they love Peppino's pizzas and Peppino loves making pizzas so everybody wins

As for The Noise, he remains being a TV host, exept due to now being a cosmic entity, his chanel is now only broadcasted in the cosmic realm, on top of not being able to broadcast outside the cosmic realm, he isn't allowed to diverge into any other type of media like movies, comic series etc, to make sure his image doesn't slip pass the cosmic realm. And so by being a TV host that exclusively broadcasts in the cosmic realm, The Noise is litteraly the only source of entertainment you could possibly find in the entire realm.

If you dare say outloud that you dislike his show, The Noise will make sure you'll have an "actual reason" for you to dislike his show, if you know what I mean

Got nothin much to say now... Hum... Oh ! Yeah ! I haven't quite developed on our cosmic duo nor how they are as a cosmic entity have I ? Well better late then never right x) ?

For starters, Peppino.

As a cosmic entity, Peppino is (surprisingly) quite peaceful and mostly stays in his pizzeria in the cosmic realm, only interacting with his clients and occasionaly with Gustavo.

When first turning into a cosmic entity, it screwed him up quite a lot, not only did he have to process his actual death, he also had to process being in a whole new body with immense powers and brand new responsibilities he never asked for. This gave him a whole existencial crisis making him loose most of his sanity and making him into an even bigger lunatic then usual, thankfully overtime he reached to other cosmic entities who then helped him overcome his dread, slowly getting better control over his stress and bipolarity allowing to partially regain a sense of control and stability (yeah I know it's a little edgy but hey the whole AU itself is far-fetched so who cares at this point). Now he enjoys just taking things slow and appreciate the little things, such as making pizzas for others, taking naps in some deserted pastures and stargazing on top of his roof. He still has a long way to go to fully regain his sanity and stability, but the cosmic court considers his state is good enough to be handled the fate of several universes.

During his shift as a cosmic duo. Peppino is quite efficient, miraculously despite his stress and instability he always gets the job done, he does make mistakes here and there such as not being able to keep a low-profile at all or purposly exposing himself to others which is something cosmic entities must avoid at all cost.

Now bring The Noise

As a cosmic entity, The Noise is a freaking menace, fully embracing his new title of cosmic entity to mess up with people around the multiverse, using his new powers to satisfy his urge of being the ultimate prankster, one might say he his the Loki of the cosmic realm. He mostly gets away with anything he does due to the cosmic court being a huge fan of his show (much to every other cosmic entities displeasure).

When first turning into a cosmic entity, The Noise was confused on why he respawn with such a different look. As soon as he learned he had the powers of a cosmic entity, The Noise started pranking people around the multiverse, he seaked the title of ultimate prankster and for that neaded notoriety, thus The Noise's Nebula Show was born ! As time went on his channel became less of a prank channel and more of an entertaining channel. The Noise started doing other stuff on the side out of curiosity which he found quite pleasant and directly incorporated those things in his channel,slowly becoming more diversed and interesting, using his maniac and cocky nature to become the most charismatic, lively (and only) TV host the cosmic realm has ever seen. Due to The Noise originating from the same universe as cosmic Peppino, they got paired up to become a cosmic duo, much to The Noise's displeasure, it was hard enough to bear the existance of that potato looking head when he was in the same room as him, and now he has to WORK WITH HIM ? He knew such pairing would ultimatly lead to disaster, but he did it anyway, after all he's not gonna say no to having the front sit at seing Peppino's misery and struggles.

During his shift as a cosmic duo. The Noise barely does anything, he usualy stays in the back while smoking a cigar and lets Peppino do the job, he's not going to do any kind of rescuing, that would deteriorate his status of ultimate prankster! In the rare cases where his presence is absolutly needed, he solve the problem in the most ridiculous or incovinente way possible, usualy rushing it, he doesn't really care about others safety, as long as he get's the job done that's all that matters to him.

And here it is y'all ! Truly sorry if my sentences makes no sense whatsoever, I did this post very late at night like an idiot and I'm running out of water and motivation x)

Like the last post if you have any kind of question don't hesitate to ask me I'll be glad to answer all of them.

Now I'll give u some art I didn't know where to put in the post, enjoy

#pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #the noise #pizza tower au #cosmic au

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cottonlemonade · 4 months

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can i have a menu a with a soda and dorayaki and sit next to oikawa!!!

Keeping Your Enemy Close

word count: 1460 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: rival!Oikawa x chubby!Reader (feat. Seijoh 4)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: fluffy, school festival with rival Oikawa

“Do you want to know what I think?”

“No.”

“But-”

“Never, actually.”

Oikawa pouted, “Iwa-chan.” and then looked to Makki and Mattsun who immediately developed an immense interest in their shoes and surroundings. The four third years were busy leaning against a rickety folding table underneath a banner advertising the volleyball club, but even though many girls came over to check it out, boys seemed to make a wide swerve around them. They had only gotten three possible new applicants thus far.

“What do you think, Oikawa-san?”

The boys groaned when, with a wide smile and a flourish, Oikawa turned to yet another girl who had asked. She was nervously kneading her hands and blushing furiously. They knew her as a new addition to his fanclub, but to be honest they started to blend together for the other three. All gorgeous and leggy, she was definitely the captain’s usual type. Oikawa leaned in to whisper something in her ear they luckily couldn’t hear, then the girl gasped quietly and nodded before linking her arm with her friend and wandering off, throwing longing gazes over her shoulder at the setter, who waved after her.

“I think I’ll give it another week and then I’ll ask her out.”, he said, half to himself, half to his friends who quite frankly, couldn’t care less.

But a loud scoff came from their left and the boys turned to see their chubby class president with folded arms next to a stall handing out flyers.

“Something the matter, y/n-chan?”, Oikawa asked sweetly.

“Don’t call me that.”, you said automatically but the boy only grinned and regarded you with his signature teasing gaze.

“But you seem to like it, hm? Y/n-chan~ Now, what’s wrong?”

You clutched the flyers in your hands tighter in an attempt to control your breathing. “I just pity her, that’s all.”, you said after calming your heart a bit.

“Hm? Is that so? Are you sure it’s not because you want to go out with me?”

You knew you would get in trouble if someone reported you smacking him over the head with the flyers - again. So you resorted to glaring menacingly.

Because you didn’t have an answer.

Because you wanted nothing more, actually, than to have Oikawa Tooru notice you like that and ask you out.

But you would never tell him.

Instead you changed the subject and focused on the only thing that grounded your sanity.

“Tuck in your shirt before I write you up.”

Oikawa sighed and did as he was told, making very sure to slightly lift the shirt first to give you a glimpse of his toned stomach. He smirked when your lips parted slightly at the sight.

“So how about it, y/n-chan?”, he asked while carefully straightening out his uniform, “Should I take you out for a date? We could go to a park, maybe hold hands if you're nice to me and if you’re really nice to me I might even consider giving you a kiss or two.” He winked. He enjoyed this game way too much.

Iwaizumi, Mattsun and Makki had stepped aside, getting out of the way of your wrath.

“I would never.”, you held tighter onto the flyers for support, hoping your voice wouldn’t fail you as you went on, “I would never go out with someone as vain and arrogant and immature as you. You’re nothing but a volleyball obsessed gymnasium-dweller who happened to have slightly above average looks.”

Oikawa took that personally. He only stared wide eyed as you stomped away.

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he turned to Mattsun as he shrugged, ”Well at least she thinks you’re handsome.”

Iwaizumi frowned, “That’s what you got from that?”

Oikawa knew you didn’t mean it. At this point, he could tell the difference between someone genuinely despising his guts and someone who was only trying to hide their true feelings. To be honest, you weren’t on his mind outside of school and even then he mostly drifted off while you made announcements in front of the class. To him you were just there, clearly in denial about your crush on him because of course he felt your eyes on him when you thought he wasn’t looking. Maybe he would go out with you, he thought. If only to prove a point. He wanted you to be putty in his hands and confess that you were into him, just so he could go a day without getting written up for things like untucking his shirt or kissing behind the gym.

He watched you weave your way through the masses of students and parents, all happily chattering and checking out the different offers from the stands at the school festival. And making up his mind, he went after you.

He found you in an empty classroom, carefully putting some kind of announcement on the blackboard, your hand steady, writing neat and precise.

“Can I talk to you for a moment, y/n-chan?”

He heard you sigh before turning to him.

“What is it?”

He stepped in, closing the door behind him to mute the distant voices of students hurrying through the corridors.

Leaning against the only exit, arms crossed in front of his chest, he said, “I wasn’t kidding, you know. About taking you on a date.”

You made some kind of sound that was probably supposed to be a scathing one but instead came out as a squeaky sort of cough. Pushing off the door he swaggered over to you until he was standing right behind you. You hadn’t looked at him yet.

“Hm? Y/n? What do you say? Wanna go on a date with me?”

His voice was low and sweet - he knew this particular tone usually made his girlfriends melt and he was glad to see that it worked on you as well. He extended a hand to half trap you between him and the blackboard for good measure. Goosebumps formed on your neck and when you finally turned around to him, there was a very distinct blush dusting your cheeks in stark contrast to your sour expression, the desperate attempt of returning his sweetness with disgust.

“Stop it, Oikawa-san.”

“Or what?” He leaned down to meet your eyes, leaving only two or three handwidths between your face and his. He could smell your shampoo. It was a pleasant scent, eucalyptus maybe.

When you didn’t say anything but the pink on your cheeks turned a deeper shade he leaned in further. He felt your shaky shallow breath on his skin.

When he didn’t budge, you closed your eyes and… seemed to wait.

Oikawa couldn’t help it and chuckled. Your eyes shot open and you watched as he lowered his head before throwing it back in full on laughter.

“I knew it! I knew it, y/n-chan.”, he sing-songed, not moving away, “Next time you write me up just-“

He was cut off but your lips on his. It was nothing more than a quick peck but it definitely shut him up.

You must have worn some kind of lip gloss or chapstick - the kiss left a faintly fruity taste behind.

He blinked. What was that?

And you were about to duck away when his free hand held you by your waist and he leaned in for a second kiss, catching you by surprise this time. It was again a sweet, innocent kind of kiss, only gently touching the other’s lips. When he moved away he searched your eyes for a moment and you held your breath when he went for a third. Closing his eyes, he really let himself get a feel and sense for you. The hand previously laid against the blackboard now cupped your cheek to draw you closer. He swiped his tongue against your lower lips and gently pushed into your mouth. He tasted the tangerine ramune that stood next to your notes on the teacher’s desk. This didn’t make any sense. It was not the tangerine that made him dizzy. You were… addictive. How?

Propelled by some unknown bravery your hands ran through his hair, drawing an involuntary hum from deep in his throat. His large hand on your waist squeezed and he moved in closer, needing to feel more. But before he could conduct further studies you pushed him away, panting slightly - your lips reddened and hair a little disheveled. He was too stunned to stop you when you weaseled out of his arms and ran out the door.

“Oikawa-san?”, he heard a familiar voice call from the corridor, “Oh, Oikawa-san, there you are. Do you want to come have some lunch with me?”

It was the girl from earlier. “Coming.”, he said quietly, absentmindedly and followed her, still tasting tangerines.

a/n: thank you so so much for your request! This one got so away from me. I hope you enjoyed it tho 🌟

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cringefailvox · 8 months

Text

someone FINALLY getting under alastor's skin in ep 5 was so immensely gratifying. both lucifer and husk unsettle him in different ways and both serve to destabilize alastor's untouchable aura, which is SO good and necessary after all the buildup thus far. i also really enjoyed how he was clearly unhappy with mimzy at the end too—this really just was an ep full of people making him genuinely angry and it was so fucking delicious

#i need to tie him into knots and wring him out like a dish towel #alastor #mimzy #lucifer #husker #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin lucifer #og

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sssarrrra · 2 months

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𝗔𝗺𝗲𝗻𝗼𝗴𝗼𝘇𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗶𝘀: 𝗙𝘆𝗼𝗱𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗗𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗽𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗲𝘁 𝗼𝗿 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗗𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝗚𝗼𝗱 (𝗯𝘀𝗱 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝟭𝟭𝟱–𝟭𝟭𝟳)

It's interesting how Fyodor positions himself towards Fukuchi, whom he calls a “Devine being”. Fukuchi or Amenogozen, as he is now, is the closest thing to “God” we can have on earth. And Fyodor is absolutely thrilled to control this DIY Devine Bring. Is it a blasphemy? Maybe. But let's look at what Amenogozen is.

How did Fukuchi turn into him? What happened to Ouchi's mind to make him act like he does now?

Amenogozen is Fukuchi's desire to get rid of suffering amplified. Ouchi used to see the whole world's agony as his own. Now he is a literal embodiment of everyone's pain, big or small.

Amenogozen has only one instinct – to turn everyone into bubbles and store them inside himself. He isn't just killing them, he “eats” their souls as well. When Fukuchi erases a person in this way, all of their suffering becomes his (along with their memories and identity), thus giving their souls piece.

Amenogozen isn't explicitly hateful or cruel, but he is also far from human. He seemed to genuinely empathize with Teruko and, especially, Kunikida, during his last moments. He saw their anguish, sensed it (Teruko's grief, Kunikida's fear along with wounds). And Devine being thought he would help them. He would erase their suffering.

This is what Amenogozen sees as his mission: to kill every person, swallow their pain and “save” them by turning them into pure emptiness (in a cloud of bubbles, yes).

Gozen grew to respect Kunikida during their brief interaction. He even acknowledged that Doppo's ideas can transcend death itself. And yet, Fukuchi still decides to kill him. Because he sees “death” as the kindest option for every living being.

It seems like Ouchi came to this decision during his transformation. For us, it all happened in a few seconds, but for him, it probably lasted for centuries. He travelled through time and space indefinitely, until he became a Singularity. From outside it looked like a brief flash of light, but it continued for eternity in his mind.

Off-screen, Fukuchi went through a psychological torture like no other. He was forced to observe everything that happened to humanity, while being outside time and space, unable to do anything. Of course, he saw an immense amount of pain history is filled with.

Ouchi watched it unfold in front of his eyes, like a helpless disembodied ghost, unable to die or let go. He, who thought of himself as a warrior, was forced to be a bystander to everyone's agony. It all continued indefinitely and was extremely traumatic. Eventually, Fukuchi discarded what was left of his humanity and became “God” to survive seeing all the visions of pain.

As a result, suffering became the only focus of his broken mind.

I think this what Dostoevsky has hoped for. Because he came to the same conclusion after living for centuries. “Death is the ultimate salvation, and nothing else can help”. So Fyodor hijacked Fukuchi into the same mindset by overloading his brain with the images of agony.

Now, Amenogozen sees pain as life. They are inseparable from each other from his view point. So his goal transforms into erasing all suffering, by erasing all life on Earth. Fukuchi wants to be the one who bares the whole world's agony, while everyone's soul rests peacefully within him in the blissful oblivion.

Amenogozen is a twisted, distorted caricature of Jesus. He takes on everyone's pain by killing them. It's a befitting path for an ex-war criminal.

And what about Fyodor? Does he call Amenogozen “devine” just because of his immense power? Dostoy certainly enjoys watching Yokohama being cut into pieces. But that's not only it.

Fyodor nicknamed his new weapon "Devine power" based on his philosophy about God.

Fukuchi isn't entirely gone. His motivation is what drives Amenogozen forward. Singularity craves to erase every source of pain / life, so much that he is ready to become a sinner, a monster, an empty void.

Just like Fukuchi in the past Gozen uses his body until he doesn't resemble a human anymore.

Ouchi lost his sanity due to his immense desire to free people from Samsara. Now he is a literal monster, but he is still trying to help and "save" everyone from pain, albeit in a twisted brutal way.

And this what makes him so close to a “devine power”.

Because to Dostoevsky, God is someone who encapsulates everyone's pain, carries everyone's burden. Just like what Fyodor tries to do as his loyal servant.

Despite this, I think Fyodor calls Amenogozen “God” ironically. He doesn't see Fukuchi as such, but he “compliments” him for trying. Because Dostoevsky realizes how truly selfish this newly formed “Devine being” is.

Before everyone's salvation, Amenogozen desires oblivion. He wants to disappear. But, just like Fukuchi, he can't do that, until his mission is entirely complete.

Amenogozen sees everyone's pain as his own. So he erases it repeatedly, as if it can save him. He can't distinguish his own soul from everyone else's, so he kills himself again and again through others, but still remains alive.

Amenogozen seeks relief through self-distraction, something to what Dostoevsky relates too much.

And Fyodor smiles because he knows: real God is only yet to arrive.

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terukotime · 6 days

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allow me to be super delulu for a second

if either Eden or Ace are the actual killer, that would mean one of them would be saying their secret quotes in the next coming episodes. but...do we really feel like the situation warrants them saying what their quotes are?

Ace's is: "I don't know what to do with myself anymore."

Eden's is: "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try."

Ace's feels a little strange to say in the trial. we're very close to unearthing the real culprit, and if Ace really is the killer, when would he say that? immediately upon being found out? the quote itself has their air of melancholy and defeatism, and even at his lowest, we know Ace isn't someone to concede or go down without a fight. and if he knows he's about to die, what's the point in saying "I don't know what to do with myself anymore" when he's not even going go be alive in the next few moments? He WON'T be doing anything with himself anymore, he'll be dead.

Eden's, while not as strange of a thing to say as Ace, is also kind of peculiar. when would she say it? while she's admitting to the murder? if Eden did it, sure, it's believable that she'd feel some regret, but the setup to her being the killer feels very odd now that we've gone through this big emotional moment between her and Teruko. honestly, after all that, if Eden really is the killer, i'd be more inclined to believe she WOULDN'T regret killing Arei. it'd seem like her crying and pleading was all just emotional manipulation. it also seems strange to me that Eden would have already had it in mind to kill Arei when she and Teruko found Ace, and took the opportunity to steal the tape to carry it out. i could definitely be wrong, and please correct me if i am, but i think the attempted murder was the same day as what happened with Eden and Arturo? honestly, even if it wasn't, it just feels weird to me that Eden would find some way to disguise her handwriting, set up a murder method even more elaborate than Nico's original version, and then do the whole trial pleading and sobbing for people to believe she didn't kill her and actually have regretted her actions. that shit is so premeditated that everything Eden has done thus far feels like immense emotional manipulation. while that could still be possible...it's not really that satisfying, i'd say. who knows, maybe i'm in severe denial, but i just think this characterization of Eden would be really weird. it would feel less like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked turned out to be awful", and more like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked has made a 180° in their personality without any foreshadowing of having a darker side to them".

and i'm just still really hung up on Hu. her secret quote, "I want to pay for what I've done. But even then, I still want to live." makes total sense in the context of this trial, especially after her secret reveal. and while it's pretty unlikely she took the tape from the gym, there's no guarantee that the person who took the tape at the time HAS to be the murderer. i'm just still hung up on the fact that it feels like there needs to be one last, big twist before the true killer is revealed. a moment where Teruko comes to her realization and the culprit is selected before she makes any actual accusation against them. we already knew Eden and Ace would be the ones Teruko was going to interrogate in the selection because of her explanation. just given how drdt has been written thus far, i feel like they wouldn't hand the potential answer to us like that so easily. like we wouldn't get to the point of selecting the culprit with the story already telling us it can only be one of two suspects.

it's entirely possible that i'm just coping and am refusing to accept that one of my favorite characters is actually the culprit. or that drdt could have a trial that isn't greatly written. it's totally fine if i'm wrong and Eden or Ace really is the killer, i definitely won't enjoy it much but it's not my story, nor would it completely make me drop drdt.

i honestly just needed to rant LMAO. this episode left me with a LOT of feelings.

#drdt #danganronpa despair time #despair time #drdt spoilers #danganronpa despair time spoilers #despair time spoilers #drdt chapter 2 part 2 #but can eden be innocent pretty please #i feel like it'd be so much more interesting if she lived but started her distrust arc #because everyone was accusing her #I WANT TERUKO TO START TRUSTING MORE WHILE EDEN STARTS DISTRUSTING MORE GODDAMMIT!!!#LET THEM PARALLEL EACH OTHER!!! GRRRRRR #eden tobisa #ace markey #hu jing

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rinrinx2 · 2 years

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Can you do smut Rindou x reader when she teased him so much when he was on work that he just called her pretending that he is sick so she went to see is he okey and he just wanted to fuck her. And Ran, Koko and Sanzu came into room while they were making out.

Hope you like it <3

Fake sick

Rindou x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Inappropriate language, Mature themes, orgasm, creampie, teasing, Ran, Sanzu, koko

Rindou and you had this ongoing game where you would accidentally drop pens and have to pick bend over with your short skirt to pick them up, or accidentally wear white shirts and have water spill all over the front revealing your lacey bra, an ongoing game of how much you could sexually frustrate Rindou.

And thus far you were winning this game, Rindou would always be leaving the office much earlier with a tent pitched I his trousers, but these games didn't just exist within in the office.

There would be nights you would accidentally send him pictures of you splayed out in lingerie that left little to the imagination. Teasing him on, just to see his reaction.

This game you enjoyed so much, loving the power you had over Rindou all from him seeing you semi nude. The feeling of how easily he got hard for you excited you immensely.

So, when Ran had told you that today his younger brother was not going to be in work due to him being ill a feeling of sadness.

"His really that sick?" You asked Ran for must of been the 10th time that day.

"He really isn't coming in (Y/N)-chan"

"But if you're feeling lonely you can always accompany me" Ran said with a smirk, eyeing your physique up and down.

"I think I hear my phone ringing actually" you replied walking away from the awkwardly turned conversation you were having with Ran.

You quickly walked over towards your desk, sitting down with a sigh. You looked over the papers on your desk deciding that you would have a productive day since Rindoubwas not there, but the more you tried your best to focus the more your mind wondered.

With every page of work you completed another wave of thoughts of Rindou flooded your head.

Finally after an hour of this torture you had enough. Grabbing your bag and keys you headed out of the office.

"Where are you going (Y/N)- chan?" Kakuchou asked as he watched you hurriedly walk down the office corridors.

"I think I'm going to check up on Rindou, Ran said his very ill today"

"Oh well tell him I send him my regards" Kakucho said with a smile.

You were always amazed with how sweet and understanding Kakucho was with you, and you were so grateful that he allowed you to just leave in situations like these without much questions.

You patiently sat in the cab, trying your best not to ask the driver to pick up his speed but thankfully your prays where answered when you arrived at the familiar house of Rindou Haitani.

You stood by the door adjusting your pencil skirt about to ring the doorbell when the door already flew open.

Rindou stood before you, not looking sick at all, with the biggest smirk on his face.

"I was expecting you" Rindou said moving out the way allowing you to enter his home.

"I thought you were sick" you said walking into Rindous living room.

"I was sick" he replied nonchalantly, taking a seat on the couch you sat on.

"I was sick of your teasing" Rindou said leaning I'm closer to your face, so close that you could smell the mint on his breathe.

"So I've decided to get my revenge, and you fell for my trap" Rindou said with a snicker, his handing sliding up towards your cheek, now holding your face as he peered deep into your eyes.

You held your breath so hypnotized by Rindou's actions.

"You must really care deeply for me to come all this way..." Rindou said coming closer the gap between the two of you nearly being closed.

You felt as your heart race was beginning to speed up and your hands felt clamy.

"Or you must really be missing seeing my dick hard"

"So, which one is it (Y/N)-chan" Rindou said as you felt his free hand grab yours and guide it over the massive bulge in his Grey sweat pants.

Rindou tilted his head slightly to the side watching as your facial expression, how you eyes became darker with lust yet your body remained hesitant.

You watched that snarky smirk on Rindous face deepen while you remained like a deer in the headlights.

'Is this how Rindou feels' you thought, as your felt your core slicken from Rindous actions.

"You want me to choose which one?" Rindou asked, but before you could answer his lips were on yours.

Feeling his soft lips against yours, molding to yours. Feeling as the hand that had guided yours was on your waist while the other that was on your cheek, gripped your face in place while his lips devoured you.

Rindou slipped his tongue into your mouth with ease, feeling how you hungrily accepted him. Rindou could sense the need within you, how you craved to have his erect cock push against your plush walls.

Rindou pulled away, eyes quickly flickering down to the string of saliva that still connected the two of you.

"So are we going to fuck are do you want to still play dumb?" Rindou asked.

You quickly stood up from the couch, as Rindou watched.

Leaning his head back against the couch, Rindou watched as you bent forward pulling your panties down.

"Mmm yummy" Rindou commented as he noted the massive wet spot on your panties.

You watched as Rindou pulled his hard cock out of his sweat pants. Your eyes went big taking in Rindou's size, he was massive with a thick vein on his underside that traveled to his tip that was leaking pre-cum.

"You gonna stare at it you jump on it?"

The more you looked at Rindou with that snarky smirk the more you liked it.

You quickly want back to the couch, but instead of sitting on the spot you were, you were now hovering over Rindou's cock, as his hands came to your waist.

You patiently waited for him to sink his cock into you.

You felt helpless, needing to feel Rindou inside you, so close yet so far. Maybe this was his punishment from you always teasing him, he was going to make you wait until he felt like fucking you.

Then you felt it, Rindou's thick cock head slide in-between your puffy pussy lips. Feeling as he slipped into your tight pussy hole, as he let out a sigh of pleasure.

You watched as Rindou's face scrunched with pleasure. Rindou kept his cock inside you for a moment, savoring the way your pussy hugged his cock so perfectly.

"Promise me you'll stop teasing me at work, and I'll fuck this pussy so good"

You let out moans of pleasure as Rindou's arms wrapped around your waist, swaying the two of your back and forth while his cock was still buried inside you. Feeling the way his cock barely nudged inside you was driving you wild while Rindou patiently awaited your answer.

"I pro-omise" you stuttered as Rindou's cock massaged your inside, with every sway back and forth.

Just as the words left your mouth, Rindou stopped his swaying, and gave a hard thrust straight into your cunt.

"Ah" you hiccuped out.

Rindou's cock pulled out of you only to be shoved deep inside of you. Over and over Rindou fucked you, until all you could feel was his cock rubbing against your walls and his cock head nudging that spot deep inside you.

"Rindou" you moaned out.

Rindou laughed out at your reaction. Rindou's laughs were cut short as your pussy clamped down hard on his cock.

"Shit" Rindou said under his breath.

Rindou began to pick up his pace, bow rutting into your pussy like a madman. The only noises being heard throughout Rindou's massive house was your moans and the sound of his balls hitting your wet pussy.

Rindou wasn't sure how much longer he could last in your clamping cunt, as he could feel the semen in shaft just aching to spill out into your cunt.

Rindou began massaging your breast through your shirt. The sensation of Rindou's rough hands man handling your chest was making you go insane, along with the way his pelvis with rubbing against your cunt was bringing you closer and closer.

"I'm gon-na cum" you moaned out.

"Good let go and cum for me" Rindou said encouraging you to release your orgasm on his cock.

Rindou thrusts were becoming sloppy until finally you felt hot semen shoot into you, Rindou's hips stuttered, causing them to rub vigorously against your cunt causing your own release to occur.

As Rindou was releasing the last of his cum, you cunt clamped down on him causing Rindou to cum more as your cunt milked him.

"Rinnie" you moaned out letting your orgasm wash over you, while Rindou held your back for support burying his face in your chest as his high came down.

You and Rindou remained like that until you finally caught your breath. You looked at Rindou and he looked back at you, the now snarky smirk was a soft smile. You leaned forward placing a soft kiss on Rindou's lips.

Just as you pulled away from Rindou you heard the front door swing open.

"Hey Rinnie we brought you a little get well basket. It has apples, a little water bottle and those cookies you like" Ran said pointing to the various items in the basket not even noting that you were there.

"Ran" Koko said nudging him, as he walked behind the older Haitani but was quick to realize the situation.

"What?" Ran said looking up to see you and Rindou.

"Why we all standing by the door way, what's happening?" Sanzu said as he finally entered.

"Oh shit! Your brother fucked (Y/N)" Sanzu laughed out.

"You owe me a 100 Rannie boy"

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aeroblossom · 2 months

Text

midori occupies every crevice in my brain. so here is some aimless and scattered rambling. it is absolutely not organized, and this is a continuation of my last post. please don't come for me

when alice 'killed' him, he didn't bleed. later in the secret repair room, you find a repaired head that reported a broken left eye, which matches what happened to the midori that alice pushed into the fence. the original midori was gone before he even began to recruit the cast. the only surviving bit of his human body we know of were attached to mai, but even mai ends up drilled or otherwise dies after the last trial.

more than half of him is doll, and the only evidence of his humanity has been destroyed. midori creates and destroys dolls of himself and the others as easy as breathing, abuses and torments people and watches them contort mentally and physically with great interest. he despises his entertainment coming to an end. he's aloof most of the time, unless he's bullying the cast and enjoying himself, or angry, disturbed somehow.

i have half a guess that the midoris that recruited the cast are not the same, but rather several different dolls of himself. this way, not only would he have discarded his physical humanity, but also minimized any consequences of him dying. on the one hand, he has trivialized the life of others as well as others, boldly inviting everyone to try and kill him. on the other, he is human yet at heart, fearing death like any other. trivialized is the less than half of him that is still human, like a majority vote, as he is. the game is a great criticism of democracy - the majority decide for everyone. a collective mass with no space for anyone's individual choice, with the few protesting voices silenced. they are trivialized.

an empty human, soulless. a doll. an aloof, empty husk that finds enjoyment only in controlling and torturing. perhaps he feels alive. perhaps he feels the fear of death and remembers his vulnerability, but from a safe distance, able to detach himself from it.

him having multiple replacements for himself would also mean he is, in a way, immortal. i assume every midori has the same personality, at least. that would be shedding the final layer of being human: mortality.

but one thing remains - shin tsukimi, living with midori's real name and a living caricature of who sou hiyori was. midori is a bit obsessed with him and who he was before he stole midori's name and adopted his general demeanor - the ai shin is a timid, but kind and sweet presence, like shin before the game. midori remarks that he regrets not being able to be the one who kills him. as infatuated as he is with the kindly ai shin, his love of control is first, and when pushed far enough, he 'kills' the ai shin too.

but why this, seemingly, immense need to lose one's humanity? something to do with what he was as a normal human at the beginning of everything? does being human impede him somehow? though regardless of how much he runs from it, he ends up with the very human fear of death all the same, a lack of control over his destiny, a lack of control in general. he loses all composure once he's seen through. the dolls establish that they have a right to make their own choices, and thus that makes them human - breaking shackles, freeing themselves of their circumstances, of control. this was midori's trump card over them - the ultimate trap, death. he puppeteered them by abusing their human psyches and weaknesses and hanging it over their necks like a guillotine, until the same guillotine chopped off his own head in the end.

having seen kai's episode, i wonder what kind of effect his mother had on him. i'll call her mrs hiyori. in her first interaction with gashu, she seems the picture of a great mother, giving him the right advice for kai and sei. gashu takes it to heart, and the results are extremely positive as well. but once the objective is complete, her attitude flips on its head. she suffocates gashu with his circumstances. she forces him to choose one, not the other. she changes as she sees fit, displaying that same suave manipulation midori is famous for. i don't think i covered nearly everything i wanted to say, but this will do for now

#sou hiyori #midori yttd #kimi ga shine #your turn to die #yttd #tbh I think he has bpd + aspd #it's the lack of empathy and obsessive nature for me #hell he gave maple bpd too lmao #i don't care how scary he is he listens to white girl music on a daily basis #wakes up and plays california gurls #🏷

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ayahimes · 9 months

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𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒

hi friends ! i know i'm a bit late with my post but i still wanted to post something regardless . 2023 had been one of the hardest years of my life thus far outside of the rpc , and even in it to be honest . i lost some good friends but gained some too . i've gotten to know so many of you on a deeper level and bonded with a lot of you over shared interests . so many of you have been patient with me on this blog because of school and for that i am immensely thankful ; i know you all followed because of your interest to write and i do apologize for not being able to fully deliver that due to my busy schedule . however , i do want to allot some time this year to be better about my time management . i honestly can't wait to see what this year brings !

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

@diaboelic : courtney . one of my best friends . i know i can write essays on why i am so happy to have you in my life but i promise i'll condense it . it's so crazy to me that we've been friends for almost two full years . it's wild because it honestly feels much longer . i know we're both busy making big moves and even if we don't talk every day i am always rooting for you . you're so down to earth and somehow understand how i'm feeling without me having to say it . please keep sending me fanart and spamming me with ig reels . i take forever to look at them sometimes but i love them !! also , im sorry you lost your streak in duolingo but i still think you're ahead of me by like 4 days everytime i do it . COURTNEY - SAN WA WATASHINO SUKINA HITORIDE ( i think this was right but probably not lmfao ) . i can't wait to hopefully explore japan with you . fingers crossed it's this year haha

@visionhcld : b , i will always write nice things about you no matter what . you've been my friend for like .... what .... this would be 6 years ?!!! GOD . you've seen the best and the worst . crazy to think that we made it !!!!! i love you so damn much and i am so lucky to have you in my life . i know we don't write a million active threads atm or talk every day like we used to , but i assure you it doesn't change our friendship . i love being able to pick up where we left off like nothing ever happened tbh . some people don't have that and tbh , i'm so fortunate to have found that with you . we have a ridiculous amount of inside jokes and years of history to pick apart but i leave you with one . jejota !!!

@fairesky : shado . we found each other through the funniest circumstances but i am so happy we did . you have been one of my closest friends these last two years and through you i met some other amazingly wonderful people ( cough leon cough ) . your kindness is immeasurable and i have truly learned so much from you because of it . you've taught me how to be nicer , how to be a better friend , how to care for others in a way i'd like to be treated , and just overall improved my life the last year with your presence . i love you so much and i'm really happy to have gotten to know you better over the course of 2023 . who else will i be an absolute simp with if not you haha

@iirath: essek , i know you're already aware but i am so damn happy to have gotten to know you better over the last year , even more so the last few months . i enjoy talking to you about life and getting to learn about who you are beyond the surface level . you're honestly SO tilt proof ( lmaoooo ) and surely never get mad when we play league . SURELY . thanks for speed running stardew valley with me and letting me run around not knowing what to do while you carry our farm to its greatest potential . you really have become one of my good friends and please know i always look forward to your good morning message in the server with the tired cat emoji haha

@shokutsus : LEON !!!!!!! ayaki will always reign supreme and have the best ship name . i will fight anyone who says otherwise . okay but let me just say i fucking love you dude . i know we haven't had a chance to have our tea talks on fortnite the last few months but i admit , those were some of my favorites . you've helped me through some really tough times and been there for me as a friend when i needed someone the most . i really enjoy thinking of the wildest plot lines for our characters while sleep deprived and playing fortnite ( tbh crackabella and anakin lore was big brained of us ) or discussing with kaine and courtney which part of the centipede we'd be . weird shit but i laugh typing it out lol . okay but fr i want this year to be the best one yet for you !! ps . send more pixel photos

@rosahope : fae , thank you for becoming one of my good friends this year . i'm so blessed to have met someone as grounded as you and i don't tell you enough . i know i'm too much sometimes and impulsive af , but you are my voice of reason and i appreciate it so damn much . you've helped me think outside the box and take things one step at a time . you're one of the realest people and i always welcome your honesty even if it's not something i may initially agree with . tbh i think that's what makes you such a good friends because you're transparent with me . i really am so happy for your big moves with your new job and i am always rooting for you no matter what !! you'll always be my chibiusa and my jessie <3

@prettyguardian : niniiiiiii . firstly , thank you for coming into my life and being such an amazing friend . i admire your tenacity , your creativity , your openness , your vulnerability . the list goes on . you've been there for me when i sought some direction in my life and for that i want to thank you . i know we have yet to write more aerti things but please know i will always gladly write them with you . you've helped me heal with ff . i know that sentence may sound silly at some level but it is a big thing . really !! your friendship has only added improvement within my life and i can't wait to see where it goes this year . sending you all the good vibes for 2024 !!

@cybrvce : light !!!! i'm so fortunate to have gotten to know you more over the last year and actually write with you . your characterization is truly amazing and i'm always impressed with everything you write . yes im slow as molasses but i promise it doesn't mean it's because i don't care !! i just want to write for you when i'm at my best because i want to give you quality writing !! thank you for being patient with me though . you're so kind <3 i'm genuinely so excited to start this year with your friendship !!

@deadn30n : LOOK HERE ALEXANDRA . YOU MADE IT ON THIS LIST BECAUSE YOU ARE JUST A GEM . i know we only recently became friends but in that short amount of time we bonded by playing league for like 5 hours straight lmfao . thank you for feeling comfortable enough to ask me for advice and direction though . it means a lot to me more than you know !! also i am here to write yone and kai'sa mutually fangirling/fanboying over each other . that thread is so cute and i am excited to see where it goes . ALSO I'M A NOOB AT XIV SO YOU'VE BEEN WARNED . heck im just bad at all video games lmao . but i look forward to playing them with you !!!!

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

i can't write about everyone , but i can sure as hell tag you all . please know that even if we haven't actively written it doesn't mean i don't want to . i still support you as a writer and creator and enjoy seeing you on my dash !! i have hopes that maybe we can write some day ! but i know we're all busy or overwhelmed with things outside of the rpc so there's obviously no rush . and if we have written or talked then please know that you have truly made my experience here something amazing . i was always a bit scared to come back to such a big fandom , but so many of you have welcomed me in writing ayaka and given me the opportunity to explore her more . so thank you <3

@zaihuos , @autymns , @wcvensouls , @enjomo , @todestochter , @yizao , @ungest , @raikuro , @tealsteel , @sourcewater , @dcndrohime , @rikyos , @nekasu , @meropidas , @scarletooyoroi , @viaetor , @abyssin , @crownlcsking , @raytm , @iedolon , @noctumsilenced , @noctuafought , @capravulpes , @liightbringr , @chiheru , @foliarlight , @mercyburned , @apocryphis , @anostos , @theoneandonii , @gonguji , @sinspast , @mellodiies , @pietys , @knghted , @dualisume , @artificeheart , @erabundus , @momijiba, @supportingfire , @cloudhymn , and honestly all of you .

#˚ ༘ ❅ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ ━━ ❆ ( 綾華 / ooc )#again in sorry if i missed anyone !!#i was rushing to post this before it hit jan 2 here lmao #im truly big fans of you all and hope this 2024 is off to a good start !!#may 2024 be kinder to everyone in the rpc #edit: so i couldn't tag a lot of blogs bc tumblr wouldn't let me so i actually had no choice but to condense it A LOT #ugh im sorry to anyone i left out !!!

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