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#what does the chaos mirror see
damnation-if · 10 months
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I just want to say, as a certified monster fucker, I'm already in love with your story hahaaa <3 I'm glad we're getting more adult stories and the themes in this one are so intriguing, can't wait for the rest ! Alsooo, I really liked the way you describe things? I do not know how to explain it haha but I could easily visualize what was happening and the general atmosphere you're going for and I thought that was neat :^)
thank you so much for your kind words!! i truly appreciate them and i'm so glad the descriptions were to your liking! i have at least some level of aphantasia, so i'm always worried that i'm not describing things enough haha... glad that doesn't seem to be the case!
i was actually talking to my friends just yesterday about how there's relatively few Creacher-y ROs around... so for whatever reason, i guess because it's on my mind, i thought i'd take a bit of time/space here to mention all of the Monsterfucker Approved (TM) ROs that i could come up with, in case anyone else might be interested. this list isn't meant to be exhaustive (in case i miss anyone) as sadly i am yet to become all-seeing and all-knowing 😔
Creacher (Alien)
Rhaxa and Imxa from Project Hadea by my beloved @nyehilismwriting. spikey, scaley, bitey, etc. 👌i also love and appreciate the attention to detail put into worldbuilding for the different ways their species communicates and thinks and so on, showing the culture gaps between them and humans. quality buggies!
Creacher (Eldritch)
Roach from The Passenger... the mc is also an eldritch creacher in this one, which may add or subtract to the enjoyment for various different people lol
Sysba from Attollo; i also think this game in general is pretty monster friendly, with a bunch of monstrous side characters and so forth. the cool kind of neo-gothic vibes give it a feeling a bit akin to a cyberpunk Penny Dreadful... it's about as Monsterfucker as cyberpunk gets i think!
Beacon from Stygian: The Abyssal Lighthouse by my good friend @salty-stories. this one is probably the most Lovecraftian of the eldritch creachers i think, heavy Call of Cthulhu vibes. it's still in progress but i'm personally willing to wait haha
Creacher (Parahuman)
Lorelei and The Other from The Golden Harp; pirates and sirens and mermaids, oh my!
Danny and Isla from When It Hungers by the wonderful @roast-ifs ... the game is still on hiatus but it still lives rent-free in my head always... the monster mcs are So *chef's kiss*
Oisein from The Nameless; due to the sheevra mc there's a Lot of really cool exploration of the boundaries of humanity and stuff like that... we love a "nonhumans shouldn't be able to feel/do this" story... we love it a Normal amount for sure.
Creacher (Indefinable)
Trace from Greenwarden by @fiddles-ifs; an iconique creacher... the game itself also has excellent kind of Appalachian gothic/supernatural vibes and a dark undercurrent of Lurking Monster Foreboding.
Games with Applicably Creacher-esque Vibes
Virtue's End by my beloved friend dani... the ROs might be human, but the mc most certainly is not<3 dark fantasy and sumptuous Monster vibes, what more can you ask?
anything by the extremely talented @thirtybythirty (links to their games in their pinned post). everything they write has a compelling undercurrent of... eldritch existentialism. perhaps the creacher is in fact the Narrative... or maybe the humans were the creachers all along...
the fabulous OFNA: Birds of a Feather - it has the perfect combination of things Not Quite Human and Not Quite Right to create a rich and ominous atmosphere, well-worth playing even though everyone is Technically human lmfao
anyway sorry for rambling on and i'm sure there's a bunch i have missed but. i do feel like it's worth giving praise where it's due for games and writers that we appreciate! thank you again for your kind message (and for giving me a chance to talk about this a bit lol)
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puppetmaster13u · 2 months
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Prompt 225
Klarion is EXCITED. He's absolutely DELIGHTED even, unable to sit still as he flits from place to place. His baby cousin! Is! Visiting! Which OBVIOUSLY means he, as the older one, must make sure the main places are still standing so he can show his itty bitty baby cousin EVERYTHING! After all, he's never gotten to be the older one! He's always been the youngest in the family! But now he has an itty bitty toddler cousin- form recently shifted to match- to teach the ways of Chaos to! He's so EXCITED!
The League and heroes on the other hand, are Very concerned about Why the Witch Boy has been spotted in practically every major city in the US in the last few days. What is he planning?!
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magatsunohana · 2 years
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let me psycho analyze u while i assign u poetry
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"...ahem. I believe there's nothing left to be discussed."
bottled emotions
tell them. tell them right now. you keep your emotions bottled up and it is doing absolutely no one a favor including you. you're the type of person that incorporates your feelings into art because you have no idea how to say it out loud. you fear rejection and the fact that you might not be good enough. i'm sensing recent heartbreak or unrequited love. if it's for you, it will come back to you. you're enough, i swear.
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Tagged by: @muraenide (Thank you again~)
#Mirror Mirror on the Wall... [ HC & Character Studies ]#At the very least his real emotions are bottled up#He'll always come across as your stupidly irresponsible headmaster because that's what he wants you to see#anything else is neatly wrapped and hidden away from your view much like the rest of his face which he keeps under his mask.#Him giving into these 'emotions' would literally allow someone power over him. And in all honesty he would not want that from anyone.#What he wants is control over the situation without having to reveal much about himself. The most you'll know is that he loves to travel#or that he is weak against spicy things. Or how he loves shiny things.#Something utterly trivial. To the point that others knowing it may make it seem embarrassing for him. But that's all calculated.#Which is why he makes sure MC is always around. So that someone handles things for him without him having to lift a finger.#Or if he does it's very minimal. So trivial that it seems irrelevant.#And he would rather keep it this way than tell someone his emotions. The real ones. The visceral ones that could probably ruin him.#Because he's not ready to be ruined by any one other than himself.#He'll continue to plunge himself into chaos. But he will never give that power or satisfaction to any one else.#Playing him as Diablo allows me to soften him just a little bit. Letting him experience things he wouldn't openly associate with himself.#Letting him feel through something that he technically isn't.#Getting affection that's not intended for Dire Crowley. But experiencing it through some pet bird.#He hates it so very dearly. And constantly reminds him that this is something that can lead to his ruin. So he must never fall for it.
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sttoru · 1 month
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·.⌇ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. you leave megumi with your husband so you can make them breakfast. you quickly realise that that might have backfired.
wc. around 1.3k
tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. reader gets called ‘mama’ by both toji & megumi. half beta read.
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“ow, careful there, brat.”
your husband’s deep voice echoes from within the bathroom. you’ve left megumi in his care this morning so you’d be able to make breakfast in peace. toji was all grumpy about it, since he had to wake up early when he had no work, but eventually agreed to your proposal.
you hum your favorite song while frying eggs. the sizzling in the pan did help avert your attention from toji’s grunts of annoyance somewhere in the distance, though only for a couple seconds. your hear your child’s laughter slip between the noises of aggravation. it piques your interest.
“one more time and i’m putting y’r ass in time out,” toji’s deep voice sounds muffled. he sounds rather serious about whatever is bothering him.
you turn the stove off and walk towards the hallway, standing at the doorframe as you look in the direction of the bathroom. you tilt your head and try your best to pick up on snippets of the conversation between your husband and son.
the sound of bottles dropping on the floor is the first thing that allows you to guess that megumi’s acting up. you know how mischievous your little toddler can get, especially at his age. toji isn’t one to gentle parent his kid—he tries to, of course, but sometimes he can’t help but be a bit rough.
“megumi fushiguro.”
you raise your eyebrows as toji uses your child’s full name. he rarely does, only when he’s really upset or about to lose his marbles. you decide to see what was going on for yourself. you walk towards the bathroom, cleaning your hands against the material of your apron. you knock once before pushing the door open.
you stick your head through the little gap, ready to identify the cause of the commotion. the first thing you notice is the chaos on the floor; bottles, tubes, toothbrushes, and all other kinds of products lay cluttered on the bathroom tiles.
your eyes then land on your husband’s broad and scarred back, “hey, honey. did something hap—”
your voice trails off once toji turns around, revealing the jaw dropping scene. nearly his entire face is covered in loads of shaving cream and even his black hair hasn’t escaped the soft foam.
the bathroom counter is completely wet, and the water runs down the edges in small drops. the culprit of this entire scene is sitting right on that same counter, clapping his dirty hands together that were smeared with toji’s shaving cream.
you blink and walk towards the two. you can’t possibly be mad at the sight, finding toji’s situation more funny than worrisome. You try to act serious and clear your throat, “uh, yeah. so what’s happened here?”
your husband rolls his eyes and nods his head at the little boy in front of him, who’s giggling and kicking his legs. toji tries to wipe the shaving cream from his nose, attempting to get it out of his hair as well, “i tried to be a good dad and include him in my morning routine, that’s what.”
the man clicks his tongue as he now realises how dumb of a mistake that was, “gave him the opportunity to put some shaving foam on my jaw ‘n the brat totally blew it. started attackin’ me with the stuff.”
toji grumbles. he wipes away the foam that got on the mirror afterwards. it’s nearly gotten everywhere. he lightly nudges megumi’s forehead with a scoff, “never again, y’hear? the little shit can’t sit still for even one second.”
that explains the stuff on the floor. you know that megumi could grow bored easily if he isn’t the centre of attention. he’d start doing anything to be the focus of his parents. toji probably didn’t pay him much mind, wanting to get his morning routine over with.
“language, honey.” you sigh and look down at megumi who’s still reaching his messy hands up to his dad.
toji huffs and leans back, not giving the little boy a chance to put more shaving cream on his face. he’s learnt his lesson; kids do not understand it when you tell them to ‘only put a little bit’.
megumi whines and threatens to throw a tantrum. you notice that immediately and try to keep his mind off things by picking him up. you turn on the faucet and try to wash his little hands, “c’mon. give mama your hands.”
the little boy shakes his head furiously, squirming in your embrace in attempt to get away. you sigh and grab his little wrists gently. you lower him to the sink, trying your best to wash away the shaving cream as the first step of solving this grande mess.
“no, mama!” megumi is stubborn as he voices his complains. toji watches from a distance whilst he struggles to clean the overload of shaving cream from his face.
you make the mistake of letting go of your child’s wrists to grab a washcloth. megumi takes his chance and pats his messy hands against your face, leaving you no space to process what he’s doing.
your mind takes a second before you realise what’s happening, “hey! quit it, ‘gumi.”
you try to grab ahold of megumi’s tiny hands again, but they move too fast for you. plus, he’s pretty skilled at avoiding yours. you can feel the foam slowly cover your entire face; from your jaw and cheeks, to your nose and forehead.
it was inevitable at this point.
“toji, do something,” you grunt and struggle to contain the energetic toddler in your arms. you take a peek at your husband and find him grinning at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself in.
toji simply shrugs and enjoys the fact that you’re experiencing exactly what he had experienced just moments ago. seeing you struggle to contain your disobedient child only proves that his parenting skills are not the problem in this situation, your toddler is.
“ye did that to y’rself, mama.” toji hums in amusement. he leans against the wall, the blue towel now loosely hanging off head after he’s given up on getting the foam out of his hair, “now y’know what i’m talkin’ about. he’s a lil’ monster.”
megumi squeals in victory after he’s gotten both his parents covered in shaving cream. you want to say something to your child, but you’re at a loss for words. even now, you cannot bring yourself to be mad at him. he’s just a kid who’s having fun with his parents.
“i made mama pretty! hehe.” megumi grins and encourages you to look in the mirror. he points at your reflection and awaits the words of confirmation. his blue eyes look up at you, nearly sparkling with joy, admiring how pretty he’s made you look with that white foam all over your face.
toji joins in on the fun. he comes to stand behind you, looking at you through the mirror. he snickers, already forgotten about his irritations that occurred in the first place. he nods in approval at megumi’s words, “gotta agree, son. y’r mama looks much prettier like this.”
your husband’s teasing comment adds fuel to the fire. though again, you cannot bring yourself to be upset at the situation.
you look at the reflection in the dirty mirror. you all may appear disheveled due to the foamy mess on your bodies—and yet even at that moment—the only thing you actually manage to see is a happy family of three.
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sparklingchim · 3 months
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you're losing me 02 | jjk
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pairing: jungkook x reader
word count: 5k
genre: angst, married couple, age gap, ceo jk, nepo baby oc, second chance romance
rating: 18+
warnings: pregnancy scare, mean possessive jungkook 😾, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, fingering, choking, oc gets her hands tied bc she's a brat ! ☝🏼, blowjob, cum eating, car sex, teasingg, tipsy oc, v vulnerable oc :(, dirty talk, daddy kink, crying, one boob bite methinks
summary: having a bit too much fun at chanyeol's halloween party, jungkook unexpectedly joins the party too.
a/n: it's finally here !! i hope u like it hihi <3
you're losing me masterlist
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Chanyeol never misses with his Halloween parties.
And usually, you never miss with your costumes too, but given the circumstance you’re glad to even attend.
Truthfully, it was entirely your own fault, and you hate to admit it because you had been extremely excited to wear your customised Barbie doll outfit, but one spill of your wine and the dress was disastrously ruined.
So you had to come up with a spontaneous Plan B.
You finally found usage for the small Victoria Secret wings from their special collection you received during a fashion show. Cinching a lace-embellished corset from Dolce & Gabbana, you paired it with a flirty ruffled miniskirt from Chanel. Your hair was crowned with crystal-embellished hairpins by Jennifer Behr. And oh, those satin heels by Jimmy Choo, adorned with dazzling crystals, added the perfect dose of sparkle to the outfit. You think you might’ve redefined last minute-magic.
“You’re trending on Twitter.”
As you sit on the couch, reaching down to retrieve the ping pong ball for Eunwoo turn at beer pong, Chanyeol abruptly shoves his phone in front of you. His screen is showing the trending page on Twitter.
“Didn’t realise my costume is that cute.” You look down on yourself. It’s a basic costume, but you would have thought that Chanyeol’s vampire look gained more attention.
“Your outfit’s cute, but everyone’s talking about what you posted on your Story,” Chanyeol remarks. He taps on your name trending and scrolls through a myriad of Tweets, with people reposting the picture.
“Oh.”
Eunwoo peeks over Chanyeol’s shoulder and reads the Tweets. He chuckles. “Everyone’s just talking about how hot we look.”
You giggle, swatting his arm.
You didn’t expect a little mirror pic creating chaos to this extent.
It was just a funny coincidence seeing Eunwoo dressed up in a matching costume to in a devil costume, complete with fitting horns and wings, creating an impromptu couple costume. It was his idea to take a picture.
You probably should have considered that Eunwoo is a rising idol and actor. Everyone adores him. And seeing him photographed next to a girl off-screen, especially when it’s not for a highly anticipated KBS drama, might not sit well with everyone.
“Has your hubby seen it?” Chanyeol asks.
You shrug. “I dunno. Maybe? He does regularly check what I post.” But he told you how busy he is today, so you’re not sure if he saw.
“Have you thought about my offer, by the way?” Eunwoo asks.
“What offer?” Chanyeol curiously chimes in.
“The lead role in my next drama. They're srill looking for an actress and honestly, I think ___ would be incredible for this one.”
Chanyeol’s eyes grow wide. “You two in a drama? That’s insane.”
“I’ve never tried acting. Not sure if I’d be any good,” you confess,
“I feel like you’re good at anything,” Chanyeol assures with a grin.
“I’ll think about it.”
They both resume playing beer pong with the others while you watch them as you drink.
As you take a sip from your drink, the weight of lingering gazes persists – less intense than in the beginning, yet a subtle scrutiny remains.
The curious looks undoubtedly trace back to the headlines two weeks ago, when pictures of Jungkook and you in his car near the gynaecologist’s building surfaced online. Captured in a vulnerable moment, perched on Jungkook’s lap with tears streaming down your face, you know how it must’ve looked like to the public.
You couldn’t stand those pictures making the rounds, especially with you in tears.
~
2 weeks ago
“You don’t need to worry.” Jungkook gently traces his thumb over the back of your hand.
You huff, frowning at your interlaced fingers. “But I do worry.”
“Love, if you are potentially-”
“Don’t say it!” you cut him off. “Hearing the word makes me more anxious.”
You hear him utter an exhausted sigh. “You said yourself that your period has been irregular in the past.”
“Yeah, minus the morning sickness.” Your tone is a bit sharp, maybe even sassy, and you don’t actually want it to come off that way and in another circumstance you’d feel guilty, but you’re too drained from your emotions and the conversation to care.
“But the tests you took were negative,” he tries again.
“It’s just plastic. I can’t trust it.”
You took countless of pregnancy tests weekly, filled up the bathroom bin with those stupid little things until you finally acquiesced to Jungkook’s persistent suggestion to schedule an appointment with your gynaecologist.
The slow traces on your hand come to a halt. His fingers lightly squeeze your chin, directing your gaze at him.
“I promise you, whatever the outcome is we’ll make the best of it.”
“I don’t understand how you’re able to stay calm,” you say, eyebrows arching at his composed demeanour.
In truth, this is an authentic depiction of your relationship dynamic. You deal with lots of anxiety, always have been, and Jungkook stands as the serene counterbalance – tranquil and calm, akin to a gentle, silent breeze sweeping over your arms just as it gets unbearably hot in summer and you’re out of options to cope with the temperature.
But this is concerning you both and you can’t grasp the ease with which he handles the plaguing situation.
“Either outcome won’t change anything drastically.”
You head turns to the side and your stare out the windscreen, a hint of pique evident as your tongue pokes your cheek.
“I don’t want a baby.” It’s barely a whisper under your breath. “But you want one.” Your eyes flutter back to him.
Thinking about it, it dawns on you that a potential pregnancy would undoubtedly bring joy to everyone in your life. Especially your dad, who has been eagerly anticipating it for years – bugging you about it almost every time you see him. However, at 24 you have dreams beyond motherhood. The thought of being tied down to it now fills you with a quiet sense of unease.
You know that Jungkook views it differently. It’s understandable; he is 31, and despite mutually agreeing to wait for a baby, for him it’s not the end of the world. His calm demeanour, shaped by having navigated through a previous marriage and bringing a wealth of life experience, contrasts with your apprehension.
Jungkook hesitates. “I do want a baby,” he confirms, a shadow of regretful longing crossing his face. “But it doesn’t matter. Whatever the result is, I will support it – I will support your decision.” Upon squeezing your bare thigh, he realises how cold you are. “Love, you’re freezing.” He fetches a fuzzy blanket from the backseat that he keeps there just for you. He tucks you under the comfy blanket.
“It’s ‘cause I’m scared,” you mumble, leaning back in your seat.
“Come here.” He softly anchors his hands on your hips and guides you to his lap. “It pains me to see you like this.” He wraps the blanket around you tighter. “You don’t wanna go in there and get this done quickly? Avoiding the inevitable messes with your headspace.”
“Just a few more minutes.”
Jungkook mindlessly cups your cheek, tatted knuckle skimming over your skin.
Maybe it’s the way he peers at you. With a gentle shimmer reflecting sheer fondness and poised to unfold the world at your feet, build a home for you wherever your finger points to without having to ask. Maybe it’s the way he is holding you to himself, his hands serving as a protective embrace, a shield warding off any harm that would dare come your way. Or maybe it’s the tall, daunting building on the side of the road, towering over you like a spectre of uncertainty.
But something brings tears to your eyes – making you grow smaller and younger and suddenly fragile.
“My love,” Jungkook utters tenderly. It fills you with warmth and so much love.
Worry contorts his face. His hand around you holds you tighter.
“I’m not gonna cry.” It serves more as a reassurance for yourself than for him.
“You know you can when you’re with me.”
You refuse, adamantly shaking your head. But when you lose control over the tears stinging your eyes, you bury your face into his neck.
“It’s okay,” he whispers, adding a small peck to your temple. “It’s okay to feel this way.”
“Don’t like it,” you murmur into his now tears stained skin.
“But there’s no point in denying it.”
“There’s just...so much. All at once.” You lean back a bit, finger pointing right to your heart.
“I know, love.” He gingerly caresses your back. He softens at your trembling bottom lip, a piece of his own heart falling apart upon seeing you vulnerable on his lap. “I’ll carry everything you can’t, remember?” It’s a vow that formed the foundation of your shared existence. In the quiet assurance of his voice, he continues, “I’ll carry your worries, your fears, your doubts.” His promise is a soothing melody in the symphony of your shared moment. “As long as we talk – communicate properly, this won’t be difficult.”
“But we do talk,” you reply, scrunching your stuffy nose. “No?”
“Yeah, I know.” He nods, thumbing away the tear from the corner of your eye. “But I need you to be honest with me regarding this. No hiding your thoughts from me.”
“I won’t.”
“You’re ready now?” Jungkook asks. As much as he comforts you, traces of curiosity glimmer in his eyes.
“I think so.”
“There’s nothing to worry.” Jungkook smiles in that boyish and lovely way that it coaxes a weak smile on your face.
~
Jungkook had been right the whole time. You weren’t pregnant.
There had been nothing to worry.
You’re still in awe at how he never doubted his feeling. He just knew you weren’t pregnant – typical Jungkook, always has this uncanny grasp on things, like an innate ability.
Your gynaecologist attributed it to a lack of vitamins and advised better hydration.
Jungkook, feeling more than a tad guilty, bombards you with constant reminders to take your vitamins, drink and eat even more than he used to.
“Is that Jeon Jungkook?” A hushed female voice utters to the person beside her.
As you gaze upward, your eyes lock onto Jungkook in the back of the crowd. A flutter dances through your heart at the mere sight of him.
Jungkook’s presence demands every ounce of attention as people instantly recognise him. He’s draped entirely in black. His pants temptingly cling to his thighs, the buttons of his shirt straining across his chiselled chest and strong arms. His Rolex sits prettily around his wrist, it’s gleam harmonising with the brilliance of his wedding ring.
And you find it so funny, silly almost, because this is just Jungkook in his work attire, you see him like this every day, and yet people’s eyes morph into tiny hearts as he effortlessly strolls by, leaving a trail of heated admiration.
Sometimes Jungkook has a way of teasing your sanity. He turns your life into a whimsical romance, making you wonder if you’re living in a silly, sappy romance movie with the dreamiest guy as the lead. Because in this fleeting moment, the world around you dissolves into a blur, and you see nothing but him. Everyone fades, except him.
“Jungkook!” You stand up, a bit wobbly on your heels. He immediately wraps his hands around your sides.
“Hi, love.” He kisses you softly.
You missed his sweet, gentle voice when he talks to you.
He rakes a stare over you, one brow arched. “You’re already drunk? Who’s been giving you drinks?”
You deny his question with a dragged out “no”. “Just a bit tipsy – if even.” Before he can comment anything else regarding how many drinks you’ve already had, you ask, “Where’d you get these cute horns from?” Your hand reaches for the hairband with two attached red horns on them.
“Don’t know the brands name. Just a cheap store down the street from the company.”
You tilt your head as you ponder. “I don’t know of any cheap store close to the company.”
A ping pong ball rolls towards you on the floor. As you bend down to retrieve the ball, Jungkook’s hand pulls you back by the waist and he picks it up himself. His possessive hand travels to your butt and he slides his palm over the ruffles of your skirt.
“You’re not wearing any panties, are you?” he whispers into your ear. He throws the little ball towards the other end of the table. You shake your head, not really comprehending what he’s implying. Your more focused on how he effortlessly threw the ping pong ball straight into the cup.
“Yah, Jungkook! Come here, I need you in my team right now!” Chanyeol yells.
Jungkook lets out a humourless laugh. “Has Eunwoo not been good enough?”
Eunwoo sends a glare his way. “Chanyeol’s just taking everything too seriously.”
Jungkook rolls up his sleeve. “Too good that I’m also competitive.”
~
When Jungkook has enough of beer pong after carrying his team every round, he sits down next to you, pulling you to his lap.
You were just talking with Jisoo about the newest Dior collection, but she leaves the two of you alone with a knowing smile.
Jungkook swiftly takes the partially filled cup from your grasp and places it on the table. “You’ve had plenty to drink tonight.”
“I didn’t drink that much.” You don’t know exactly how much you drank because maybe you had too much to count, but you won’t tell him.
Jungkook cocks his head. He doesn’t need you to tell him to know.
“Get up.” His palms push your lower back.
“Huh?” You play with his necktie, leaning closer to his body. “For what?”
A crooked, entertained smirk crosses his face. “For what?” he scoffs.
His tatted arm snakes around you, his rolled-up sleeve flaunting the pretty inked lines adorning his skin. Jungkook grips you close to him. He angles your face down, his lips brushing over the sensitive part of your neck until he reaches your ear.
“Gonna fuck your brainless in my car. That’s why.”
His voice has got that pretty husky rasp you love so much. Tingles spread everywhere, especially your pussy. Jungkook sucks your earlobe between his teeth, and you think you can feel his smile when an unintended moan bubbles up your throat. You squirm in his lap.
“Someone’s got excited,” he teases as his hands run up your thigh, thumb disappearing underneath the white material of your skirt.
“Don’t.” Your fingers fly to his wrist. “There are people.”
Jungkook clicks his tongue. “Now you care about people watching?”
Your lips pull together in a confused pout.
“You never notice, do you?” He decided against sneaking his finger further between your legs. Instead, he smoothens the hiked-up fabric of your skirt, though there is not much to adjust. It’s a skimpy skirt, it barely covers you.
“Notice what?” Your sparkly heels distract you and you move your feet around, watching every crystal glitter. “You’re being confusing, Koo.”
“I’m not being confusing,” he denies.
“Yes, you are.” You shift your gaze to him. A subtle crease appears between your brows. “You told me you didn’t have time for a silly Halloween party and yet you showed up.”
Jungkook dislikes seeing you upset. He really does. It creates this unexplainable feeling of protectiveness that sits right behind his rib – annoying and intolerable, coupled with a hint of guilt. But seeing your tipsy form upset delights him the tiniest bit.
“I was able to finish off early,” he explains. “Thought I’d join you, ‘cause you wanted me to.”
“And you were pretty mean to Eunwoo.”
“He can fuck off. I really don’t care about him.” His tongue peaks out as he swipes it over his bottom lip, teeth biting at the skin with furrowed brows.
“You’re such a meanie sometimes.” You run your fingers over his eyebrows, relaxing them.
“Want me to show you how mean I can be?” He tilts his head, a challenging glint in his eyes.
“You can’t be mean to me,” you say, shaking your head as your fingers settle on his broad shoulders. “Been good today.”
“You’ve been driving me insane tonight.”
“Me? What did I do?”
Jungkook rises to his feet with you, and you stagger a little at the sudden movement, but he keeps a safe arm around you. “Always so clueless,” he mumbles as he leads you through the crowd.
“___!” someone yells your name.
You stop when you see Karina rushing towards you.
“I’ve been looking for you all night!” She hands you a drink
You look at her through apologetic eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m leaving already. I’ll see you soon!”
Jungkook takes the drink from you after you had a sip and downs the whole thing. He tosses the cup into a near trashcan as you step out of the house.
“Oh, no. I told Eunwoo I’d give him my number,” you remember. “Lemme go back.”
But Jungkook’s hand on the small of your back remains firm.
“He’s not stupid. He’ll find a way to contact your manager.” Jungkook is pissed and you’re not quite sure if you heard it right, but you think he adds a small “Doesn’t need my wife’s number.”.
“Can you imagine me in a drama?” You giggle as you think about it. “Would you watch it?” You turn your head. “You don’t like watching dramas.”
“Of course, I’d watch it. Immediately.”
Your eyes spark up and Jungkook wants to have this image of your forever ingrained in his memory. A literal angel staring at him as if he was the one that hung up the stars.
You stumble over your heels when you refuse to look ahead, pretty eyes still admiring him. “Careful, love.” He quickly steadies you.
He unlocks his car when you reach it and opens the door to the backseat for you. But instead, you pull open the passenger door and bend over to open the glove compartment.
“Are there condoms left here?”
You search for the familiar package, but Jungkook hurriedly pulls you back, shutting it closed along with the car door.
“Nothing left,” he replies. “Get in the backseat.”
As you get into the car and settle on your back, you ponder, “Didn’t realise how many times we’ve fucked in the car.”
You're not particularly interested in cars, but in rare – or apparently not so rare – moments like these, you appreciate the spaciousness of Jungkook’s G-Wagon.
Before Jungkook joins you in the car, he scans the surroundings, vigilant for any lingering onlookers. He doesn’t need you on the front page of every media outlet again. You’ve had enough of that lately, and that darn Instagram Story of yours likely fuelled the gossip mill again.
Jungkook barely uses social media. You’re the only reason he has the apps on his phone. He doesn’t follow anyone except you, only has your notifications on. During a short break he mindlessly clicked on the Instagram notification, expecting a cute picture of your angel outfit – you had texted him complaining about your ruined Barbie dress and he suggested you could use the angel wings he once saw you carrying into your wardrobe.
Safe to stay he expected everything, but a picture with fucking Eunwoo wearing fucking matching costumes.
As hours passed by, his anger didn’t simmer; instead, it prompted his decision to make a swift trip to the dollar store and join you at the party.
“You tend to conveniently forget when you’re a needy brat.”
“It’s ´cause I’m not a brat,” you reply with a huff, yanking at his tie. “Just a bit needy sometimes.”
“Hmm, just a bit needy?” His knuckle follows along your jaw, teasing you with his gentle touches and the mock sympathy seeping from his tone.
You look so cute lying here for him, with the angel wings peeking from your sides and the little sparkly pins adorning your hair. He just wants to fuck you silly.
You nod pliantly. An innocent smile blossoms on your face.
Jungkook’s hand disappears under the ruffles of your skirt, middle finger sliding over your pussy. You gasp, body twitching at the sudden touch.
“So wet already?” he sneers. “All for me?”
You grind your pussy against him, hungry for more.
“And so greedy for me.” He spreads your pussy lips, gently rubbing the pad of his finger over your sensitive clit. Jungkook moves your skirt up and an immediate glint surfaces in his eyes. “So pretty.” He slips two fingers in, smirking when you shake beneath him. “Baby’s sensitive, huh?”
He pumps his fingers into you and your teeth sink into your bottom lip. The alcohol running through your veins heightens your sensitivity to his touch. Everywhere he touches leaves a shimmering trail of tingles, enveloping your body in a cloud of euphoria, a sensation both fuzzy and dreamy.
“I want you.” You reach for his cock, but Jungkook seizes your wrist.
“Did I say you could touch?” His voice drips with condescension.
You weakly shake your head, a frustrated whine accompanying it.
“Use your big girl words.” His fingers stop moving and he completely removes them when you remain silent. “C’mon,” he urges, growing more impatient.
“No, you didn’t,” you sulk. Even dare to look at him through a frown.
“You don’t get to do anything," he tells you. He loses hie tie, wraps it around your wrist in a swift, practiced motion and ties them above your head. “Just lie there and look pretty for me.” He pulls his pants and briefs down, stroking his hard cock before he teasingly nudges his tip against your clit.
You watch him play with your pussy and you’re unable to keep the desperate moans from leaving your mouth, eagerly waiting until he aligns his cock to your entrance, slowly filling you up with his entire length. A throaty moan reverberates when he’s all the way in.
“Pussy’s so good at taking me.”
A gasp leaves your mouth as he stretches you out. “So good,” you mumble.
Jungkook waits until he knows you’re used to h is size before he starts moving his hips.
Your tits move in the confines of your corset. Jungkook’s head dips down and you feel his tongue slide over the swell of your boobs that peek out, teeth slightly grazing over your skin.
“Don’t bite,” you utter between moans.
But Jungkook does exactly that. Even sucks on your skin a little bit.
“You think you have a say on anything?” His hand squeezes your face. Traces of petulance lie in your eyes. His other hand grips your hips, fingers buried in your skin to fuck you fast.
It’s almost ridiculous how fast Jungkook gets you to your high. He knows exactly what to do to get your walls clamp around his cock, begging him to give you just a little bit more to push you off the edge.
“Don’t stop,” you whisper, eyes falling closed as you the pleasure builds up in your tummy.
But then Jungkook suddenly stops moving. You open your eyes to find Jungkook smirking at your trembling body, amused when a shaky breath escapes you.
“Why would you do that? I was close!”
He pulls his cock out, tapping it over your clit.
“Hmm, no idea why I would do that?” he asks, pushing his cock back into your pussy in one swift motion.
“I haven’t done anything,” you say meekly, staring at the way he slowly fucks you. He could make you cum so easily.
Jungkook sniffs a laugh. “Can’t recall anything bad you did?”
He picks up on his pace and you can’t think at all, barely able to shake your head as more breathless moans fly past your lips.
“Posting a couple costume picture online? Fuck, ___ what were you thinking?” He hooks his hands underneath your thighs, pulling them up to fuck deeper. “Wanted everyone talking about you two? Wanted to piss me off?”
“No,” you whine. “Didn't mean it that way. We- we didn’t plan on it at all. Just – when we saw each other it was really funny, and I just took a pic of it.” You’re a babbling mess at this point, the ability to form comprehensible sentences gone once Jungkook sticked his cock in you.
“I don’t fucking care,” he curses. “You know how people perceive this stuff.”
“You don’t... don’t think it was a silly coincidence?”
Jungkook is flush against you. Your nails dig into your palms at how deep his cock is buried in you.
“I should find it silly?” A deep glower settles on his face and in a sick, naughty way it turns you on, making your pussy involuntarily squeeze around his cock. “Fuck, ___, do you wanna cum at all?”
“No, please,” you fuss desperately. “Wanna cum.”
“Then start behaving. Quit being a brat.”
“I am good,” you try to convince him.
Jungkook shakes his head in dismissal. “Put on an angel costume and yet you’re such a dirty girl.”
While you may not encapsule the right persona regarding the angel outfit, Jungkook undoubtedly fucks you like the devil. So mean and selfish, teasing and cursing at you.
“Wanna be – wanna be good for daddy.”
“Yeah?” he breathes, hand travelling up your body until it reaches your throat. “Then don’t disappoint me.” With his shiny Rolex around his wrist, he wraps his fingers around you, squeezing the tiniest bit. You feel the familiar outline of his wedding ring press to your skin.
Your legs wrap around him and you try not to poke him with your heels, but tears obstruct your view and you can barely control yourself, the aching feeling to come undone is back in your tummy.
“Jungkook,” you utter between little desperate puffs. “Wanna cum so bad.”
“Only when I allow you to.” Jungkook looks down at your defeated, crushed face with a smug smirk. “Can do that, right? My wife’s capable of that, hmm?”
Your eyes flutter shut. A single tear rolls down the corner of your eye. “Yes, I – I can wait.”
“That’s my good girl.” He leans closer, whispering it into your ear. “Cock so good it’s making you cry, huh?” His lips press to the corner your eye and he kisses your tear away.
The more he talks and whispers dirty word into your ear, the harder it becomes to resist the temptation to pull yourself back and cum on his dick. But you want to be good for Jungkook, want to hear him praise you for being a patient girl.
“Slow down, please.” Your bound wrists unconsciously attempt to free themselves, but Jungkook’s knot is too tight for you to undo it. You’ll cum soon if he continues at this pace.
“Nuh-uh.” He denies firmly. “You can take it. Show me how good you are.” His fingers dig deeper into your throat and your eyes open again. His brows are furrowed, an angry flush tinting his cheeks. “That’s it. Look at me – look at me when you cum.”
It crosses your mind to secretly cum, but Jungkook’s got a knack for spotting your telltale signs, so it wouldn’t be that sneaky after all. You did try to do that once though. You couldn’t properly sit the next day.
Jungkook swipes his tongue over his thumb before he slips his hand between your legs and starts to slowly circle your clit. A devilish grin sparks up his face.
“You wanna cum so badly, don’t you?”
“Please.”
“Wanna cum all over my cock?” His thumb moves faster. “Make a little mess?”
“Yes,” you pant. Pleasure seeps through your entire body and the effort to ignore the feeling becomes so exhausting, more tears fill your eyes.
“Then cum for me,” Jungkook demands, keeping a gentle trace in his voice. His gaze remains on your face and he watches you with greedy eyes as you come undone beneath him.
It happens almost instantly, like a string that snapped. You’re body shakes as your orgasm rumbles through you and you’re so sensitive you want to yank his hand away fromyour clit, but Jungkook enjoys seeing your writhe way too much to stop playing with your nub.
Shaky breaths escape you. Jungkook fucks you slower now, still rolling his hips into you with precision to hit your sweet spot.
“Doing so good, love.” The hand on your throat moves to your face, swiping away the tears. “So good for me.”
And just as you’re about to tell him you’re too sensitive, Jungkook removes his finger from your clit and pulls his cock out. He sits down and pats your thigh. “Come here.”
Despite being tired from just cumming, you’re hungry for him just by the sight of Jungkook stroking his cock. You move to sit on your thighs, tied up hands on your lap.
Jungkook gathers your hair in his hand before he moves your head down. “Open wide,” he instructs, guiding his wet cock into your mouth.
You taste yourself on his dick as your slide your tongue around him. Jungkook is close to cumming. You can feel it in the way his he impatiently pushes your head further down his cock.
“Gonna cum in your mouth.” Tiny moans fill your ear and you take as much of him inside your mouth as you can. “Fuck, just like that.”
Your mouth fills with hot, salty cum and you continue bobbing your head up and down, getting every drop of it.
“Good girl.” Jungkook pulls you away from his cock. You swallow his load as you look at him. He hums approvingly. “Wasn’t too rough, was I?” he asks, untying the know from your wrists. He rubs his fingers over the red marks.
“I’m fine. Didn’t hurt.” Your eyes close when he pecks your forehead.
After he pulls up his pants and briefs, Jungkook checks his phone. His fingers are quick as he types something.
“Who’s texting you at this hour,” you ask, curiously peeking over his arm.
“Just work. I left a bit abruptly.” He tucks his phone away before you can read anything.
Before more questions can leave your lips, he meets yours in a sweet kiss.
“I’m not done with you yet,” he says, patting your hair to tame the mess on your head. “Once we’re home, I’m gonna give your ass the attention it hasn’t got yet.”
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lou-struck · 1 year
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They Said No... Part 1
Obey Me! x MC!
Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan
Part 2 HERE
Part 3 HERE
~Regular projects are being put on pause because I am a bit stressed. And I feel like this will help me out.
~We all get asked to do things sometimes that we do not want to do. And it's okay to say no, but sometimes you need a little extra help to get the point across.
Warnings: Pushy Demons, talk of pact control,
Lucifer
The eldest Avatar of Pride tries to hide the spring in his step as he approaches your meeting place. He had managed to work through all of the day's paperwork, and to celebrate, he was planning on taking you out to a nice meal on the town. 
But as he gets closer, he sees a few familiar noble demons practically standing over you. The polite smile that rests on your lips is betrayed by your overly tense body language and the grip you have on your DDD. Clearly, you would like to be anywhere else.
His brow furrows in concern as he focuses his attention on your conversion to see what exactly it is they want with you. Knowing that he can't just step in on your conversation without a good reason. Especially in High society.
"I will not do that; it is not right." your voice says, sounding quite annoyed at the situation you are in. It makes Lucifer chuckle to himself; you are just as headstrong as ever. But he does wonder what deed these men are asking you to do that frustrates you so.
The Demon clears his throat haughtily and steps closer to you, his companion mirroring the action, not giving you a chance to walk away. "It's for the good of the Devildom MC if you were to just use that silly little pact mark of yours and order Lucifer to drag his feet on signing off on that royal proclamation the Demon Lord has put out. We will happily be on our way and out of your hair."
Lucifer's jaw clenches furiously at the Demon's words. Ever since word of your pact with the eldest avatar of sin has spread through the Devildom, he has been waiting for insignificant worms to try and abuse the pacts. The Larger of the two demons is a known instigator of political conflict, thriving on the chaos of delayed legislation and discord. His beady eyes stare down at you condescendingly as he flares his dragonfly-shaped wings in the hope of intimidating you into doing his bidding. 
"I don't use my pacts," you spit, a nervous tremor to your voice. Your strength may be great, but you haven't the energy to deal with these Demons right now. "Please leave me alone."
"You will do what I want," the Winged Demon snarls, reaching out toward your arm. 
"That's enough," Lucifer cuts in, stepping down the corner as if he has only just stumbled upon this little scene. The three of you turn towards him instantly, and the two demons take a large step away from you cowardly. "Now, my human has clearly said no to whatever it was you were trying to get them to do, so be on your way."
Too afraid to say anything else, the two demons rush away, leaving you alone with the Avatar of Pride. You throw yourself into his chest, your body shaking a bit as you relax. 
"I did say no, Lucifer," you say into his collar. "Did you hear me? I would never want to do that to you, I promise."
"I heard everything; you did nothing wrong." he soothes; dealing with those demons can wait for later, but for now, he needs to take care of you.
Mammon
Mammon loves to spoil you more than anything in the three realms. The days after he plays well at the casino are spent in luxury; he takes you to the best shops and restaurants in the Devildom, more than ready to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. 
The café you were at is no exception with its luxuriously decadent sweets and, as Mammon had just found out, the fully stocked bathroom of complimentary samples. After sticking a handful of the mini cologne samples into his pocket, he comes back to the table to where you are sitting. But as he approaches your sweet little table in the corner, he notices you are no longer alone. The previously unoccupied seats at your table are now in use by some demons he knows.
Mammon may not be the best judge of character, but even he knows these guys are bad news. In the past, they have tried to start numerous sham businesses and fraudulent get-rich-quick schemes. 
Why in Diavolo would they be talking to his human? This is supposed to be his time with you?.
He feels his protective greed towards you start to flare up as he approaches a table, his superior hearing picking up a bit of their conversation.
"Come on, doll face," the blond one coo's leaning back on the seat next to yours, "We got a great opportunity for Mammon; he just needs a bit of convincing to agree."
You shake your head now and, with a politeness that would put even Barbados to shame, and say that Mammon is perfectly capable of making these decisions for himself. 
The trust that you have for your first Demon causes a heavy flush to appear on his cheeks. 
"Don't be like that, Mc," the other one pushes, swinging a lazy arm over your shoulder. Not seem to care that you tense up under the weight of his unwelcome touch. "if you do this for us, two pretty influential demons will owe you a favor."
The touch is the straw that broke the camel's back. No one gets to act so freely with his human. "Oi, get yer own human," he shouts, rushing forward and pulling you from the Demon's grip. "Come on, Mc, they don't got anythin worth lookin' at." 
Not caring about the uneaten treats that have just arrived at the table, he leads you away from those creeps and out of the cafe. 
Once alone and safe, he shoots you a wink. "Next time, just don't say anything to those losers. The Great Mammon will keep em away."
Leviathan
Levi's merch collection is one of the most coveted of the entire Devildom. His Figurines, Manga, DVDs, and memorabilia are worth a small fortune thanks to his fascination and skill as a top Otaku.
He has a sixth sense for picking out the most sought-after merch.
His fans on his online servers love his collection almost as much as he does. Blowing up his chat whenever he unboxes a new figurine.
He loves it, but he prefers to keep his online life online. Especially when he has to leave the house to go to RAD.
Today is one of those days; although most of his classes are online, he still has to show up to campus to take exams. With his exam done, he leaves the testing center and goes to find the classroom where you are studying.
As he approaches the open door, he sees you having a conversation with a demon he thinks he recognizes.
Not one for unwanted social interaction; he waits outside only to hear the conversation that the two of you are having.
"Please, Mc, you gotta give me that figurine. Levi-chan will never love Zaramela as I do. It will be the perfect addition to my collection." they plead, sinking to their knees and staring up at you with watery avian esque eyes. Zaramela is one of Levi's favorite Idols; he won a contest the other day for one of her limited-edition singing figurines. 
Levi has already turned down many people's requests to buy it, wanting to keep it for himself. But now they're going through you to try and get him to hand it over. It's so gross it makes him want to shut himself away in his room and never come out. Curiously he waits for you to respond to the crying Demon.
"He already told you that he wasn't going to give it away. "You stay calm, taking a step back to create some distance between you and the Demon. "You're just gonna have to find something else for your collection."
"No," they shout, springing to their feet, "I need her; I need her. Why don't you do this one thing for me?"
Levi knows his Henry can handle this guy, but the pushiness the Demon is showing towards you is something that makes his blood boil.
"Like MC would ever listen to a normie like you, you are a disgrace to the fandom." Levi spits with a confidence he didn't know he possessed as he takes your hand and walks you back to the house of lamination.
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vyglitchcraft · 7 months
Note
Since requests are open, can you write for havik, shao, Scorpion and sub zero with a size kink SFW and NSFW headcanons? ʕʘ‿ʘʔ
YES BITCH I WILL, you have good taste in men hot DAMN also yes putting their canon heights just so you can imagine it (atleast before MK1 assuming they didn't change the height)
Sizing Up (18+)
MK1 Shao, Havik, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang x gen!reader size kink headcanons
Warning: Havik's section has mentions of gore and more extreme fetishes
General Shao (7'2 ft)
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SFW
This hunk of muscles love to show off his build, he is VERY proud of it. Like the type of douchebag in the gym that would flex in front of the mirror type of guy. And you love every second of it
He likes to show off, that's just a thing that Shao likes in every timeline. He likes to pick you up and just point out how small and light you are, how you're lucky to have him because someone can just pick you up and run off with you
He's a bit of a jerk but you should expect that when you dated him. He constantly teases you about your height and he'll make sure you will NOT forget that you're short. Jars on the highest shelf, every lid is screwed on a bit TOO tight, you can't seem to find any stools to stand on so that means only one thing, you're forced to ask him for help and he would HAPPILY do it with a shit eating grin on his face
He LOVES it when you do a size comparison between you and him, especially with your hands, he thinks its so precious that he can just hold both of your hands with only one of his
He went FERAL when he saw you in his clothes
NSFW
When i say this man is huge EVERYWHERE i mean it, you wouldn't be exaggerating when you compare it to your arm.
"Are you sure? I could break you" is something he constantly says. He loves to lay his cock right on top of your stomach, just admiring just how deep he could reach. Heck it scares you sometimes too, i mean who wouldn't?
But all those feelings are gone when you feel that delicious stretch as he slowly pushes his cock into you. He loves to compare you to a sex toy just because he could just hold your torso with one hand and just use you. He is VERY degrading in bed but god does he love you too.
"So pathetic, did it reach your brain too? Look at me while i use you" even when the two of you are doing it sitting down, you only reach his chest.
He loves to see the outline of his cock on your stomach, he's amazed that someone as small as you can take something that big.
You're practically getting tossed around from position to position, you're gonna get manhandled like a sack of potatoes
Havik (6'4 ft)
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SFW
Also messes with you but more just because it causes chaos. Although he doesn't care about his height unlike Shao, he is absolutely fixated by the fact that you're so small compared to him. He thinks you're adorable and wants to bite your head off.
Chews on your hair. You're probably the perfect height for him to lay his head on top of yours. Your hair gets into his mouth sometimes and he likes chewing on it.
He likes to hold onto you, he wants you to carry him around because he thinks it's funny that someone THAT small can carry a man his height. So yes you're here giving this man a piggy back ride while he chews on your hair. Look don't expect maturity from HIM of all people.
Also likes to carry you everywhere and put everything (including you) on a really high shelf, why? Because chaos.
"I can throw you" "Havik WHY" "what if i throw you across the arena so you can attack people from behind" "WHY WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT"
He's big but he acts like he's small, he either is NOT aware of his height or just does it to mess with you, could be both.
NSFW
Cute aggression but kinky. That's all i can say about him.
But anyway he likes to point out certain details that just make you want to cover your face. He appreciates that you're so easily pinned down. Your feet aren't touching the ground if you're getting fucked on a table or some other random surface.
Please be warned, the man has no filter. His dirty talk is explicit and isn't for the faint of heart.
Goes fucking FERAL when he sees your stomach bulging from his cock. How you can barely handle anything yet you do, easily too. He loves it. "I wonder if i pull out fast enough, i could pull your intestines inside out"
"I can feel myself hitting your lungs, do you like it?" he's exaggerating but he loves how you're basically choking from the pleasure. Although if you're genuinely uncomfortable or hurt, he will stop. As chaotic as he is, he doesn't want to see you hurt or at worst die.
Loves it when you're the dominant one though. He's a switch. He likes it when someone weak like you can overpower him (if you can't, he likes to pretend) you can do anything to him, he can regenerate any part of his body.
Bi-Han (6'2 ft)
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Overbearing as fuck. He treats you like you're just this small vulnerable rabbit. He feels the need to always protect you, i mean someone your size surely can't protect themselves right? That's why you have him! If you think he's overprotective, he's even more so when you're small
You're a porcelain doll to him, one wrong move and you'll be hurt. Although he's very gentle, he's also like a predator, almost a yandere. You're spoiled, he's the grandmaster, who's gonna stop him from using the Lin Kuei's money for you. But you ain't gonna do shit without him "protecting" you
Since every ninja is around 6'2 (except Tremor and Reptile i think) so you bet your ass you can't reach shit but don't worry, Bi-Han is there to help you. You won't be lifting a finger when he's around.
Oh but don't think he's all soft, his anger is fucked. He uses his size to intimidate people, standing behind you like a shadow. Or having you on his lap like a pet.
Your size means you're also easily movable. He uses this to his advantage to just carry you around or pick you up if he needs you.
NSFW
Again, predator/prey. He absolutely takes advantage of the fact that you're so weak compared to him. The way he can make you whine with one of his fingers, gives him an ego boost. "I can't wait to stretch you to the limits"
Everything about him screams possessive and the fact that you look so small and weak compared to him makes it even worse. The fact that he can just wrap his hand around your whole neck. The fact that you cry every time he fucks you, he lives for it.
He'll pin you down, bite you, everything that you'll love today but regret tomorrow. His grip is bruising but no worries, he'll make sure to take care of you after it. His hands would be cold enough to soothe the pain
Seeing you grip onto him, how he overpowers you and you're hugging him as if he's the only person that could keep you safe. God he could go another round just from seeing it.
Kuai Liang (6'2 ft)
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Not as obsessive as his brother, he's respectful. He loves you and he'll make sure you know it. He wants you to feel protected but not scared. Although he discourages you from fighting because he's scared that you'll get overpowered.
He's pretty self aware about his height but he won't make it your problem.
He LOVES it when you wear his clothes or any oversized shirt. He just wants to choke you with his chain and hug you until you can't breathe.
He likes to hold your face with both of his hands and just squish your cheeks. His hands pretty much cover your face. Oh and he doesn't mind carrying you everywhere he goes, it's embarrassing but if you want him to do it, he'll handle the teasing, as long as you're happy.
Does that thing where he just puts his hands on your face, grabbing your head like a basketball. He isn't really thinking about anything, he just does it sometimes. Also accidentally gained the reflex of having to crouch just to go face to face with you. Yes its a bit degrading but he'll snap out of it and go back to his normal position.
NSFW
The fact that you're so light and small compared to him makes it so easy for him to just pin you against a wall. He loves the sense of power that he has over you. You're so vulnerable and he could just defeat you.
To his dismay, he's pretty similar to his brother but much more merciful and less degrading. "So small, so weak, i could just break you"
He would tie you up with his chains and just let you warm up his cock, his big arms wrapping around your neck while he studies in his room. His hand would wander down, cupping your stomach or thighs. Feeling your head lean back on his chest while you beg for him to move.
In his mind, you're like a pocket pussy, a cute toy but he would never mention it. He has a filter but his mind does not. He would love to see you beg that he's too big, that it hurts, your hole not closing up after he's done with you, he wants to see it but he would never say it to you, its too embarrassing.
Your small frame when you go all limp after a session looks so adorable that he just wants to hold your hips down and use you until you're all loose and open. "I'll mold you into my shape, i need you to be mine" he pants out, biting your shoulder, he really is similar to his brother even if he denies it.
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flamingpudding · 10 months
Text
DPxDC Family Week June 24 (Day 7)
Prompts: Distant Relatives | Engrave
A/N: This is what I believe some would call straight up crack :D
AO3 Link: DPxDC Family Week Contributions
How do you tell your great great great great great (how many greats do you add when the child is the x-generation after about… how many years again? Danny had lost count) grand nephew that the ghost king, he just summoned, with an old family heirloom is his granduncle of many generations?
"Batman. Why does the pendant you gave me summon the fucking Ghost King?" Danny heard a familiar man in a trench coat say next to his nephew (he decided he needed to keep it simple there were too many greats to count)
The batman grunted glaring at the man, Danny blinked finally recognising the guy.
"Aren't you the guy who sold like a tenth of your soul to Ellie's spouse? I am sure I also heard Lucifer complaining that Mammon got more parts of your soul than he has." Danny mused as he looked down at them in his eldritch form. Noting how his nephew tensed as he got past that pathetic wall of protection.
Honestly all the protective engravings he had gifted his nephew and nieces through out generations were a hundred times better. How else would a place like Gotham survive on only Lady Gotham as spiritual protection from ghosts of the Ghost Zone and his former rogues that still liked to mess with his children, nephews and nieces? At least Jazz's branch of the family was safe from them this way. He had baby proofed the entire town or better every town a part of his branch family lived in.
"So, trading game, why did you summon me?" He would have liked to stay hidden, you know? The branch family had long forgotten their relation to the Ghost King and Danny had easily accepted that. His own child of chaos had not so much and preferred to play with the earth family branch but that's besides the point. They had used the pendant to summon him, with his own personal engraving. Did that mean they remembered or did his son let something slip to his cousin?
"Trading game." Someone snorted and for the first time since he got summoned Danny noticed the audience around him. His eldritch form did the equivalent to stunt blinking as he straightened up and took count of the children of his nephew. Baby Ghost, Baby Menace, Baby Stalker and Baby Stabby were there.
A gasp left his lips. A Baby Ghost was sick! In a puff of greenish smoke his eldritch form was dismissed and he changed to his favorite 20 years old Phantom form, rushing past his nephew and trading game.
"You poor baby! I didn't realize you were this sick! If I had known I would have done something way sooner!" He fretted as he inspected one of his nephew's babies, hovering around the boy poking and prodding the little guy, well little to him anyway.
"Who are you calling a baby?! Get your fucking hands of me!" Danny only hummed, patting the baby's head, only a little sad that he couldn't look at his face as Baby Ghost was wearing his favorite red explosive helmet and was on duty.
But on second thought seeing their cute little uniforms live was way better than when he had watched them through his ice mirrors. "Don't worry little Red Hood. You will be feeling a whole lot better soon. Your Uncle Danny will make sure of it."
"The fuck?" The sick baby probably looked at Danny like he had gone insane and the ghost king could only laugh. Good had it been long since he interacted with the earth branch family let alone humans. Maybe he should start accompanying his youngest to his visits to earth.
"Constantine! I thought the sigils were supposed to contain him!" He heard his nephew grunt and Danny grinned over his shoulder at them.
"My little nephew. I granted you way better engravings than this pathetic wall of protection." As if to prove a point he flew around the babies, stopping by the youngest and pulling his sword from him. There were gasps of shock as well as complaints and he couldn't help the laugh as little Baby Stabby tried to lunge at him but got held back by the eldest Baby Menace. He just held the sword towards his nephew and trading game as he held his palm against it and let his power flow. Soon the sigils he had placed on the sword as a homecoming present to the youngest baby, when he started living with his nephew, started to appear, glowing and shining.
"You… you engraved your sigils on things the bats own?!" Disbelieve clearly coloring the trench coats' voice as the man paled. His nephew appeared to be close to start brooding like he had seen him do a couple of times through the ice mirrors. Danny returned the sword, huffing amused how little Robin instantly inspected the sword again, the engravings no longer visible.
"Of course I did. I promised my sister a long time ago that I would always protect her children. Though the engravings were certainly hard to hide from one of your babies."
"Sister? Babies?" Baby Stalker aka Red Robin aka little Tim asked and Danny coed. This baby always reminded him of his best friend Tucker and he was glad to have a technology adept child in the family again.
"Yes your great great great uh…" he stopped thinking how many greats he needed to add and ended up sighing compromising with: "...your grandmother many generations ago."
"How many of our things did you engrave?" His nephew finally grunted out, trench coat guy definitely looking like he was having an aneurysm by now.
"Don't remember, decorations, jewelry, toys, weapons, I think I even engraved your belt buckle." The ghost king shrugged, he honestly didn't. Ellie liked to joke that he was way too protective of the earth branch with the amount of protective engravings and sigils he had put up for them without them even knowing. She was still a little cross with them when they started forgetting about their ghostly part of the family after Jazz died.
There was a distinctive frustrated sigh and for a second Danny did feel bad for his nephew. Maybe he should not have just simply spewed everything but he couldn't hold himself back when he saw the sick baby. He was protective of his family, sue him. At least he hadn't given any of his nephews potential mates a shovel talk yet, not like he had with Ellie's spouse anyway. Jazz had banned him from using Fright Knight's Soul Shredder on humans after he had mentally scared and traumatized her first boyfriend with it. Apparently the guy had been too weak to handle it and lay sick in bed for a while after his return from the nightmare realm.
That reminded him! Turning around he flew up to the sick baby again who flinched back from his touch. He ignored that and only made a calming thrilling noise, calling out to the baby's sick core.
"Get the fuck away-"
Poor baby must be suffering badly from uncontrolled anger and ghostly intermittent explosive disorder. No wonder he hadn't developed any of his powers yet. That Disorder tended to be violent, especially the ghostly kind. Carefully letting his power wash over the baby, Danny coaxed out the little underdeveloped core. Usually he would make sure to do these kinds of things for any of his children, nieces and nephews in a safe environment but this was an exception. It was a sick baby core that would receive long lasting damage if not treated.
Gasp resounded as the tiny core came out of the baby's chest, not wasting any time Danny refresh the ectoplasm in it and removed the corrupted one. He then sent the core back into the baby's chest patting him where it sunk back into the body.
"There you go! Should be all good now!" A second after he said it Danny blinked at all the weapons that were pointed at him. He flinched a little as Baby Menace let electricity spark near him.
"WAIT THAT IS THE GHOST KING YOU IDIOTS!" Trading game screamed, apparently finally waking up from whatever stupor he had been in.
"So? He did something to Todd. Who knows what that was." Danny cooed, he knew Baby Stabby cared, his own youngest was similar in that way, just more chaotic in his display of affection, which also earned him his title. Little Damian was also the most intune with ghostly etiquette next to Baby Ghost, considering the reason for the nickname Danny gave him.
"And he can destroy entire dimensions! Do you guys want to doom us all?!" Trench coat countered very much insistent that the babies pull back their weapons.
Danny in return only huffed in annoyance and rolled his eyes. Like he would destroy the home of the earth branch. That man was talking rather rudely to them and he was also stopping him from bonding with his nephews' babies. "Buzz of trading game. This is a family matter and if the babies want to bond then we will bond."
After a moment of consideration he added. "Also don't talk to them like that. They are royalty and I will not have you disrespect them."
With a wave of his hand a green portal opened below the man swallowing him. Being nice Danny decided to drop the man off in his own home. He was the one that taught his nephew how to use the pendant again after all. But he wanted to be left alone with his family. Before his nephew or the babies could panic he smiled brightly and said. "Don't worry I sent him home to his house of mysteries or whatever he calls it. So we can have some family time! Besides, my In-law wouldn't be happy if I harmed his contract even if his soul is a trading game among the demons…"
They all shared a look and seemed to take the ghost king's words for it. Especially as litte Jason finally got out of his shock, patting at his own chest and mentioning that he indeed did feel better. Saying that there was no Pit Madness in his mind anymore, huh so that's what the Disorder got called on earth.
They instantly questioned Danny of what he did to which their ghostly uncle only smiled at the once sick baby without answering. He would have Frostbite to take a second look soon though, just to be safe.
"You mentioned us to be royalty?" The gruff voice his nephew put on when on duty resounded and a warm smile spread across the ghost kings face to the wonder of the bat-clan present.
"I thought that information got passed down through all the generations like the summoning pendant." The ghost king tilted his head. "You do know your part of the Infinite Realms Royalty right?"
"We… are royalty? For real?" One of the babies slowly asked and Danny grinned at them.
"Of course you are. In fact, the little Baby Ghost here-" He flew up to Jason, the once sick baby and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders. "Is the fifth in line should neither my children, nore Ellie or her children want to take over the throne when I don't want it anymore and don't feel like bothering on waiting for someone to beat me in a succession battle."
"Red Hood is? Shouldn't it be like Batman or Robin?" Little Tim asked and Danny sadly shook his head.
"By earth standards, sure. Not by Ghost Zone standards though. They don't have a core, it would be different if they develop a core after death but right now? It's baby Hood here who is in line."
"So… to sum it up." The oldest baby started packing his weapons away and Danny felt just a little bit disappointed but the youngest had his sword out. So maybe a bit of bonding would still happen now that the earth branche knew about their relationship again.
"B is a descendant of your sister which makes him royalty and in turn all his children, blood and adopted equally? And Red Hood is even in line for the throne of another dimension because he has, what you call a core?"
"Yup." Danny popped the 'p', he was about to explain more considering his nephew had adopted quite the stoic look and the babies did appear to become slowly a little too overwhelmed. When a red portal opened and his own son decided to join the family reunion.
"Dad! What is taking you so long? Aunt Ellie is sending me to fetch you cause she thinks you're skipping your meeting with the observants again!"
"KLARION?!" Baby Stalker shouted and Danny blinked. Oh right, his own baby boy liked to bond with his cousin's babies. When was the last time his baby boy visited earth? Oh the babies were taking on fighting stances. How sweet of them! Even his nephew was tensing up and looked ready to fight.
"Baby Spook, are you here to bond with your cousin's again?" Sue him, he couldn't help the excitement. His little chaos was the most interested in playing with his earth branch family compared to everyone else in the ghost branch, including Ellie's children. They liked to mess with entire dimensions though and nearly caused at least three wars in the last ten years. They had also inherited Ellie's ire in regards to the earth branch forgetting their existence. That's why his youngest son had taken it upon himself to teach and bond with the little ones here.
"Bond?" Little Tim questioned while his son sighed.
"Beings of the Infinite Realms bond via fighting. How else are we going to teach babies how to protect themselves and become stronger?" The Lord of Chaos explained in exasperation like he was talking to a toddler. Considering their age differences he kind of was, Danny mused.
"Hold on, does that mean all the times you spent attacking was…?"
"Me bonding with you babies, yes. My siblings as well as older cousins aren't interested so of course that leaves me, the heir and superior cousin, to take care of our earth bound family."
"Even when you messed with the watchtower?"
Klarion arched an eyebrow at Batman. "Just because you are the oldest among the earthly doesn't mean you're any less of a toddler."
"Klarion." Danny warned, his cousins might be babies by ghost terms but that didn't mean he could act all arrogantly with them. Danny might have spoiled the boy since he was his youngest child but he surely had raised him better than that.
"No bonding today, Dad, you do have a meeting scheduled." A sigh left his lips, he guessed it was time to return. The disappointment must have been written all over the ghost king's face as his son huffed in amusement. "Maybe next time, Dad. You can come alone… if you get away from the observants."
"Alright, alright." Agreeing, Danny flew over to the summoning cycle and picked up the pentant before floating to his nephew.
The boy took a step back from him but Danny just smiled and continued forward, placing the pendant around Batman's neck. "My calling card, little nephew. We don't exactly have phones in the Infinite Realms. So use that to call me any time, though now that you guys got reminded about your relation to me I will make sure to come visit more often and not just watch and protect you from the other side."
"See you later Amadillos"
"Bye Bye Baby Bats!"
With that he didn't leave his nephew and the babies time to respond as he opened a portal and he and his son returned to the Infinite Realms, where an angry Ellie was waiting for him. Oh boy…
Meanwhile the bat clan exchanged looks slowly digesting the information dump that had just happened. They had just wanted to have Constantine check on the engraving they had on a family heirloom that happened to be similar to one that was found on an ancient egyptian summon plate and had caused some rather dangerous events.
Who would have thought that the Ghost King himself would tell them that they were apparently related and royalty in another dimension?
"I am so going to rub it in Roy's face that I am Royalty." Red Hood broke the silence.
"I always knew I was of royal descent." Robin added holding himself even prouder than before.
"Am i the only one losing my shit here that B and Robin are apparently blood related to Klarion? Also… just a warning I am going to start digging into the Family tree now." Red Robin informed with a glint in his eyes hidden behind his mask. He was definitely not asking for permission to do so.
"The Ghost King kept calling us babies though." Nightwing sounded amused, watching at how his brothers were taking the news and wondered how the rest of the family would react.
While Batman on the other hand was brooding and appeared to be severely constipated, probably thinking of all the worst case scenarios and most likely trying to figure if he needed a contingency plan for their newly discovered interdimensional family or not.
John Constantine on the other hand awoke back in his home and let out a long and suffering groan with the new knowledge he gained. Apparently the ghost king's in-law had a contract with him and now he also couldn't even be rude to the bats anymore because they were royalty and he would be screwed and potentially risk his entire existence should the Ghost King take offense. He was fucked the next time he had to deal with the bat-clan again.
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3d-wifey · 7 months
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NSFT Alphabet: MK1 Johnny Cage Edition
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A/N: Wrote this to hold you Johnny girls (gender neutral) over until I finish that smut 😙 Plus, I find writing these Alphabets for a character in preparation to write full-fledged smut for them is very helpful in capturing accurate characterization. It's almost like a writing exercise. I've written three different ones so far and I tried to keep them in character, if that makes sense. Like, I tried putting their personality and language in it. Okay, enjoy.
A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)
Talking. So much talking. But, honestly, did you expect anything else? As he’s pulling out, as he’s carrying you to the shower, as you’re washing his hair. And when it inevitably leads to shower sex, he’s talking then too. You’ll never meet a man who loves the sound of his own voice more than Johnny Cage.
B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)
Uh, how ‘bout the artillery canons strapped to his arms? C’mon, I mean, who wouldn’t want a ticket to the gun show? 
Face. Is saying your face too cliche? Hear him out! You want specifics? He can do specifics! He likes the dimples that pop in your cheeks when he finally gets you to laugh at one of his jokes, the little crease you get between your eyebrows when he’s pissed you off, the adorable way your nose scrunches up when he does that one thing with his tongue that drives you crazy. See? Specifics!
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)
Pull out game…very weak. Embarrassingly weak, actually. He swears he’s never had this problem before. His ability to pull out in the nick of time has always been something he’s prided himself on. However, he vastly underestimated just how good you’d feel. He’s clean, you’re clean, and, hey! You both prefer the feeling of hitting it raw, the way nature intended it. However, your pussy’s like wet kryptonite. And he’s only a man. A very awesome man, but a man nonetheless. So birth control it is! Or, if you’re turned off by all the side effects, he can be talked into a vasectomy. It’s either that or give up the sweet, sweet embrace of your walls when he’s balls deep. 
On second thought, that vasectomy sounds pretty tempting. It is reversible, right?
D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Johnny would leak his own sex tape. Plain and simple. He’d leak it from a burner account and watch the chaos ensue. There’s no shame in his game. Hey, it’s ranked the Number 1 Celebrity sex tape for a reason.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)
Is this even a question? Actors, singers, models, directors, producers. He’s THE Johnny Cage, Hollywood royalty. He’s fucked actual royalty. You’re in good hands—as long as he cares about you. If you’re a random hookup, then he’s not really working for your pleasure here. You’ll definitely cum, but it’s mainly a pit stop on his way to the finish line. 
F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying)
Reverse cowgirl. Johnny’s an ass man, through and through. He loves fucking up into you and watching your ass ripple with both of your movements. And he loves holding onto you. Big hands grabbing your waist, hips, thighs, and especially your ass. He also loves seeing you both in action. So reverse cowgirl + some artfully placed full-length mirrors = Him wrapping his arms around your stomach, rubbing at your clit, and forcing you to watch yourself as you desperately grind against him, AKA Heaven. 
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)
Oh, c’mon. It isn’t like him to be serious in any situation. He’s gotta slip a joke in every now and then. Get it? Slip a joke in?
H = Hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Wax on, wax off, baby. Smoother than a seal. Or, uh, some other sexy, hairless animal. You mourn when he waxes his happy trail. 
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)
You’ll be surprised by how charming he can be. It’s not all jokes and great orgasms. It’s also loving touches, reverent compliments, and amazing orgasms.
J = Jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)
He’s got a healthy libido and a pretty stacked schedule, so sometimes a quick introduction between his hand and mini Johnny can’t be helped. But he’s also got a smoking hot girlfriend (you), so jerking off by himself is a rare occurrence. 
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Exhibitionism. What can he say? He’s a performer at heart and he loves an audience. But nothing crazy, just your average celebrity having sex on a yacht that’s in full view of the paparazzi. Or the occasional jerking off with you telling him how fast or slow to go. Oh, and you can’t forget about the sex tapes. Man, with the amount of videos he has of the two of you going at it, he could start an archive. You two have definitely ended up on the cover of TMZ and the front page of Twitter.
Voyeurism. But only for you. He’s enthralled by anything you do, including how many of your much smaller fingers will you stuff inside yourself to replicate the feeling of him stretching you wide. It usually leads to you begging for him to touch you, something else he’s in love with. Nothing wrong with a little hands-on audience participation.
Dirty talk. Normally, dirty talk is kind of basic to any old romp in the hay, but Johnny, being Johnny, puts his own Cage flair on it. Those corny oneliners somehow translate to the perfect thing to say to get you hot. He’s like Shakespear, if Shakespear was good-looking and not a virgin. You know what they say: everything sounds better when you’re horny. Who says that? Uh…
Fighting/Sparing which always leads to blood play. Winning a match gets Johnny’s blood pumping. The adrenaline of escaping death and the crowd hyping him up. And the crux of it all is you who happens to get especially wet when he comes to you covered in blood, grinning with a glint in his eyes that’s poorly hidden behind his blood-speckled sunglasses (a glint that many may describe as mania). And it certainly goes the other way. Watching you kick ass makes him harder than a diamond. Sparing together is a no-brainer that leads to fucking on his gym floor, or, honestly, wherever you two fall. Lui Kang must regret making you two his champions in this timeline with how often he’s walked in on you two. Offering to let him join probably doesn’t soften the blow, but, hey, it’s only polite.
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
In his mansion. In one of his lavish beds, or pressed up against the wall-length windows. In his Bentley or in the back of his limo. He’s a big fan of fingering you under the table at an award show and then fucking you in a bathroom at said award show when he should definitely be on stage presenting. For whatever reason, walking the red carpet always gets him worked up. And going to the club together always ends with you riding him in the VIP section.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Such a complex question for a man with complex taste. I’m joking, Johnny is so easy. It’s actually ridiculous how easily you turn him on. Laugh at his joke, hard. Complement his acting or fighting, hard. Running your fingers through his hair/scratching his scalp, hard. Feel him up/tease him in any context, hard. You’re covered in blood after a win, hard, hard, rock hard.
“Are you King Midas? Cuz you make me hard with just one touch.”
“That one was actually kinda clever.” 
N = No (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Nothing too gross. He’s all for sloppy, messy sex, but he has to draw the line somewhere. There’s nasty 👁🫦👁 and there’s n a s t y 👁👄👁. 
He likes to tease/do the opposite of what you say, but if you’re not 100% on board with what he’s doing, then he’s stopping it then and there. Remember: there’s nothing sexier than explicit consent!
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Preferred to receive before he started dating you, and only ever had the urge to go down on someone if he had been drinking before. After you started dating, he definitely loved it whenever you gave him head, but he didn’t realize how much pleasure he could get from giving you pleasure. 
He loves sloppy head, giving and receiving, so if you weren’t wet before, you definitely will be after he gets his mouth on you. 
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)
Depends on when and where you’re doing it. And if you two are “allowed” to be doing it in said place.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Big fan of the guy who came up with the idea of quickies, enough said. 
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)
C’mon. He’s the leading source of your sex tapes getting leaked. I mean, how do you think the paps keep finding you in compromising positions? A little tip-off to them while you take his tip, ha!
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)
It’s like he runs off horsepower, good God. If you’re trying to go until he’s tired out, it’s gonna be a couple of rounds until then.
T = Toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)
He’s a fan of dildos. Specifically, watching you fuck yourself with one. “Go ahead, baby. Show me how bad you want me.” And show him, you do. God, you know how to put on a show. But you shouldn’t have to settle for some random dildo. You’re with the Cage man, and he would get a mold of his dick made for you. And they say he’s not romantic. 
Strap-on. That’s it. And he takes it well ;).
Remote-controlled vibrators, for you and him. Hell, let’s make a game out of it. See who can last the longest in public, there are no losers! 
U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)
His version of teasing is doing the opposite of what you said to do. You want him to speed up? He’s slowing down and making sure you feel every inch inside you. Oh, keep his hands above his head? You gonna make him? He’s a total brat, but you knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to date him.
V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Heh, yeahhh. He’s real loud. Moans, groans, screams, whimpers. You name it, he’s doing it. It’s the performer in him. And because he knows you like how he sounds.
W = Wild Card (A random headcanon for the character)
Tattoos? Sexy as hell. If you were to ever get his name tattooed on you (preferably a tramp stamp), then you might as well start planning what flowers you want in your bouquet. I could see him getting your name tattooed on him too. Probably on his pelvis, in the middle of his v-line. In case anyone ever needs a reminder of who his dick belongs to.  
Type of guy to dedicate a Mortal Kombat match to you, and then lose. Ah, I’m joking. He’d beat his opponent’s ass all because you promised him victory sex if he won and he doesn’t take victory sex lightly.
X = X-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
He’s got an 8.5–8.9 inch hog, shower not a grower. Little Johnny isn’t so little. There’s a reason he’s alright with doing full-frontal nudity if the scene calls for it. They’ve had to CG out his bulge in post-production in every Ninja Mime movie. It’s not his fault spandex happens to be the clingiest material known to man.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
Higher than Mount Fuji. He’s a stallion in his prime with a gorgeous girlfriend. His spare time is filled with filling you. And you both tend to feed off of each other, so all it takes is for one of you to be the tiniest bit turned on, and then, boom! You’re both desperately grinding against each other in a supply closet. Ain’t that just the way?
Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)
Depends. He’s kind of like a dog that needs to tire himself out before he can sleep. 
Click for a Johnny Cage-shaped surprise👀👀
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nohoperadio · 3 days
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That cool bee book I was talking about a while ago mostly refrains from philosophical digressions (which I think is a strength, I appreciated how the author had total confidence that just clearly presenting the facts about his subject would be enough to make a fascinating book without the need for any "...and here's why that should blow your mind" editorializing, and he's totally right), but there was one towards the end I've found myself thinking about a lot, which is: he wants people to stop using "self-consciousness" (i.e. the concept exemplified by the mirror test but used implicitly or explicitly in tons of other contexts) as a criterion for which animals can be considered sentient/morally relevant/having significant inner lives/however you want to describe it. Not, as you might expect, because he thinks it's an unreasonably high bar to meet, but because it's such a low bar that it produces no distinctions: he argues that basically any animal with any kind of developed central nervous system has to have some kind of self-consciousness almost by definition.
The example I remember best is: imagine you can see an object in your visual field getting closer to you. No matter the specifics, it's obviously always going to make a huge difference to how you evaluate this situation whether the cause of the object getting closer is a] the object is moving towards you, or b] you are moving towards the object. If a, then something might be pursuing you or falling on you or a thousand other things that are just not even worth considering in the case of b. But visually the two cases are indistinguishable; if you're going to be able to track the difference, your brain has to be putting at least some work into keeping tabs on what your own intentions are and what choices you're making as you move through the world, predicting the expected consequences of those choices, and maintaining a fairly tidy mental separation between stuff in the world that you're making happen and stuff in the world that's just happening of its own volition. Otherwise, every time you walk towards a rock you'll freak out and think the rock is rolling into you, or vice versa.
And it's not hard to see how this applies to your entire sensory world right, it applies to sounds and tactile sensations and even feelings internal to your body to some extent, if you're going to both perceive the world and take actions in the world then it's mandatory to mentally separate yourself and the world before that's going to yield even an ounce of helpful information, you just can't function successfully on the most basic level if you're processing stuff that you're doing on the same level as stuff that's happening, if you're in that state then you simply don't have a usable model of the world at all, you just have chaos.
So you can very easily eliminate a certain seductive narrative about the evolution of consciousness, which starts with very primitive animals who are mentally processing nothing but basic sensory inputs, then as you rise up the chain more complex animals are forming concepts of objects and building up a more nuanced understanding of the world, until finally you approach humans and the mind becomes so subtle and sophisticated that it gains access to this special advanced meta-level of thought where it can even understand itself! No, the self is precisely the one idea that has to be in place from the very beginning, before any of it has even the most rudimentary practical value. Self-consciousness isn't the pinnacle of the mind's evolution, it's one of the lowest, most basic foundations that everything else builds off of.
I think this is really cool stuff! I don't know enough about the relevant academic philosophy of mind debates to say how far all this does or doesn't speak to that, maybe someone will tell me the "self-consciousness" concept being attacked here is a strawman somehow, I don't know. But it's definitely impacted the way I (just a dumb guy who likes creatures) think about our small small cousins and what their lives might be like and I think it's super interesting. If you think it's interesting too then maybe you wanna buy The Mind of a Bee by Lars Chittka and read it. It's mostly not about this stuff, as I say it's light on philosophy and heavy on bee-life immersion, but if you actually read this whole post then you're probably in the market for that I feel like.
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chunky-chee · 1 month
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Okay, so I know a solid 40% of the new Fantasy High was about Tracker "There's still deep attraction here" O'Shaughnessy, but HERE ME OUT
Gertie Bladeshield is the perfect woman for Kristen Applebees.
Cause, like, look, there was a lot of talk in episode 11 about impulsivity and chaos as an aspect of Kristen's character, mainly in how it's mirrored in Princess "Kristen if she had money" Naradriel, but it's also been a general focus this season, especially in how she often uses it to guard her emotions. Think back to "That's what you think", an incredible improv moment, but if you look at the big picture, Kristen's estranged parents make an incredibly inflammatory statement about her religion right after actively bullying her little brother, and instead of honoring any of the actual negative emotions she's being filled with in that moment, she pirouettes away. It's brought up in the adventuring party after this exact episode how Kristen is a cleric, a high-wisdom class that is naturally insightful, but uses these silly deflections to hold other people back from being insightful into her (hence Mac & Donna's lifetime insight disadvantage)
This isn't just limited to small moments, too. To take a broader look at the season so far, Kristen's chaotic, shrimp-jumping, wrangler-wearing, salsa-dipping, middle-school-campaigning, steel-workers-union-supporting bid for class president is often shown explicitly as a distraction from her existentially important job as the only cleric of Cassandra. Even when trying to earnestly apologize to Cassandra and prove to them that she's gonna prioritize her over class presidency, the only way she can articulate it is "You're the meat, mama." Her emotions are always guarded by some amount of chaos and impulsivity.
Now, how does that relate to Gertie "I've had a crush on you for a really long time" Bladeshield?
In both of the two scenes we've gotten of The Best D20 NPC (/j (but I do really like her)), Gertie has shown a pretty similar propensity for making bold, chaotic decisions in the heat of the moment. However, in my observation, these decisions do NOT come from a place of emotional suppression. Quite the opposite, actually.
Think back to her Grand Entrance into the narrative. Gertie, being one of the last people awake at Fabian's party, gifts her longtime-crush a jar of honey, something that connects directly to her passion/special-interest of beekeeping, in a homemade container designed as a pun on Kristen's last name. (in hindsight, the crush was very obvious) Then, in the middle of her infodumping to her about honey, Kristen's rich friend makes an incredibly dismissive remark about her good-natured gift. This obviously pisses her off, but unlike Kristen "That's what you think" Applebees, Gertie "I don't give a shit who's kid you are" Bladeshield lets herself feel those emotions very loudly, immediately starts a duel with possibly one of the most accomplished sword-fighters in the history of Aguefort, and declares him a life-long nemesis. She acts very brashly and impulsively, but in a way that doesn't hide her emotions, instead expressing them.
(I know there's a lot of talk about outbursts of anger being tied to Ankarna, but not only does the scene not really seem like foreshadowing to me, it's more interesting to see it through the lens of being Gertie's actual actions)
This trend continues with the 12th most noteworthy thing to have happened in episode 11 (which incredibly high acclaim), where after being explicitly asked to talk about bees by her crush, and being placed inches away from her face, kisses her on the lips. Now, excusing the albeit upsetting lack of consent, it once again shows Gertie acting very impulsively in a way that exposes her feelings to the people she likes. With these two instances of characterization being literally the only two scenes we get with her, it poses her as a very interesting parallel to Kristen, someone who shares in her willingness to make impulsive decisions, but differs wildly from her in the way she uses them to react to strong emotions.
However, does this really make Gertie the Autism to her ADHD?
(idk if Gertie really shows autistic traits, I just wanted to say that) Well, part of what Tracker a good companion for Kristen was that, as a fellow cleric, she naturally had very high wisdom, meaning she had enough insight to look past the layers of shrimp and salsa and engage with her on a deep level. However, clerics aren't the only class that cast spells with wisdom, so do rangers, including swarm-keeper rangers, which is a subclass that both has a good few abilities focused on spell-casting and was confirmed to be Gertie's subclass in an adventuring party. While her highest stat still could be dex (which, come to think of it, is a hilarious contrast to Kristen), there's no doubt that Gertie has a higher chance than most at being able to look past Kristen's barriers and see the complex hive of sweet, buzzing emotions underneath.
Hell, maybe that's where Gertie's crush comes from in the first place. Maybe, seeing this popular, proudly sapphic cleric be incredibly playful and chaotic on school grounds, she not only saw a bit of herself, but a little more. Perhaps, the type of mind that dedicates itself to allowing small, harmless critters to prosper even when no-one cares to join her club, is also the type of mind able to recognize when someone isn't allowing their truest emotions to prosper, making her wonder if they might have something to gain from sharing some of that chaos, using it not to hide, but to be free.
Or maybe it's just cause her last name has "bees" in it, idk.
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damnation-if · 9 months
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Hi, I just played the demo and I loved it! I was wondering if you could give us an estimate of when the next update is coming?👉👈 (Or link a relevant post, if you already talked about and I just didn't scroll down far enough to see it 😆)
Also, I wanted to check, can you be in a romantic relationship with more than one character, and not just a sexual one? Because I might be in love with every single character in this game 🤭
hi, thank you! i'm glad you're enjoying the game :) i've answered the question about romancing multiple characters a couple of times in a couple of different asks but the posts all kind of link back to each other so you should be able to find all the info by. following the various links in each ask i think, starting here XD
i'm going to put the answer to your other question under a cut because some of it is quite emotional for me
i did Sort Of talk about this at the time when it happened, by which i mean that rather than making a post, i talked about it in the tags of an unrelated post i was using to distract myself (i think it was character playlists and how i'm not sure if it's a good idea to do them or not if i recall), but earlier this year while i was already going through a really rough time, my laptop died and i lost a lot of work on the game.
i knew my laptop was old and that this was possibly approaching so i made regular backups and the good news is that because i write in a separate word document and keep backups of those also i didn't actually lose any Writing. however. my twine has a problem in that every second or third game file that i publish from the build is Haunted - it contains passages i removed weeks ago, or writing that i deleted long before publishing it, that kind of weird annoying shit. (other authors have seen my files do this lmfao) and i just have to hope that the backups i make either won't be needed or aren't haunted. anyway... because hope is futile, the last backup i made was indeed haunted, and utterly useless to me as a recovery file. because it's just twine, i still have all the writing, as i mentioned... but i would have to re-code the entire chapter and put it all back together again because of how much the file did not export, which is a complicated and daunting process.
so i made a rambling explanation of this in the tags of a post and decided to take maybe a couple of days off and cool down from this specific disaster before getting into it.
i wake up the next morning to find the IF community absolutely plastered all over with Helpful Informative PSA posts about how Silly it is not to make backups and how if you just make backups you'll never have problems again and you should know better than to not make backups.
now. i'm not a catastrophist. i know for a fact that nobody was making or spreading these posts out of cruelty or a desire to make me feel bad. i also know that it's not particularly realistic to expect people who don't even know me to hunt down the source of a piece of hearsay that's like "i heard from someone that someone said that an author lost a bunch of their files and is really upset about it" to find out what the situation is and whether or not it's what they imagine. i don't even think the vast majority of people knew who it was that was the author involved, or who i am either.
but to already be going through an extremely stressful time and then lose my laptop on top of that and then be obliquely referenced by people i thought of as my peers as kind of just a big silly bumbling goose who didn't know how to manage my files and a "don't be like this person" attitude really, really hurt me. i can't express just how deeply it hurt me. one particular author was openly laughing at me and saying it was my own fault for being too stupid to make backups using a certain twine peripheral program.
so. there was a period of time where i could have found the motivation to just restart the whole chapter myself and re-code it in a frenzy because i wanted to get right back into writing it because. like a lot of authors, i LOVE writing. that's why i do this even when it's difficult. but that potential recovery was sandblasted away by the reactions of people that i thought of as my colleagues in some sense (even though i understand that they didn't do it with bad intentions, in most cases). and i hope people can understand that it greatly lengthened the amount of time i needed to spend away from the game recovering emotionally, despite being a Very Small issue to most people. i'm literally upset again just typing out this answer lmfao
however one other small piece of good news is that my laptop seemingly just lost the ability to turn itself on (because of its age) so i Think the hard drive is intact. meaning that i think i can get someone to pull all the files off it and just have them back fine once i do. the other piece of bad news is that my life is a trainwreck! and i cannot afford that right now. which is why i sort of pivoted to writing the 2000 follower celebration sidegame as a way to enjoy myself while i hurtle through hell sdjgbdfhfdgh
shortly after this thing with the laptop the house i was living in was sold out from underneath me, even though it wasn't supposed to be, and i had to find somewhere to live with my 18 year old cat, but the city i lived in had zero places that would allow cats (they're totally fine with Dogs though of course) so i had to move to an entirely new city on my own while worrying about her health. and right now i spend every fortnight desperately trying to scrape together enough to survive the next fortnight. there were entire months where i had no access to internet! it's been pretty Bad!!
so i get that people really want updates, and i'm really flattered that people do and it makes me happy that people like the game so much. but i am currently expending so much time and energy trying not to die lmfao, and i need to save up the money to get my files back around that. i truly cannot tell you when the next update will be, but i promise you that it Haunts me, probably more than you can imagine XD the sidegame will Definitely come out before it though, if that's something you're looking forward to.
thank you again for your message, and i'm sorry that i don't have good news for you. but i am trying, constantly. every day.
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andvys · 8 months
Text
I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 3
Tumblr media
Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of emotional abuse (Chrissy’s mom), absent parent, daddy issues, jealousy. Billy being Billy… it’s not what you think
Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler
Summary: Someone you don't want to see shows up at your doorsteps.
Word count: 6.7k
Note: @mysticmunson thank you for helping me as always, you're the best! @somethingvicked thank you for the idea with Billy, it's working perfectly for this story
series masterlist
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Steve had been so on edge ever since he found out about you and Billy. He knows that Tommy and Carol aren’t the most honest people. They strive off of chaos, they live for the drama and the lies and constantly make up new things to gossip about but for some reason, he believes their words this time. Billy had been following you around ever since he broke up with you– he had been running after you for some time now but never like this. You always rejected him, you were taken and not interested but now Steve can’t help but wonder, were you truly not interested or were you just rejecting him because you were with him? Were you secretly into Billy all this time? The thought of it makes him feel sick. 
He sits in his car, bouncing his knee as he stares out the window, waiting for his girlfriend. The parking lot is filled with students, he hears laughter and different voices. He sees Billy walking towards his car, the usual smug and arrogant look resting on his face. He straightens up, looking around to see if you’re around too, wanting to see if you will get in the car with him. What will he do if you do get into his car? 
“Hey!” 
Nancy’s voice startles him a little, he tears his eyes away from the blue camaro and turns to look at his girlfriend. 
“Hey Nance,” he smiles. He instantly leans closer to her once she’s seated, she meets him halfway, kissing him on the lips. Her eyes are closed, his are open and they flash with curiosity when he sees you through his window. You look his way and it’s enough for him to tense up. 
He expects you to get into Billy’s car but instead you go the other way, you pass by his car and look straight ahead, pretending to not see him or her. He breaks the kiss, Nancy doesn’t seem to mind, she leans back and puts the seatbelt on as she begins to talk about her project. Steve hums and nods along, turning his head to see where you are going. 
Are you going to Heather’s car? To Chrissy’s car? It turns out to be neither of those, instead you leave the parking lot and walk into the direction of the football field. Where are you going? 
“I figured that we could rent a movie tomorrow since we can’t hang out tonight,” Nancy says, “I really wanna get it done. It’s been nice to hang out with Jonathan again though, we should all go out together sometime!”
“Sure,” Steve mumbles and turns back to her when he no longer sees you. 
Her brows are raised and a confused smile is on her lips, “were you even listening?” 
He nods, “yeah, you want me to hang out with Byers,” he says with an eye roll. 
“Hey,” Nancy mumbles, hitting his arm, “he’s nice, you just gotta get to know him.” 
“Sure,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his hair, “nice.” 
Nancy shakes her head at him, raising her arm, she pulls down the sun visor and flips open the small mirror, a piece of paper that was tucked into it falls into her lap. Her brows knit together as she looks down at it. She picks it up, it’s just a simple brown paper that was ripped out of a notebook, she turns it around. Annoyance bubbles inside of her when she sees the writing on the note. It’s not much but it’s from you, it’s not signed but she recognizes your handwriting and the little heart, only you draw it like that. 
I love you 
She presses her lips together and glances over at Steve who is staring into blank space. 
How long has the note been here? Does he even know that it existed? 
“Here,” Nancy mumbles and throws it into his lap. 
Steve glances at her first, brows furrowed and lips parted, he notices the annoyed look on her face. He looks down at the note in his lap. Oh. 
“I didn’t know you still kept her things.”
Steve blinks as he stares at your handwriting. You drew a little heart next to your I love you. He swallows harshly. The weird feeling in his chest returns yet again. He didn’t even know the note was there– you did things like that all the time, leaving little notes everywhere for him to find. He kept them all. 
“I don’t,” he lies as he puts the note in his pocket after folding it, “I didn’t even know it was there. I’ll throw it away later.” 
Nancy nods, eyeing him from the side. She doesn’t like the way he folded the paper so neatly. He should’ve crumpled it up and thrown it out the window. 
“Okay.”
-
The scented candles in your room are lit, making the air smell like pumpkin spice and cinnamon. The light of your salt lamp makes everything appear softer, you never use the big light in your room, you hate it. The police’s every breath you take is playing in the background. 
“Are you going to the winter formal?” Chrissy asks as she flips to the next page of her new fashion magazine. You are both laying on your bed, the decoration pillows all over the floor. You look at the pretty dresses in the magazine. You would be wearing one of those next Friday if Steve wasn’t such a cheating asshole. 
“Nope.” 
She glances at you with a sad look in her eyes, “we could go together.” 
You give her a small smile as you shake your head. 
“No, it’s okay,” you say, “I don’t feel like going anyway, he’s gonna be there with her.” 
She sighs, her lips are set in a frown, “you know, I never liked him. As much as I hate to say it, I’m not surprised about his actions but Nancy?” She mumbles, “who would’ve thought that she’s such a.. bitch.” 
“Yeah, looks deceive, huh?” 
“Totally.” 
You told your friends about what Nancy said in the girls bathroom when she didn’t know that you were there. 
“She looks like one of those church girls.” 
A surprised laugh leaves your lips, “a church girl?” 
“Yeah, she wears those ugly long skirts and those preppy blouses that my mom forces me to wear when we go to church on Sunday’s,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes. 
“Is she a church girl?” You ask. 
She snorts and shakes her head, “I don’t think so, I’ve never seen her around.” 
You nod. 
She flips to the next page, eying all the dresses before her eyes land on the ugliest one, a giggle falling from her lips, she points at it with her pink nails, “looks like something she would wear.” 
You can’t help but laugh. 
“And that’s why she won’t ever be prom queen, that’ll be you,” you say, expecting to see a smile on her face but instead it falls and a frown settles in her features. 
“It’s not prom yet,” she mumbles, “and I don’t really wanna be the queen to some asshole’s king.” 
Raising your brows, you tilt your head as you look at her. Cupping your cheek, you lean your elbow on the pillow beneath you, “you mean, you don’t want to be Jason Carver’s queen?” 
A look of disgust crosses her features and she shudders at the mention of his name. 
“Mom forces me to go with him,” she says, looking like she’s ready to break down out of frustration, “I don’t want to go with him.”
Your gaze softens, you place your hand on her back, “then don’t go with him.”
She keeps her eyes locked on the magazine, “you know how my mom is, I can’t just not go, she’ll make my life a living hell if I don’t do what she says.” 
You never liked Chrissy’s mother, she was always horrible to her. Always pushing her to do and be ‘better’, forcing her to associate herself with people who already climbed up the social ladder, like Jason Carver. 
You sigh, wishing you could help her. 
“What if you just stop doing what she wants you to do?” You shrug. 
She sighs and opens her mouth to speak but you cut her off, holding your hand up, you sit up on your knees, “I know, I know, easier said than done but–” you pause, looking around your room, you eye the freshly washed and ironed cheerleader uniform, the cassettes in the little box on your floor, bands that are his favorites, singers that your friends love so much, you stare at the baby pink wallpaper and the colorful clothes in your messy closet– you should’ve closed the door, the sight of the mess makes you want to groan in annoyance. 
“But?” Chrissy mumbles as she waits for you to continue. 
You blink, tearing your eyes away from all the things in your room that you didn’t come to like on your own. You look back at your best friend. 
“If you do things for others, if you do things because they want you to do them or because they expect you to do them, because they like those things– you will end up feeling miserable at some point, you will lose yourself and one day you’re gonna realize that you don’t even know yourself, that you don’t even know what you like, what you truly want or… who you even are..” 
She lets your words sink in. For a moment it’s silent between the two of you. You look down at your hands while she stares at you. Sadness and realization crossing her features. You are trying to help, she knows it but you are also realizing something about yourself, she can tell by the lost look in your eyes. 
“I know that things would be tense if you just started going against her stupid rules or wishes but you can always come to me if things get tough at home,” you say, reaching out to take her hand, “I’m here and you know my mom won’t mind you staying with us.” 
Her eyes light up at your words, a smile tugs at her lips, she turns her hand around and squeezes yours, “you’re the best, you know that right?” She whispers. 
You smile at her words, you tilt your head, “no, I’m not.”
She frowns and rolls her eyes, “yes, you are.” 
“Says who?” You chuckle. 
“I do,” she says, proudly. 
“Oh,” you smirk, leaning closer to her, you don’t notice the way her eyes widen or the way her cheeks flush a little red, “you do, huh?” 
She blinks, her lips part and she stares at your face. Your face hovers over hers for a second before you lay back down on your bed and reach for the bat shaped pillow, the one you excitedly bought for your ‘halloween’ decoration, hugging it to your chest, you stare up at the ceiling, not noticing her stare or her tense body. 
“A-Are you sure you don’t wanna come to the winter formal?” She asks again. 
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
She looks down at her hands, “okay,” she frowns. 
“Hey,” you whisper, glancing at her, “you’ll still have fun.”
“With Jason?” She mumbles, rolling her eyes, “I doubt that.”
“You can still go with someone else. If your mom is gonna act like a bitch, I’ll kick her ass for you.”
A giggle falls from her lips and she shakes her head as she looks at you with a smile on her face. 
Rolling on your side, you prop your head up on your hand. Curiosity sparks inside of you. 
“Who did you really want to go with?” You ask, “I know there is someone.” You notice the blush on her face and it only deepens the longer you stare at her. 
“Oh uh–” she chuckles nervously, “n-no one, I just, I don’t wanna go with Jason.” 
“Are you sure about that?” 
She nods. 
“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know that, right?” 
“I-I’m not.” 
“Good, we’re best friends, we tell each other everything, right?” 
“Yeah,” she whispers and gives you a smile that doesn’t really reach her eyes. “I’m gonna go now, I still have to study for the math test tomorrow,” she groans. 
“Oh.. yeah,” you mumble, trying to hide the disappointed look on your face. You hate being by yourself, there’s too much going on in your mind when you’re all alone in this house– you used to love it but ever since he left, it’s just been hard. “I gotta start working on the assignment.” 
Chrissy rolls her eyes just the way she did when you told her about who you got partnered up with. 
“You know, you could still take Billy up on that offer.” 
You snort at her words, “I don’t think we need Billy to kick his ass, Heather will do.” 
“Did you know that she accidentally bumped into him at Nick’s party last weekend? He was holding a drink and it got all over Nancy,” she giggles. 
Your eyes widen, you can’t even fight the grin off your face, “no way?” You gasp.
“Yes way,” she laughs as she reaches for her backpack, “he got all pissed and looked like he was ready to fight but when he saw Heather, he got all quiet– he even looked scared.” 
“He should be,” you chuckle. 
“And Nancy got all hysterical and ran off.”
You snort, “she deserved it.”
“She deserves worse for what she did– they both do,” she sighs. 
She never liked Steve, even before you started dating him, she couldn’t stand him. His presence annoyed her and more so when you two got together and she had to watch how he continuously messed with your feelings. 
“Yeah well, I don’t care anymore, I’m moving on…” 
She knows that there is no truth behind your words, you are not moving on. You still love him, she thinks that you always will. You always looked at him like he was the only light in your life, like he was the one who hung every star in the dark sky, it made her hate him even more because he never looked at you like that. 
“I’ll walk you to the door–”
“No, it’s fine,” she smiles, “you don’t have to.” She walks towards you and pulls you into a hug, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She squeezes you tightly before she lets go, giving you another smile. 
“Yeah, still gotta help you pick out the right shoes for your dress,” you say. 
She nods, “and maybe I’ll manage to convince you to come, after all,” she says as she pulls away and begins to walk out of your room, “I’d rather go with you than Jason,” she says quickly before she turns around and leaves the room, saying ‘bye’ in a sing song voice. 
You chuckle and throw your head back against the pillow. 
“Jason Carver,” you mumble in disgust. Not a single person could ever force you to go to the winter formal with him but Chrissy’s mother is the epitome of an evil witch, you know that she will make her life more miserable if she doesn’t do as she says. You understand why Chrissy would rather suffer through the night with him than risk a fight with her mother. 
Not even five minutes after she left, the doorbell rings. Looking around the room, you try to see if she forgot something, that’s what usually happens when she leaves, she rushes back in a few minutes later because she left her keys or something else. Sighing, you push roll out of bed and rush out of the room. 
The doorbell rings again. 
“I’m coming!” You call out, “since when are you so impatient..” 
Your socks are a little slippery on the hardwood floor, careful not to fall, you hold onto the railing as you hurry down the stairs. Grabbing the doorknob, you are already smiling in amusement, “let me guess, you forgot–” with your words caught in your throat and your smile falling quicker than ever, you only manage to stare at him in confusion. 
There he is, Steve Harrington, standing on your front porch with his hands in his pocket and an unreadable expression on his face. What does he want? 
Even though it was him who came here to see you, he stands frozen in place. He stares at you and you stare at him. You are both frozen, time stops, everything stops moving, right now, it’s just the two of you in this world. 
It’s the first time you look at him again, properly. All the sadness, all the pain and the longing comes creeping back. It was there all this time, hidden beneath all the anger but it was easier to deal with it when you started pretending like he didn’t exist anymore, when you forced yourself not to look at him anymore, when you threw all his things away, when you let go of him. How dare he show up here? 
Steve watches the way your eyes flash with confusion, anger and sadness, they soften for a split second. This is the first time you actually look at him again. This is the first time you are forced to acknowledge his presence again. A feeling he can only describe as relief rushes through him when you finally look into his eyes again. 
It feels like forever that you look at each other when in reality only a minute passed since you opened the door. You blink and take a step back, rolling your eyes, you go to shut the door without wanting to hear an explanation as to why he is here– “no.” Is all you say before slamming the door in his face but he is quicker than you, he always was. He places his palm on the door, stopping you from closing it, “wait–”
“Get lost, Harrington.” 
He sighs, he didn’t expect anything else from you.
You try to close the door again but he doesn’t let you, keeping his palm pressed against the wooden door, he stares at you with a stubborn look on his face. God, you want to punch him. 
“What do you want?” You ask as you finally give up and let go of the door, you cross your arms over your chest and take a step back, not looking into his eyes. You raise your brows and glare at him when he invites himself into your house, he shuts the door behind him. You shake your head in disbelief. 
He is wearing the stupid flannel that you used to love so much, the one you always stole from him– does it still smell like you? 
“We have to work on the assignment together.” 
Is he serious? 
“I told you, I’ll do it myself,” you snap at him before you turn around and make your way into the kitchen in hopes that he will leave but instead, he follows you into the kitchen. 
“We’re partners, it wouldn’t be fair to let you do all the work by yourself.”
You clench your jaw at his words, how ironic of him to say that. Turning the light on in the kitchen, you walk towards the fridge and open it, distracting yourself from his presence by staring at all the food and drinks. 
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m used to doing all the work myself, my previous partner wasn’t much of a help,” you murmur, “in any way.”
Steve scoffs at your words, though he looks down in embarrassment, knowing exactly what things you are talking about. He places his hands on his hips and glances at you through his lashes, he eyes you for a moment before he speaks up, “listen, I-I wanna do better in school and I really want to work on this assignment.” 
You close your eyes, shaking your head, you take a deep breath. Why did he have to sit next to you today? 
“Since when do you care about being better in school?” You ask in annoyance, reaching for a water bottle, you close the fridge again and turn around to face him. He breaks eye contact the moment you raise your brows in question. 
He shrugs, “I wanna graduate next year and Mr. Higgins said that I–”
“Don’t care,” you interrupt him and sigh of boredom. 
He looks a little taken aback, furrowing his brows, he stares at you for a moment as he presses his lips back together. When he came here, he didn’t expect you to be so.. mean. Steve only ever knew you as the sweet girl, not once did you treat him badly in all the years he has known you. You never gave him the cold shoulder, not even when he deserved it. You were always kind, gentle and forgiving. 
Heartbreak changes a person but not like this, right? What happened in those two months ever since he left? 
While Steve tries to figure you out. You try to figure out how to handle this situation. 
Should you curse him out and kick him out of your house and show him how hurt you still are? Should you really give him that satisfaction? Or should you pretend to be okay, give him the cold shoulder that you should’ve given him years ago and act like you are fine with this, with working with him? 
You opt for the latter. You don’t want him to see the power he still has over you. You don’t want him to see how much you still want him.  
You can feel his eyes on you, burning into you, it makes your skin crawl. 
You take deep breaths before you look back up at him. 
“Don’t you have better things to do on a Thursday night?” You scoff. You know damn well that he never worked on homeworks or assignments when he was still with you, he had ‘better’ things to do. You were the one that did all these things for him. 
“Can we just work on this?” He sighs.
You roll your eyes and shrug, “yeah.” 
Surprise flashes in his eyes, he didn’t think that it would be that easy to convince you to work with him. For weeks, you wouldn’t even look at him, you wouldn’t even glance into his direction. He figured that it was because of how hurt you were after the breakup but now he begins to doubt that that is why you stopped acknowledging him. 
“Come on then,” you mumble as you make your way out of the kitchen, brushing past him. He nods, looking down at the floor, he turns around and follows you into the hallway, turning the light off on the way out. 
It feels weird to be back in your house, it feels so familiar yet so… strange. There isn’t much in your room that has changed since the last time he had been in here– only the lack of his things is noticeable to him. The bottle of his cologne that used to be on your dresses is gone and so are the collection of polaroids. He frowns, a weird feeling tugs at his heart. You got rid of everything. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. He looks around the room that haunts his dreams– a piece of clothing that neither belongs to you or him is draped over the chair by your desk. It’s a black denim jacket. Clenching his jaw, he wonders if it belongs to Billy. The thought of you wearing his clothes, of you being with him makes him so.. angry. 
“Are you just gonna stand there?” You mumble without looking back at him. You are already back on your bed with your notebook in your lap. He stares at you, the moment feels too familiar. He remembers climbing up to your window one night, he wanted to surprise you with flowers. You were sitting on your bed just like you do now but instead of the notebook you had a magazine on your lap and you were wearing pajamas. You looked so cute. 
“We gotta settle on a topic,” you say and raise your head to look at him. 
Steve’s brows are still furrowed, he still stares at you. He feels confused, irritated and a little hurt. You seem so.. okay. You look at him and talk to him as though nothing ever happened. Are you okay without him? Are you happier without him? 
He blinks, snapping himself out of his thoughts, he walks towards your desk, he pulls out the chair and sits down. 
“Yeah.. what do you wanna write about?” 
You shrug, “I don’t know, we could totally write an essay about snakes, there’s one in my room, right now.” 
His lips part and his face scrunches up in confusion, it takes him a moment to realize what you mean. His shoulders slump and he scoffs, “very funny.”
“I know,” you smirk. 
“We could write about basketball–” 
Your scoff cuts him off, causing him to roll his eyes. 
“Or about cheerleading–”
“Are you crazy?”
“I think you know more about cheerleading than I do, you were the one who convinced me to do it after all,” you say, tilting your head at him, “remember?”
He leans back in the chair, spreading his legs, he nods at your words and clenches his jaw, “yeah..”
There is so much tension in your room, his presence makes you angry. 
After the initial shock subsided and the sadness turned into anger, you began to curse him for what he did, especially when you found out that he had kissed her while he was still with you. That is something you will never forgive him, the lies and the cheating. 
The anger makes you feel stronger, it keeps the sadness away, for the most part, at least. 
“How about we do something more classy– although, you don’t do classy, so…” 
Steve rolls his eyes at your words, “not like you do it either,” he mumbles. 
You snort, not showing him the anger or the annoyance that you are feeling right now. You tilt your head and stare at him in question.
“I mean, given that you fucked Billy Hargrove out of all people,” he says with a looks of distaste on his face. 
What? 
You almost laugh in his face but you hold yourself back. 
He eyes your expression slowly, waiting for a reaction. He expects you to scoff, to look caught, to look embarrassed, to blush or to deny it all– just the way you always denied your attraction to Billy every time he brought it up but he gets nothing from you. Absolutely nothing and it only fuels his anger even more. The burning in his chest and stomach worsens when you look at him with a straight face. 
You look at him for a while, not moving, not saying anything, he can’t even read the look on your face. After a while, you sigh and look down at your notebook, “so how about we write an essay about Romeo and Juliet?” You ask, “you know, since it’s the only book you actually ever touched.” 
His brows knit together, his cheeks grow red, “are you not gonna say anything?” 
His irrational anger amuses you a little but you don’t show it. 
You look at him through hooded eyes, not raising your head, “I just did?” 
He rolls his eyes and stands up, walking towards you, “I mean about Billy.” 
“What about him?”
“Did you sleep with him?” He asks. 
His eyes flash with desperation. He wants to know, he needs to know. 
How ironic it is to see him beg for an answer when he has no right to even get one. He never gave you the truth so why should you? You are not his anymore.
His eyes are pleading. Why does he want to know? Why does he even care? He has the girl he truly loves, why should it matter what you do or who you do it with? 
“So, I’m not sure if you remember the story but in Romeo and Juliet, there’s obviously that tragic ending so–”
“Y/n,” he sighs. 
You close your mouth and glare at him, you used to love hearing him say your name, now you hate it. 
“Would you rather write an essay about Billy Hargrove?” You ask calmly, giving him a fake smile. 
“No,” he rolls his eyes. 
“Good, cause I don’t either.” 
He runs his fingers through his hair and huffs in frustration, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose. 
“We could write about pride and prejudice.”
You lift your chin and look at him in surprise. You used to reread that book all the time, he knows it’s your favorite– he used to steal it out of your hands, reading some of Mr.Darcy’s lines in a mocking way, back then it made you laugh. 
“You didn’t even read it,” you murmur. 
“I can read it now,” he shrugs, “you still have it, right?” 
“We got a week to finish the essay, Steve. It’ll take you days to even finish and understand that book so don’t even bother–”
“No,” he says stubbornly, “I want to.”
You throw your hands up, “why?” 
‘Cause you wanted to choose the book for your next essay, you told him that weeks before.. her. ‘Cause you love it so much– or used to love it. 
He doesn’t look at you, he stares at the ground and shrugs, “just let me do it, please,” he says, “I can get started on the essay while reading it.” 
You try to figure him out. Why is this so important to him? He used to make fun of that book, of you reading so much. He would laugh whenever you offered to read it for him and now he suddenly wants to read it himself? 
Sighing, you get up and walk towards your bookshelf. You bend down and reach for the book before you turn back to face him. 
It feels weird to see him back in your room– a place he spent so many nights in, a place he used to kiss you in, a place he used to touch you in. 
“Here.” 
You hold it out to him, keeping distance between the two of you as though you are scared to come near him. His fingertips brush yours when he takes the book from you, warmth spreads across his skin and he finds himself looking at your face. 
You quickly pull your hand back and cross your arms over your chest, avoiding his eyes, “well, you should probably get started then,” you mumble, nudging your chin into the direction of your door, subtly kicking him out. 
“Yeah,” he breathes and looks back down, eying the cover of your beloved book, “what are you doing tomorrow night?” 
Just leave, please. You think to yourself. 
“Why?”
“Well, we could start working on it tomorrow,” he offers. 
“Yeah sure.” You don’t want to work with him, you don’t want to see him but agreeing to it will get him out of your house sooner, “I’ll call you.” 
“Okay.” 
You can feel his eyes on you, he is staring and it makes you want to both scream and cry. Leave, just leave. 
“I’ll get going.” He steps away, taking one last look at you before he turns around, “good night, y/n.”
You don’t say anything back, you stay silent, refusing to even look at him. You don’t notice the way he halts in his tracks when his eyes fall on the picture on your wall, the only one left of him. Steve knows that you didn’t keep it up because of him but it still makes something inside of him burn. There’s no other reminders of him left, only this one. You could have cut him out but you didn’t, you kept him there. His eyes soften and he glances at you. You are still standing there in the same spot, with your arms crossed and your gaze stuck to the floor. The urge to– no. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to leave. 
Your fingernails dig into your arms, you bite your lip as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. The lump in your throat begins to grow. Why did he show up? You hear him walking down the stairs and it feels like forever until he reaches the door. The sob begins to threaten to escape. 
You slowly make your way towards your bedroom door, shutting it quietly. You press your back against it and look up at the ceiling. Tears roll down your cheeks the minute you let your guard down. 
“I hate you, Steve Harrington.”
-
Cold water dribbles down on him, making goosebumps rise up on his skin, he shivers at the feeling but sighs in content when he feels himself getting more energized again. Basketball practice tired him more than usual but that was probably because he stayed up all night, reading pride and prejudice. To his surprise, he ended up liking it more than he thought. Though he can’t stand Darcy for some reason. 
Another thing that kept him up was you. Your indifference, your lack of emotions, the anger and the sadness he had seen in your eyes the last time you had looked at him was gone. There is nothing in your eyes now, just simply nothing. It shouldn’t bother him, in fact, it should make him feel relieved to know that you are not hurting anymore but somehow it hurts him to know that you just don’t care anymore. 
He didn’t love you but you loved him, at least that’s what he always believed. 
Did you realize that you never loved him either? 
“What’s wrong, Harrington? Did you realize that you’re a shit player?” 
He can’t even help but sigh in annoyance. His jaw clenches and so do his fists. He waited until everyone was done showering, not feeling like interacting with anyone, he didn’t know that Billy was still around, if he knew, he would’ve been the first in the shower. 
He opens his eyes and glares at him. 
Billy looks at him with a smirk on his face, he turns the water on and closes his eyes as he steps under the stream. 
Steve decides to ignore him, turning his head away from him, he reaches for his shampoo with shaky hands. Just the presence of Billy is enough for him to shake out of anger. He hates him so much. 
“Heard you were at y/n’s house last night.” 
At that, Steve tenses up. How and why does he know? He keeps his eyes down as he begins to wash his hair. 
“Yeah, so?”
Billy chuckles, taking a moment to reply. 
“What were you doing there?” 
“How’s that any of your business?” Steve mumbles in annoyance. 
Billy shrugs, narrowing his eyes at him, “when assholes like you go to their ex-girlfriends house it’s usually to fuck,” he says, smirking. 
Steve shakes his head, “we’re working on an essay together.” 
“Mhm.” 
To his surprise, Billy keeps quiet for the remaining time. Steve quickly finishes up and leaves the shower after wrapping a towel around his waist, wanting to escape him as quickly as he can. 
Steve can’t stand to be in the same room as him for longer than a minute, he always felt that way about him but especially after hearing those rumors about you and Billy from Tommy and Carol. It still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. 
Back in the locker room, he scrunches his face up in disgust, it smells like sweat, too much deodorant and cologne in here. No one is around anymore, everyone has already left. 
Steve reaches for his dirty clothes and stuffs them into his duffle bag before he starts getting dressed. He puts on a pair of boxers and his jeans and reaches for his belt when Billy walks back in. 
Steve’s jaw feels tense from all the clenching but he can’t stop it. Every time he sees him, he thinks of you and him together. He thinks of you being touched by him, of you being kissed by him, of you being– god, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand the thought of you being touched by Billy Hargrove or any other man for that matter.
He knows that there is a huge chance that you aren’t with him or with anyone else but he can’t be too sure. 
“Did you fuck her?” 
Billy smirks when the question finally tumbles out of Steve’s mouth, he knows that he has been dying to ask. He stays silent and puts his clothes on instead, taking his time with it. 
Steve puts his sweater over his head and turns around to face Billy, who is already staring at him smugly as he dries his hair with the white towel. 
Steve’s nostrils flare and he feels like throwing a punch at him already, he clenches his fists, fingernails digging into his palms. 
“Why are you asking a question that you already know the answer to?” Billy smirks. 
He stiffens a little, gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to do what he so badly wants to do. 
“I don’t know the answer, that’s why I’m asking.” 
“Why do you want to know?” Billy chuckles as he tilts his head to the side, he throws the towel back on the bench and puts his white tank top on, “you dumped her.” 
Billy walks towards him slowly, he looks confident, he always does. He looks directly into his eyes, the smugness remaining on his face. 
“Let me tell you something.” 
Steve drops his arms to his sides and puffs out his chest, raising his chin slightly. His heartbeat quickens, not out of fear but out of anticipation. 
“When you came to school with your new little plaything, she left. I found her behind the school, she was crying.” 
Nothing good will come out of his mouth next, Steve already knows it. The thought of you crying over him does little to mend the anger in his chest. 
“Wanna know what I did?” Billy asks, raising his brows. He licks his lips and grins a little as he steps closer. 
Steve nudges his chin up. 
“I took her home and I fucked her so hard that she forgot that you ever existed. In fact, I think a good fuck was all it needed,” Billy chuckles darkly as he looks him up and down, “‘cause you clearly never fucked her good enough.” 
Steve is seething, burning and trembling with anger. The smirk on the blond’s face is only fueling his anger. 
“Now I’m not the only one,” Billy smirks at the angry look on Steve’s face. His cheeks are red, the brown in his eyes vanished completely, all there is now is blackness. He is not just angry, he is in rage and Billy is loving it. “A little birdie told me that she’s been sneaking around with one of the stoners, so..” Billy laughs, turning around with satisfaction in his eyes.
Steve doesn’t know whether to throw a punch, to scream at him or at himself for feeling this way. He wants to throw up at the thought of you fucking Billy, of you sneaking around with some loser. 
Billy grabs his stuff, he puts on his brown leather jacket. He can sense Steve’s anger and it makes him feel more satisfied than ever. 
“Let me tell you a little secret, Steve. Girls like her, the ones who get left behind by their daddies, they’re a little damaged but they keep going. They still got a little hope left, but the moment they get their heart broken by some asshole they fall in love with, they’re damaged beyond repair. Even if you come crawling back to her and she ends up being stupid enough to take your sorry ass back, she will never be the same again. You crushed her poor little heart.”
Steve is breathing heavily, his knuckles are white from how hard he is clenching his fist. He would love nothing more than to finally throw that punch but he holds himself back, knowing that it will only make things even worse. 
Billy slaps his hand on Steve’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes, he chuckles, “loosen up, King Steve, go and get your little geek. I’ll take care of y/n, I think she’s better off with me anyways. At least she feels something when I fuck her.” 
And with that, Billy leaves him standing, knowing the damage he caused, it leaves him more satisfied than ever, to know that he messed with him— to know what it takes to mess with him.
next part
-
only tagging friends!
@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628
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acourtofwhatthefuck · 6 months
Text
Practice On Me — Part Nine — Azriel x Reader
Summary: Roza’s arrival in Windhaven brings some home truths crashing down on Reader. She just needs a hug, someone to talk to, but it all goes very, very wrong…
Word Count: 3k.
Warnings: None.
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Chaos evades logic.
There is no rationality to be found here. No sense to be made of the ample feelings that begin to chew you up and spit you out.
All you know, as you lace your breeches up and correct yourself, is that you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut.
“Are you decent?” Roza calls, her back still to you.
You tie the last lace. Clear your throat. “All good.”
The closest person you’ve ever had to a mother figure turns on the spot. She’s absolutely beautiful — fucking glowing — her swollen belly visible through her thick coat, and her eyes alight with a quality you’ve never seen before.
Rhysand really is the mirror image of her.
“I actually cannot believe I just witnessed that.” She grouses. “And just when I thought the morning sickness had finally come to an end, too. My poor, poor eyes.”
Cassian makes a noise. “Roz, that’s a bit dramatic—”
“You be quiet.” She points a finger at him. “Your mouth has done quite enough tonight, thank you very much.”
The two of them stare at each other — Cassian wanting to be a little shit and push his luck, and Roza wanting to…
Well, to gouge her eyes out with a rusty spoon, probably.
But then Cassian cracks a grin, and he’s bounding over to the female like an excitable pup. “Fuck, I’ve missed you.”
“Watch your language.” Roza scorns, but she happily accepts the hug that Cass yanks her into. “Gods, you’ve grown even more.”
You…you are rooted to the spot. Unable to move.
You want to go over there, too. To embrace her. But…but just seeing Roza makes the previous couple of months come hammering down on you in an unwelcome downpour of unwanted realisations.
You think: Roza caught me fooling around with Cassian.
And then you think: Fucking hell, I fooled around with Cassian again.
And then you’re wondering how — how you’ve let the recent events of your life veer down such a beaten, broken path.
It’s like Roza’s appearance brings a clarity that has been very much absent as of late. She’s always been a figure of reason and wisdom, always stopped you from spiralling.
And now she’s here, you’re looking at Cassian — your damn friend — and wondering just how much damage you might have caused.
He’s mid-conversation with Roza when he seems to notice you staring at him. Roza notices, too.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She says.
You open your mouth, unsure how you intend to respond. All that slips out is a rasped, “I’m just…so glad you’re here.”
Cassian snorts. “Tell that to your face.”
You can’t bring yourself to laugh at the jibe. And it would seem that Roza can’t, either. She’s studying you in that assessing way you’ve seen her wear a thousand times before — the one where the motherly instinct kicks in, and she’s sensing something is wrong. It seems to be a subconscious act, the way she slides her hand over her bump.
“So what are you doing back here, anyway?” Cassian asks her, slinging an arm round her shoulders. “I thought the High Lord wanted you to stay in Velaris for the pregnancy.”
“He does.” Roza says. “But then I found out Y/N had somehow ended up homeless and that he hadn’t bothered to help, so he and I aren’t on the best of terms right now.” She eyes you again. “I’ve come to move you properly into the cottage — including retrieving your belongings from your father’s house. I will not have you freezing your ass off in this dump.”
Gods, you love her.
She’s so fierce, so passionate. This is a female who housed three lost, rowdy children under her roof and offered them the same amount of love as she felt for her biological son. This is a female who does what she believes is right and damns the consequences. This is a female who doesn’t hesitate — not for one second — to help somebody in need.
She’s the exact kind of female you want yourself to be. And she’s the only person you wish to see in that moment.
“Perfect.” Cassian chirps brightly. “I’ll help. Let’s go fetch Y/N’s stuff from the bastard’s house right now.”
He takes a step towards the door, but Roza is laying a hand on his arm. She doesn’t look away from you once. “Cassian, my darling, I love you endlessly. And so, I say this with the greatest of adoration — fuck off to the mead hall, or something, and leave Y/N and I to have some girl time alone.”
“What?” He squawks in outrage. “But you just got here.”
“And I promise you we’ll catch up properly later. But right now, Y/N and I need some time alone.”
“But—”
“Do you want to stay and discuss the ins and outs of childbirth?”
Instantly, he falters. The change of tune would be comical if you were actually capable of feeling anything but despair in that moment.
“You know what?” He cracks a grin. “The mead hall sounds great right about now.”
Roza chuckles. “I thought it might. I’m taking Y/N back to the cottage. I’ll come and fetch you when we’re done. And if you see Az or Rhys, be sure to tell them to stay away, too.”
Oh.
This is going to be a serious talk.
You can’t remember the last time Roza was so insistent about it just being the two of you.
Probably when you got your first ever cycle, and she held and soothed and bathed you through it.
Will she still be so tender when she hears of the full scope of the mess you’ve created for yourself? You’re not sure you’d deserve it.
“Go easy, Cass.” Roza warns. “Don’t get into any fights.”
“Pff. As if I would.” Your friend lands a kiss on her cheek. “You look beautiful, Roz.” He says, and then he’s bustling out of the door without a care in the world.
You stare after him. Wish you could be that carefree. It feels…it feels impossible.
Gods, you just want to fucking cry.
Roza can see that. She holds a hand out.
“Come, my little dove.” She says. “Let’s get you home.”
✧: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚✧・゚: *✧・゚
It kind of feels like walking into the cottage for the very first time, all over again.
You remember that night like it happened only yesterday. Remember how the cold had felt as you’d followed Azriel through the snow. The noises of bickering coming  from behind the door.
Even at eleven, Az had always seemed so much taller than you. You’d noticed that as he’d strode ahead and led you inside.
Roza had been standing in the kitchen, and she’d turned to you with a curious expression. “Oh.” She’d chirped, with more warmth than you’d ever heard from your own kin. “What have we here, then?”
You, Azriel had explained to her, had been set upon by a group of males far older than you. Az had defended you, and then he’d invited you to share his dinner.
Roza had taken one look at the dirt packed beneath your fingernails and told you to thoroughly wash your hands before taking a seat. You’d done just that.
And it was at that very table that Rhysand had introduced himself.
“I’m Rhysand. My father is the High Lord.”
Roza had scolded him for showing off.
And it was after that that Cassian had eyed you with a wild, feral look and simply said, “I bet I could beat you in an arm wrestle. I beat everyone.”
“Not at my dinner table, you don’t.” Roza had put a stop to that immediately. And then she’d placed a steaming pie in the centre of the table, and High Lords and arm wrestles were all but forgotten, and Azriel had been quiet and shy at your side, but dutifully offering you different foods before he took any for himself—
Standing at the threshold of the cottage, now…it’s like watching that entire scene play out before you. The ghosts of your younger, wayward selves feast greedily on a wholesome meal that lets you forget your harrowing experiences for a little while.
How things have changed.
You finally step in. Kick the door shut behind you. The smells and warmth of your sanctuary envelop you, and you know — you fucking know that you won’t be able to keep a lid on your tears for long.
“Don’t know how many times I’ve told those idiots to put the fire out before they leave the house.” Roza mutters, but she goes striding straight towards that burning fire and welcomes its warmth. “Although, I must admit, I’m a little impressed. I expected this place to be far messier in my absence than it is. Don’t tell me they’ve actually been cleaning—”
“Roza.” You cut in, your voice shaky, desperate. “About what you saw—”
She turns back to you. Says nothing as concerned, violet eyes sweep the length of your body. She’s letting you speak, but you don’t know what the fuck to say.
You open and close your mouth as though the act will make some sense of…any of this.
It doesn’t.
“I didn’t realise you and Cassian were…” Roza clears her throat. Pauses. “I just…what of Azriel, Y/N?”
You blink at her.
Roza’s very good at knowing things she hasn’t been told, but for her to know about you and Az when she’s been in Velaris this whole time, and when, as far as you’re aware, these things have been strictly kept between you and Azriel only—
“What?” You breathe.
“Perhaps I’m wrong, I don’t know.” She frowns. “But I always suspected that you and Az would be…something more. Your connection with him has always run a little deeper than with anyone else. That’s why I was so shocked when I found you…and Cass…”
Is she wrong?
No.
And fucking damn you for taking all these years to see it. Fucking damn you for only realising you wanted Azriel as more than just your friend when somebody else began to recognise his brilliance.
Fucking damn you for all of this, and damn Azriel, too, and damn everyone.
It all comes showering down on you in an instant, harsh and unwelcome.
You love Azriel. Not just in the way you love Rhysand and Cassian. You’re in love with his soul, his spirit. Who he is will always be tethered to who you are, even though he isn’t yours to cling onto. It’s been that way since you were old enough to harbour such feelings, and you’ve been burying it all these years, burying it under bad choices and regrettable actions, because all of that seemed easier to face, than…this. The fact that you were never able to control your heart, stop it from feeling such things, and now you feel them so intensely that it hurts.
Had your deal with Az ever really been about helping him, or had it been a selfish ruse under which you could have some small experience to remember him by when he inevitably gave his heart to somebody else?
Because you are just Y/N. You’ve always just been Y/N.
You are not Kaeda — Kaeda with the wings, and the strength, and the excellence.
Just Y/N. Just Y/N—
“Speak to me, my love.” Roza steps closer. “I’m worried about you.”
Your eyes blur with tears. Your legs buckle, and you’re bracing one hand on the back of the couch while the other flies up to cup over your mouth.
“Oh, gods, what have I done?” Your voice breaks.
“Speak to me.” Roza says again.
“This is all such a mess.”
“What is, Y/N?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t know what—what to do!”
“You need to breathe.” She responds firmly. “Deep breaths. Now.”
You try. Gods, you try. But your chest is constricting, and the air won’t reach your lungs, and all you can hear on a constant loop inside your head is one, bellowing sentence.
Everything is irreversibly changed.
Roza closes the gap between you and cups your face. The touch is soft, but firm. She forces you to look at her, and her face is blurred by your tears, but you know she’s looking at you how she’s always looked at you — with love.
“Tell me what’s going on, and I can help you through it.” She pleads.
“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” You sob back.
She yanks you close, arms wrapping around you. She’s held you like this through so, so much. This is no different.
But it feels different, in that it feels worse. Not only is it possible that your actions could change your relationships with both Cassian and Azriel, but also that they could change their relationship with each other, too — change the strong, steadfast dynamic between your three closest friends.
You tremble, clinging to Roza like you may just collapse. Your heartbeat gallops in your ears like rhythmic footfalls.
“Y/N—”
“It all turned into a total mess.” You choke out. “I was feeling things — I am feeling things — and then Azriel had Kaeda and I was jealous and stupid and I — I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have slept with Cassian.”
“You did what?”
Those three, outraged words are not spoken in Roza’s voice. The sudden interjection of Azriel’s is enough for your sobs to catch in your throat.
Every single inch of your body goes cold as you step back to look at him. Blink at him. Roza fights to keep hold of you.
Normally, he would have hurried over to embrace her. But he stays rooted to the last step of the staircase. He’s staring at you. Only you.
You’ve never seen him look so pale.
“Az.” Roza sighs softly. “We didn’t realise you were home.”
He doesn’t look away from you — not once — as he asks, “What did you just say?”
Roza inches towards him. “I think we all need to sit down and talk about this—”
“You fucked Cassian?”
Tears spill over, roll down your cheeks. Your voice doesn’t want to show itself as you croak out, “Az, I can explain.”
“You fucked Cassian?” He’s repeating it like…like he needs to. Like it won’t get into his head any other way. “You had sex with him?”
“Yes, but—”
“Around the time you and I were doing similar things?”
Roza’s head whips round to you in surprise. You’d failed to mention that bit. After a moment, she rights herself once more. “Azriel, you should let her speak.”
“I can’t fucking believe you.” Letting you speak is the last thing on his mind as he steps down, storming past the two of you. You reach out for him, but he’s jerking away, heading for the door.
“Azriel, please.” Your voice cracks. “Let me explain.”
“Explain that you fucked Cass? At the same time that I was sharing such…such huge things with you—”
“At the same time you were sharing them with Kaeda!”
He falls still, hand faltering on the doorknob, shoulders hunched.
And then he glances over his shoulder at you with an expression so bleak, you’d do anything, make a bargain with anyone, to wipe it from his face.
“Except that I’ve never touched Kaeda like that.” He says. “Not once. I couldn’t.”
Before you’re capable of summoning an answer, he’s yanking the door open and thundering out into the snow.
Shock pulses through you, ice-cold and harrowing. You blink, and blink and blink and blink, and you think Roza might be saying your name, but you can only choke out another sob that grates against your throat, and then your legs are moving forward, stumbling out of the door.
“Az, wait!” You cry, but he’s already striding far into the distance. “Please!”
You try to move, but it’s like the snow is binding your ankles, grounding you firmly to the spot. You sob. Try to move. Fall. Get up. It’s cold and wet. You’re hurting. Everything’s hurting.
And somebody’s yelling — yelling at you.
“Hey!” You know the voice. It’s a voice you don’t like. But you can’t put a face to it until its owner is stopping in front of you, sneering at you. Lord Devlon. “What did I tell you about staying away from these parts, girl?”
You’re incapable of answering him. You’re not even looking at him. You just stare and stare in the direction that Az disappeared in, fat, hot tears rolling down your cheeks.
“I’m talking to you.” Devlon grabs your chin between his fingers, hard. “Insolent female—”
“Remove your hand from her face at once.”
He blinks at the sight of Roza stepping out of the cottage. Clearly, he had no clue she’d returned. And even he won’t speak out against the High Lord’s pregnant mate.
He drops his hand immediately.
Roza steps up to your side and narrows her gorgeous eyes at him. Her hand sits on her swollen belly. “Look at you, Lord Devlon — following orders like a good dog. Now, go on. Fuck off.”
There’s a slight twitch of a muscle as he clenches his jaw. He hates every second of it, but he obediently turns away from you.
“Oh — Lord Devlon?” Roza calls after him.
He stops. Turns. “Yes, lady?”
“I decide who can and cannot live in my house.” She stares him down. “That call is mine and mine alone. And if I hear of you giving Y/N any more trouble? I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”
She turns her back to him with utter dismissal. If you weren’t so devastated, you might laugh at his stunned expression.
But Roza sees the pain in your eyes, and she pulls you into her arms.
“Come, my love.” She murmurs  softly. “Let’s get you inside.”
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az tags: @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @sirenpearldust @queercodedcharacter @azriels-shadowsinger @ruler-of-hades @demi03 @magicaldragonlady @abrielletargaryen @ralsieq @v3lv3tf0x @achase2002 @feyretopia @hayrunnwr @don’t-feed-the-hipsters @brekkershadowsinger @piceous21 @bloodicka @acourtofinkandpapyrus @riri-is-agirlie @siriusement @4valyries @socmono @azriels-mate123 @acourtofbatboydreams @katherinearcheron @nesemi @lupinswolfsbanes @dreaming-unafraid @dxnniiix @cyrygher @liddyr03 @lmllsl @nightless @teenageeggscissorslawyer @brighterthanlonelythoughts @blitz-fall @maybefoxysouls @mschanand1erbong @juiceboxreads @bangtanbecks @florencemtrash @hyemishii @obixix @thenovarose @meshellexplosionmurder @angzlxna @lissy31xoxo-blog @supernatural99 @positivewitch @art3-m1ss @milfhunter-pdx @bbuckysbeardd @coralseacourt @towhateverend87 @sspookz @bird-on-the-wire33 @morrie-rose @megwan @catscanteleport @sevikas-whore @thickthighs-sadeyes
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Pillow Talk
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Astarion x F! Tav
18+ complicated/developing feelings, intimacy, heavy petting, urgent sex, dry humping, public sex (kinda), dirty talk, coming in pants (m!), implied trauma, miscommunication, tenderness, porn w/o plot
Tav innocently offered to help Astarion with his morning routine. But things get very close, and Astarion is shocked how her sweet face belies the sinful mouth she has...
-
"So you fill in your eyeline, right?"
He looked up from his book.
"Pardon?"
She was wiping the stray blood off of her neck with her fingers. Startling him when they slid into her mouth.
They had struck up a routine, he drank and she stayed to chat or just lay in quiet in his tent for a while.
This platonic exchange was new to him, but he found it surprisingly comfortable. Even looking forward to seeing her. Big doe eyes peeking under the flap of his tent, asking for entry.
She pointed good naturedly at him, licking her fingers clean. His eyes locked on her mouth.
"Your eyes. Your lashes are naturally white, yeah?"
They were, but he was a mite distracted.
Tav was... deceptive in nature. All eyes and lips. Her voice a bright chirp. Freckles and dimples. A beauty that was fit to the innocence of summer.
But as he got to know her found that she was more debauched. Always willing to cause chaos, down for anything.
Even shocking him sometimes with the things that would come out of her pouty flushed lips.
The contrast was... interesting.
"Why do you ask?" He intoned, looking back to his book in feigned disinterest.
"Well, I could help. It must be hard without a mirror."
"Interesting. And what would you gain from this exchange?"
She rolled her eyes. "I'm not trying to fuck you Astarion."
He blinked.
She had brushed off his advances by turning the tables before. He came at her with honeyed words and she called his bluff, upping the ante with crude huffed words in his ear until he walked away flustered.
It vexed him to no end. To not only be bested but also how her words shot straight to his groin.
"You sure about that?" He smirked, unable to help himself.
She smiled Cheshire at him. Started pulling her shirt open. "You want me to make you scream, Astarion?" The last of her words coming out a loud moan. A dare.
"Would you pipe down?" He admonished, voice coming out a harsh whisper.
She giggled, closing her shirt again. The sliver of the curve of her breast hidden again.
His ears were flushed, closing his book.
She sat back, legs tucked under her. All innocent again.
"So...?" She sing-songed.
"Okay, fine." He huffed, acting terribly put upon.
"Yay!" She chirped.
He bit back the smile forming on his lips.
"If you so insist, you can assist me in the morning. Now begone from me, demon."
She giggled again, high rising bells. Waving her fingers at him as she retreated from his tent.
Gods, what a nuisance.
Completely ignoring the tightness in his leathers he blew out the candle.
The sounds of morning accosted him, groaning in his tent.
He lifted the flap to get some air but laid back down with a dramatic flop.
From the window of his tent, he watched his campmates mill around.
Only Karlach excitedly preparing for her day, greeting with big smiles and hands clasped on shoulders. Everyone else a smeared facsimile of alertness.
Tav was still in her long sleep shirt, but mostly put together. Hair in a long plait down her back, face washed. Talking to Halsin, though he couldn't hear their conversation. Halsin's eyes gazing down at her in clear desire.
She had to crane her neck to look up at him, basically standing on tiptoes.
At one point, she lifted her arms to stretch above her head.
He saw the druids eyes dip to her arched chest hungrily then back up to her eyes, carrying on the conversation.
Astarion felt a heat in his chest. Then shook his head.
This was none of his concern. She was beautiful, of course their campmates wanted her.
She looked over, seeing his tent open. Her eyes brightening. Opening her mouth to say something to Halsin then bouncing away towards him.
He saw how the druids face slightly fell and felt a petty thrill in his chest.
"Good morning~" She sung. "May I come in?"
It felt good, if not foreign, to be asked permission.
"Of course, darling."
She climbed inside with a little wiggle.
He turned to his chest, pulling the small washbasin out.
As he began his morning routine, she laid on the floor of his tent, snuggling down into his newly freed blankets with a happy sigh.
She had to know how adorable she was.
He reveled these moments, where it was just them in a comfortable silence. It was intimate, but in a way that didn't make him feel like he was drowning.
He rubbed his face clear, his unmade hair falling down into his forehead. Sighing.
"What I wouldn't give for a working mirror." He grumbled.
"Well, let me see. I'll paint you a picture." She smiled, looking up at him from his bedroll.
Though he couldn't see himself, he suddenly felt exposed. Knowing his face was bare, his curly hair free of pomade and unruly from sleep.
He turned and looked down at her with a slight frown.
She sat up and took him in.
Of course she looked radiant. Her bare face giving her an even more entrancing layer of beauty.
He tried to not squirm under her gaze.
"Well, your eyes are very beautiful like this, the contrast of red and white suits you. Your lips are full and arched. Jaw sharp."
Her eyes drifting up to his hair. Tilting her head and smiling wide, her dimples on display.
"And your hair is so cute like this. Like a big sheep." She giggled.
"I am not a big sheep." He huffed. "How dare you."
She bit her lip, still smiling at him. "Altogether very handsome. It's a good look on you."
He suddenly wanted to kiss her and blinked away the thought in shock.
"So are you going to let me do your eyeliner now?" She asked, clearly excited.
"You know what you're doing?" He asked, handing her the smudging pencil.
"Just because I don't usually wear makeup while trudging through the woods doesn't mean I don't know how to use it." She teased.
"Well some of us can afford to take less effort it seems."
"Careful, that was dangerously close to a compliment." She laughed. "Here, lay back."
He laid against some propped pillows and she straddled over him.
Her face coming over his, gently holding his head still.
He knew she meant nothing by the position or the closeness. But his heart still phantom pounded.
"Look up." She hushed, lining the bottom of his eye with sure hands.
"You know, I get why you feel strange about your appearance." She spoke softly, face stern in concentration.
"People are weird about me too. Most people only give me the time of the day if they want to fuck me."
His eyes had drifted up to the roof of his tent but came back to hers at that.
"Fuck me then forget me. Thought that was how things were going to be for me for a long time."
She sighed. "Maybe it still is. If we didn't have tadpoles to keep us together I think half the camp would be culpable."
She had taken the air out of his lungs. Unknowingly mirroring his own thoughts to him.
"Sorry, that's not your problem." She murmured, switching to his other eye. Her tongue sticking slighty out of her mouth in concentration.
It wasn't, and yet he felt guilty. After all, he still was planning to seduce her. It hadn't been working, but still.
"And what if someone wanted to be with you and stick around?" He hushed.
She looked at him, pausing. Then smiling sadly.
"I don't know. I've never gotten that far." She shrugged. "Could be nice. Or a nuisance, depending on the person."
He laughed low in his throat.
"Okay, done." She leaned back, admiring her work.
"Oh, wait." She hushed, leaning forward again, lips so close to his he could feel their heat. Fingers smudging gently along the outer corner of his eye.
He leaned up thoughtlessly and slid his lips against hers.
She froze in shock, then slowly leaned into him. Moaning softly.
He cupped the nape of her neck, pulling her into him. Suddenly hungry and needful.
Aware of the tent flap still open, he turned his body over hers, shielding her from view.
Didn't need all of their companions spying on them, did they?
They pulsed into each other, all heat and slick. Tongues twisting, desperate pulls of hands. Panting.
His mind was full of nothing but spinning desire. A heady miasma of need.
He couldn't maintain decorum anymore.
With an impatient huff he kicked the tent wall, the flap falling closed.
Pulling his shirt off of his head he dove back into her. Lost in her velvet mouth, the lamb's ear skin of her thighs. All the soft little sounds she was making, sweet bird cries.
His hands pushed under her sleep shirt, gripping onto her plush hips. Pulling her into him with a low moan. Grinding his hard length into her soaked underclothes.
Her head fell back, gasping out choppy breaths.
He could tell she was trying to be quiet and it ignited more flames in his pelvis.
"Do keep your voice down, darling." He teased in her ear. Pushing her sleep shirt up more, cupping her breast.
She leaned forward and ran her tongue up the point of his ear, panting hot.
His eyes hitched back, groaning.
"I thought we were being quiet." She teased.
Evil. Evil woman.
"Oh, you're being nasty again?" He chided, hips rolling of their own accord now.
He was trying to maintain the upper hand here but he was flushed and panting. His purpose narrowed down to getting more, more, more.
"Oh you want nasty?" She purred.
She pulled on the waistband of his leathers, pulling him into her harder. Hips meeting his in time.
"How would you want me if we fucked? Hmm maybe you would bury your cock in my throat and let my sweet tongue lap at your underside till I was gasping."
Oh Gods.
His eyes squeezed shut, hips pistoning into her.
"Mmm, or maybe you'd want me on all fours, my slick greedy cunt taking your cock. Slamming your hips into my ass, seeing it jiggle with your thrusts."
She pulled his hand to her ass to make her point, suckling down on his ear.
He bit back a moan, hand gripping into the round plush flesh of her ass. Panting into her neck, bending her leg out with his. Pulling her open for him.
"Hmm, maybe not those." She hushed into the shell of his ear. "Maybe you want me to lick your nipple, suckling it in my hot tongue. Lave my tongue over your chest until your arching your back so pretty for me."
His breath caught in his throat, cock unbearably hard. Hips stuttering into her.
"Ohh," She smiled, looping a leg around his hip. "That's it."
She pulled down with her leg, his hips melded with hers now.
Grabbing a fistful of his hair she pulled taut, bending his neck open.
He was dangerously close, the hair pull nearly sending him over. Stifling the moan caught in the back of his throat.
"How hard would you shake for me when I fucked my fingers into you? Milking the agonizing pleasure from you. Spilling your spend in gushes on my bouncing tits."
He whimpered, gripping down into her hips and began spilling in thick ropes. Biting down into her shoulder to not cry out. Hard pulsing strikes of near tortuous pleasure. Ripping up through his body with merciless talons.
She held him steady as he shattered over her. Hushing encouragement into his ear.
His eyes had started to water, a lump suddenly in his throat. Startling himself.
He allowed himself one more moment of her warmth before pulling away. Sitting up and facing away from her. Forcing his breath slow and even.
"Hey," Her voice soft, pulling close to him but not touching. "Was that too much? I'm sorry."
"No, you were devine darling. Just needed to catch my breath. You wore me out, you wicked thing."
He held his hand hard to his chest, steadying himself. You're safe. You're here. You're safe.
She was quiet behind him, then planted a soft kiss on the curve of his shoulder, rising up.
"I've overstayed my welcome." She said knowingly. "Sorry. I'll be out of your hair in a second."
He wanted to tell her that wasn't it. That wasn't it at all. He actually wanted her to stay, lay in that quiet again. But his body was all sharp edges, bristling.
She slid his shirt back to him and left his tent. "I'll keep my distance from now on, don't worry."
The way she said it, with a certainty of wrongdoing, like accepting a punishment. His heart ached for a moment.
Like she had wronged him.
The sweet thing.
No. No, he would find a way to fix this.
~
Part 2
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daycourtofficial · 2 months
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Freaky Friday
Summary: based on this request - you and Azriel swap bodies, chaos ensues.
Warnings: allusions to sex.
Author’s note: this is just a silly goofy time for my silly goofy geese. Is this my best work? No. But it’s fun and goofy and who cares
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You wake with a groan, your muscles feeling incredibly stiff and heavy. You drag yourself to the bathroom, eyes half closed with sleep.
Everything feels wrong. Your body feels so, so heavy as you open the door to the bathroom. You run some water, splashing it on your face as some fae lights come on.
You sigh, the water making you feel a little more alert. You shut the water off, bracing your hands on the sink, thinking about the mission from yesterday.
It wasn’t this bad - you really didn’t have to do all that much. You and Azriel spoke to a witch for cauldron’s sake - it was more of a test of your mental sparring than anything.
You brace yourself against the sink, remembering the nasty cut on your face. Right now you can’t even feel it, but you should still check on it, make sure it’s healing properly.
You look into the mirror, prepared to see a nasty gash across your face.
Instead you’re met with hazel eyes, tan skin, and onyx hair that are not your own.
And you scream. A deep, bellowing scream.
A moment later the door is shoved open, someone’s body making direct contact with it.
Rhys comes running in, having grabbed a knife on his way in, prepared for any threat that lingers. His violet eyes scan the room, searching for anything that can make his brother scream like that.
You turn to face Rhys, the weight of Azriel’s wings bringing you down. You’re able to look him eye to eye, the height of difference between you and Azriel making Rhys seem much smaller than he used to.
“Az?” Rhys ask, “what’s wrong?”
“I’m not Azriel.”
Moments later you find yourself in Rhysand’s office, not sure what to do with yourself as you try to sit on the couch, the large wings behind you making it hard to sit comfortably.
You accidentally sit on the end of a wing, yelping at the sensation and get up, delicately holding the wing so you can sit.
“Tell me everything that happened on your mission,” Rhys said, and you did. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary and everything went fine.
The two of you looked at each other, and Rhys decides to call Azriel and Cassian into his office to see if he can figure out what happened.
-
Cassian pats you on the head as he walks past you, much like he always does. You were much shorter than everyone else, not as short as Amren, but still quite small comparatively.
Then again, Cassian hardly ever met anyone he could look in the eye and not have to crane his neck to make eye contact.
It was your thing - he patted your head, you swatted his hand away, but that was it.
Until this morning, when you whirled around and landed a punch right on his jaw, taking the moment of deflection to grab his arm and flip him onto the ground.
He held his jaw in his hand, your name on his tongue. “What the hell was that for?”
You looked down at him, but Rhys’s voice breaks through both of your minds.
Come to my office please.
-
Cassian laughed. And laughed. And laughed.
Then he looked at the two of you, and laughed some more. You two sat next to each other on the couch in Rhys’s office, but so unsure of how to hold yourselves. His brother looked unable to hold up his own wings, and you looked so lost and alone, likely due to the loss of the shadows.
Feyre had joined the impromptu meeting in Rhys’s office, where no one could figure out why this had happened. And Cassian was certainly not helping things.
“Look I’m just saying if I swapped bodies with someone I’d fuck myself.”
“Cassian,” Feyre hissed, nodding her head to the door.
“Okay, okay,” he says, walking towards it. “I’ll go.”
Cassian leaves the room, but his laugh can still be heard down the hallway.
“Are the two of you going to be okay?” Rhys asks, looking over the both of you. You shrug, knowing there’s not really anything else you can do, meanwhile Azriel nods.
The two of you were taken away from your duties for the time being, which was probably for the best seeing as how you have no idea how anyone manages to hold their wings off of the ground and walk at the same time.
You were going bonkers in Azriel’s body.The shadows had no idea you weren’t their master, so they kept telling you everything. You had no control over them, so a good portion of them kept wandering over to Azriel stuck in your body. Their presence seemed to soothe him, and you wonder just how alone he feels without them.
You could hardly walk without dropping the massive wings behind you on the floor, so you mostly opted to stayed seated or lying down for the rest of the afternoon, staying in the library trying to figure out how you woke up in Azriel’s body.
You walk past Nesta on your way to dinner, the hulking mass you’re carrying around needing much more food than you were used to. You had the house give you an ungodsly amount of food during the afternoon, from snacks to fruits to nuts. You go to walk by, unaccustomed to the new body and slam into her, apologizing profusely.
She looks you up and down smirking, and you realize that everyone likely found this situation much funnier than you did.
Azriel came up to dinner not long after you did, and Cassian began making fun of you two again. Nyx turned to his mom, clearly confused about his Uncle Cassian’s jokes, when she explains to Nyx that the two of you had swapped bodies.
Nyx clapped his hands, the little princeling quite pleased with this turn of events.
“My wish came true!”
Everyone stops what they’re doing, utensils clattering on plates.
“Er what wish, sweetheart?” Feyre asks, her full attention on her son.
“I wanted them to switch bodies!”
Cassian bursts out laughing, throwing his head back as Nesta swats him on the chest.
Rhys is trying not to laugh at the predicament his son has created as he asks, “and why is that, Nyx?”
Nyx looks at you as Azriel and says, “she told me she wanted wings like Uncle Az’s so when we went to the fountain I wished she could do it!”
Cassian looks at Mor, asking, “so wishes actually come true from that fountain?”
After dinner you find yourself standing next to Cassian, looking him in the eye. You never realized that Azriel was a few inches shorter than Cassian. Cassian looked at you, watching as you move around, unable to stand still and he knows it’s you and not his brother.
“What are you doing, sweetheart?”
Nothing brought Cassian more joy than calling the shadowsinger ‘sweetheart’.
“It’s odd being this tall. I can look you in the eye just standing straight.”
The shadows dart around you two, constantly whispering to you. You would be able to understand them if it weren’t for just how many of them were trying to talk to you.
You swat at them, but even more come back to you, some hitting you in the face.
Cassian laughs, clearly amused at this entire situation. Feyre had taken Nyx back to the fountain to make another wish right after dinner, a wish that everyone go back to their original bodies, but the rest of you were left to wait.
You head into Azriel’s room, leaving Cassian and his teasing remarks behind. You leave Azriel’s bedroom door open just a crack so he can slip in moments later, still in your body.
You run your hands through your hair - his hair, the length reminds you. You look at yourself, not used to this arrangement.
“So uh, this should wear off at some point, right?”
“Right.”
“This is erm weird.”
“Yes, yes it is.” Azriel says, leaning back on his bed. The air in the room shifts, and a sickly sweet smell overtakes the room.
You gasp, hitting Azriel’s - your - leg, “Az, we are stuck in each other’s bodies and you’re getting horny.”
He moves up to you, sitting in your lap. “I can’t help it - it’s your body. You’re so needy.”
His legs straddle your lap, and as he sits down he lets out a quiet moan. You lean closer to him, smelling him, “oh gods, you reek of sex!”
A light blush coats his - your - cheeks, and he responds, “well if I’m stuck in your body, might as well enjoy the company.”
You roll your eyes at him and he starts grinding on your lap, “okay, I-I get it now why you like this so much.”
You laugh at him, as you begin to feel your own arousal in a way that is new.
The two of you spend the night tangled in Azriel’s sheets, exploring this jewel reality you’ve found yourselves in.
-
You woke up in your own body, thank the mother, and the two of you go to Rhys’s office to find Rhys, Feyre and Cassian already in there.
They all peer at you, the unspoken question in their gazes.
You beam at them, “I am myself again.”
Azriel huffs, “I’m glad I can actually reach things again.”
You pout, hitting him on the arm, “hey, it could have been worse. You could have been stuck in some ugly person’s body.”
“Yeah, like Cassian.”
You two chuckle as Cassian’s face gets an irritated look on it.
You and Azriel leave the room, and Feyre turns to Cassian.
“Do you think they had sex last night?”
Rhys turns to Feyre, “there is no way they didn’t. They’ve been sneaking around for months.”
Feyre gasps, “no they have not!”
The two bicker back and forth over whether or not the two of you have been hooking up, and Cassian is uncharacteristically quiet.
“Did you hear anything, Cass?”
Cassian is brought back to the present, telling them he hadn’t heard anything. Truthfully, he knew you two were sneaking around, but he kept it to himself, worried the teasing might mess things up for you two.
You and Az skip off down the hall, both of you going into your room to explore all the things you found out about each other, and Cassian laughs lightly to himself, thinking about all the ways he’ll tease the two of you.
But that’s for another day. Another day when he feels like his brother’s insecurities won’t eat him alive. Another day when his brother will feel like he deserves you.
Another day.
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