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kisakis-boyfriend · 26 days ago

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Private Affairs

Author's Note: This was just supposed to be a random thirst, but my hands wouldn't leave the keyboard 😵‍💫 Part 2 coming later today!

Pairings: Dan Heng x male reader

Warnings: Male!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Dan Heng, breeding kink, Dan Heng's hole is referred to as "pussy, cunt, & boypussy", implied Caelus/Dan Heng/Reader at the end

For once, Dan Heng was thankful that the door to his room could be locked. While he normally had no problem with people visiting out of the blue, well… if anyone walked in at this very moment, they'd probably find themselves at the end of his spear.

So, of course, the usual occupants of the Astral Express would need his assistance. Every last one of them, to be more precise.

The first to stop by is March 7th. Her perky voice chirps just outside of the room; “Hey, Dan Heng, are you busy? I need your opinion on something!”

“Y-yeah– a little busy right now. Can it wait?”

There's a strain in his voice that's not normally present. March picks up on the change immediately, questioning in a suspicious tone. “Are you feeling ok? You sound funny…”

She can't see it, but she can almost feel Dan Heng roll his eyes. “I am… I'm just– unf~ mm~ just searching for something in the archives…” His chest bangs into the wall, and from his parted lips flows a noise that he prays his friend didn't hear. “AaAAaaHhhH~ Something deep in the archives… oh fuck–!”

She eventually leaves, though she has to be reassured a few times. What she also didn't see was her friend pressed up against the wall on the other side of the door, biting his sleeve and digging his fingers into the wall while you—Dan Heng's good ol' pal—breed his hole.

You're still holding onto his waist when Pom Pom rushes up to the door, shouting something about the lighting in the cars…?

“I-I'll be out there to look at it in a bit…” Dan Heng stutters, hoping the lop-eared conductor will take that as a sufficient answer.

Just as soon as you hear their little footsteps disappear, you're sliding back inside, dead set on emptying another load into your "friend's" boypussy.

In typical Dan Heng fashion, he's chastising you about "getting caught" or "someone hearing you" and "you're such a pervert". But as he's saying all of these things, he's still not stopping you from pounding his cunt — in fact, he's even giving you orders to "at least fuck me like you mean it".

As luck would have it, Himeko passes by next — who most likely hears the sickening slick noises of your dick as it breaches new territory, going even deeper into Dan Heng's fucked out hole.

“Dan Heng, is everything alright…?”

This time, you have to answer, because if your "good friend" dares to speak right now, something other than words would spill out. “Heeeyy Himeko! We're a little busy at the moment. Did you need something?”

The knowing smile on her lips comes through as she hums “Oh, it's nothing. Don't let me interrupt~”

Well…at least you can count on her not to rat either of you out…

Even with the countless interruptions, you've managed to keep a bruising pace — you even have Dan Heng on the cusp of becoming nonverbal. His perfect ass bounces with your rough thrusts, taking your cock like a perfect little angel.

You lift his leg up, and with this new angle you're able to slam into his prostate. The garbled sounds pushing their way out of him��as well as his cunt clenching down on your cock—drive you mad, and you end up breeding him again just as Welt stops by–

“Dan Heng, hello?” Everything comes to a halt — Dan Heng's cock slaps against his stomach as you shove your dick all the way inside, plugging him up and forcing him to stand on his tiptoes. His eyes cross, and before he can moan so loudly the entire train would be able to hear it, you cover his mouth.

“Yes?” you reply.

“Y/n? Is Dan Heng with you?”

You feel your cock throb, and you're sure Dan Heng does too. You can also feel the heavy amount of cum stuck inside of him—unable to drip out with your dick still inside. His hole grips your shaft tightly, and you suppress a groan before answering the man outside of the door; “Yeah, he's sorta focused on looking up something.”

No indication that Welt suspects anything. “I see. If you could both find me later, there's something I wanted to show you. It's no rush.” His footsteps fade back to the parlor car.

Dan Heng gradually slumps against the wall, held up only by your tight grip in his hair and the other hand on his waist. Not even the energy to glare at you as he whines.

Another set of footsteps approaches — your last visitor is none other than Caelus. What absolute perfect timing.

Caelus knocks on the door, sounding surprised when your voice is the one that greets him. “Hey, trailblazer, need something?”

“Just looking for Dan Heng. Is he in there?”

“Sure is. You can come in.” you reach over and unlock the door with an audible clunk.

!!!!!!

“O-oh! I um…” the silver haired man stares at his two friends. Dan Heng — flushed and whining. His dick still dripping a bit of cum onto the floor. And you — a little worn out, but cocky as you remain buried inside of Mr. Cold Dragon Young, with a creamy ring around the base of your cock.

Caelus' hands shake as he fumbles for the door handle, but it's no use. You slide Dan Heng's door shut and lock it again, finally speaking in an expectant tone. “Well—gonna stand there like a deer in headlights, or do you wanna help me clean up?”

#my writing #oneshot #dan heng #dan heng smut #dan heng x male reader #dan heng x reader #honkai smut #hsr smut #hsr x male reader #hsr x reader #male reader #dom reader #top reader #dom male reader #sub male character #sub hsr

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arminsumi · 1 year ago

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Can i request megumi comforting reader after a bad day? i need happy comfort fluff today and you words are magic

★ Stargazing with Megumi

★ Pairings : fem reader / Megumi

★ Synopsis : Megumi takes you stargazing. Who knew he was such a space nerd?

★ Content : fluff, comfort, cheesy/dorky flirting

★ Note : 🪄🔮 sprinkling cosmic happiness dust on u rn!! hope u feel better!!

Arms spread out, laid on your back in the cool grass as a humid summer breeze drifts by, looking up at the dusky purple sky as stars slowly start to appear one by one.

Megumi shifts around next to you, trying to get comfortable. He bends his knees, you glance at his legs and note how much longer his legs are than yours.

A soft sigh leaves his nose. He brings his hands together over his midriff and fidgets his fingers while stealing sideways glances of you.

One particular star in the sky has caught your attention. It shines like a jewel. You blink at it, ignoring all the other littler stars that are coming out.

"Megumi, which star is that?" you ask.

"That's Venus."

You stare at Venus. "Why is it so much brighter than the rest?" you wonder aloud.

Megumi looks over at you, his heart throbs, then he looks back to Venus.

"Because it has thick clouds that reflect lots of sunlight." he answers your curiosity, "Uh, and it's the closest to earth. You know, it's also the hottest planet in our solar system — because of its clouds."

He goes on a long, dorky ramble about planets and constellations. You smile and listen to him geek out about space.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

Just a few hours earlier, Megumi had found you lingering gloomily on the steps outside Jujutsu High.

He did a double take and furrowed his brows when he saw your weighted expression. Characteristically, he sunk his hands into his pockets and approached you coolly.

"What's that heavy face for?" he asked.

"Bad day." you shrugged.

"Oh..." he stiffened, "What happened? Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.

"No, nothing in particular happened." you replied, "It's just been one of those days, you know?"

He scrambled his brain for ideas that could make you feel better.

What would the others do?

What would Yuji do? He'd crack jokes until you smiled and then infect you with his contagious laughter. What would Nobara do? She'd take you out on the town for retail therapy — and hype you up in the fitting rooms until you felt like the hottest person in the world. What would Gojo do? Probably give you one of those bone-breaking hugs while saying something dumb like "Don't be sad, it's just life, kid."

But joking didn't come naturally to Megumi, and he didn't believe in retail therapy, and he was too shy and reserved to give you a bone-breaking hug, and he was too sensitive as a person to tell you to just get over it.

"Uh, do you want to stargaze with me?" he asked.

That was the only idea he could come up with. Laying in the grass and stargazing was something he did when life exhausted or disappointed him. The stars could call back his calmness.

⁕⁕⁕⁕

"... I feel bad for Mercury, it must be lonely without moons." Megumi finishes his long ramble about Mercury.

"I think I'm Mercury." you joke, laughing at yourself.

Megumi looks over at you, "Then I'll be your moon and keep you company."

Your cheeks warm up.

"Okay, then let's tell 'em to rename Mercury to Megumi and throw a me into its orbit, too."

Megumi fidgets with his fingers more as you and him flirt like dorks.

"... yeah, and then you can orbit around me." he nods.

"Sounds like a good time. I'd love to orbit around you."

His cheeks go red, but the lamps are too far away to illuminate his face and reveal his blush to you. So you just barely see his lips purse together into a smile.

"I'd also love to orbit around you. I could be like your moon admirer."

You burst out laughing at last, and then Megumi feels accomplished; he could actually fix your mood with some stargazing and dorky astral flirting.

For the rest of the night, he teaches you how to spot famous constellations and passionately talks about outer space. At some point, when he's saying something about Pluto, you zone out to his voice.

"... and you know, personally, if I were Pluto I'd be enraged. How dare they."

"You got a bone to pick with NASA, Megumi?" you chuckle.

"It wasn't NASA it was the IAU. And yes I have a bone to pick with them."

"So, why was Pluto downgraded to a dwarf planet?" you ask.

Megumi clicks his tongue, "Uhhh... something about it not absorbing surrounding debris or something? Like asteroids and stuff. But jeez, maybe the asteroids are Pluto's friends and he doesn't wanna absorb them, you know?"

You turn on your side and use your arm as a pillow. Megumi feels you looking at him, so he looks over at you.

"You're quite passionate."

"That's a nice way of calling me a space nerd."

"No, I mean it! I hardly ever see you talking so heatedly about anything. You're usually pretty calm."

Megumi smiles a little. "Bet it's funny to see me heated about big rocks floating in a vacuum, huh?"

"Yeah it's hilarious. Anyways... we should get back before we fall asleep here."

"Have you never slept under the stars? It's a great experience." Megumi says.

"I have not. But it's getting cold so... you better keep me warm."

Megumi tenses up as you snuggle him. The sudden closeness and feeling of your warmth and softness takes him aback and he goes completely silent.

You rest your head in the crook of his shoulder, sinking into him like a pillow.

"Hey Megumi?"

"Yes?"

"Isn't Venus the planet of love?"

"Yes...?"

"Nothing, nothing... just thinking."

His heart pounds.

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

#fluff #sfw #jjk fluff #megumi fluff #megumi x reader #megumi #megumi fushiguro #megumi x fem reader #megumi x y/n #megumi x you #jjk megumi #fushiguro megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #drabble #arminsumi

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galebrainrot2024 · 9 months ago

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Oh boy this one is a little salacious and indulgent. Anyway, we're back!

Summary: Inspired by the image below, gender neutral and unnamed Tav and Gale get a moment alone without their companions. Sexually explicit, denial, mutual masturbation, restraint, voyeurism, oral sex

Read on Ao3 | Master List | NSFW18+

Gale strides to the throne, running his fingers over the spines of the books, admiring the unique craftsmanship. “A bit self serving, if you ask me. Anyone who’s well read wouldn’t require such a gaudy display for their supposed knowledge.” You can’t help to roll your eyes in response and he gives a cheek grin. “Am I wrong?”

The rest of your companions returned to camp while you and Gale scourged the wizards tower, looting what you were able and taking the moment to yourselves. It wasn’t often you had time privately and away from the others. Now, here you were - isolated and contained together.

You watch as the sunlight whispers through the large paneled windows, kissing Gale’s skin and feel yourself spark to life, the tendrils of need licking up your spine. Your cheeks flush, tempted as you watch his fingers continue to run over the books, admiring their skill… you swallow hard.

As he drapes himself into the chair and leans back cooly, you feel gripped with the desire to please him, to get down on your knees in front of him and bring him to the zenith of pleasure. To worship him. He reads the lust on your face and slouches a bit cockily, raising a brow and flicks his wrist to conjures a mage hand in a flash of purple hue. He studies the hand for a moment before tossing a wicked grin your way, his pupils blown wide. When Gale speaks, his voice is low - “Are you alright, my love? Your cheeks are looking rather… flushed.” Gale rests an elbow on the arm of the chair and looks at you as if you were his prey, leaning back in the chair languidly and brushes his bottom lip with his thumb. His legs spread as if in invitation, the familiar mischievous glint evident in his gaze. You feel the tingle of your shared arousal course through your veins and your breath hitches. “It’s not often we find ourselves with such privacy. Might I suggest we take advantage of this gift of serendipitity?”

“What did you have in mind?” You breathe, though your body already seems to know the answer. The voracious urge consumes you, the need to entwine your limbs, the carnal ache for the delirium of bliss by his hands.

“Ah,” he chuckles darkly, raising a brow and leans forward. “Quite a few things, and none of them require this…” he gestures to your body, “extensive armor.” He clicks his tongue and the mage hand extends towards you, brushing through your hair. The movement sends a shudder down your spine. Your lips part as the fingers brush the hollow of your neck and skims your hems, begging to unlace and unbutton the fabric that stands between your naked form and Gale.

The erogenous heat fills your center and he watches you come undone, feeding off your desperation as the mage hand deliberately undresses you. The fingers work unhurried, the throbbing between your thighs growing with every light caress and brush. You shudder and try to shoo the hand away when it then grips your wrists together, Gale’s darker appetites seeping through. You gasp, surprised by the firm, sudden moment. He clicks his tongue again, “it’s unlike you to be uncooperative, my love…” the hand tightens around your wrist and he conjures another to begin to undo the rest. You feel your knees buckle and your lips part, wanting.

Whenever Gale was in this mood, you couldn’t resist pushing back against his hubris and the fixation with making you squirm. To deny you pleasure and inch you closer to the edge without quite giving into you. It is a game, and you will not be the first to yield. You feel your heart thrum wildly, this the first time you’ve been alone since the night in the astral plane. Your eyes drink Gale in, the way his robes cling to his form, highlighting the half formed arousal beneath the robes. It makes your mouth water, wanting to taste every inch of him. You again try to work against the hand and are met with resistance. Another manifests in front of you, tracing idle patterns between your thighs before it continues disrobing you. The air is cold against your bare skin as your armor falls away, leaving you standing stark in only your undergarments.

Gale rests back, his head tilted against the chair and you see him stir to life, his eyes frenzied with insatiable need. Gale licks his lips and a smirk dances at the corners of his mouth as he manipulates the hand with deft twists, and you stand dumbfounded - goosebumps rise across your body from the cold and your nipples stand alert. The hand brushes up your torso and up your chest, barely tracing your neck. You shudder and Gale leans forward hungrily. “Is something the matter?” His voice is thick with lust and he bites the tip of his finger as he uses the mage hand to caress your body. You feel the fire bloom within and your core pools with frenzied longing, squirming as the hand finds its way between your thighs. You hear yourself whimper and a plea falls from your lips. Gale leans forward more, his legs spread wide as he rests on his knees.

Your eyes lock on one another, profound craving and an almost punishing thrill of what was to come charging the air between you. Your underwear betray your sweet arousal and the hand barely brushes over your clothed sex. You inhale through your teeth, “Gale please…”

Gale leans back again, one of his hands snaking between his thighs to hold the evident bulge under his robes. “Please what?” He asks, his eyes flicking to the arousal between your thighs and you hear him groan. The wait is exquisite. “Use your words, darling.”

You try and as you do, the mage had around your wrists tightens and begins to push you forward and you oblige. Gale’s legs seem to spread wider as you approach and he leans back, beckoning you. As you approach, your body undulates with torturous need, the arousal between your thighs severe. He flashes his brows and flicks his gaze to the floor before him. You fall to your knees, and he leans forward, taking your chin in his hands and brings his lips to yours. The kiss is lecherous, his tongue forcibly parting your lips to roll over yours. You whimper and moan, squeezing your thighs together and another hand materializes. The hands spread your legs and work one thigh each, your hands still restrained by the first.

When Gale pulls out of the kiss you are both breathing deliriously, his black pupils revealing his craving for more. He stands in front of you and disrobes, the thick bulge in his briefs begging to be freed. Your body responds, lips parted and mouth watering. You lean forward and lick across where his briefs meet his lower torso. His hand holds the back of your head as you do this and a guttural moan escapes him.

Your carnivorous excitement takes over and you grip his briefs with your teeth, pulling them down his body. He laughs darkly, “Very good…” he purrs and you look up at him, eyes wide and eager. Gale sits back in the chair and you are entranced - he releases your wrists and the hands caress your lower body. With your hands freed they find their way to Gale’s thighs and you grip them tightly as your lips graze along in tandem. You can sense the hands massaging your butt, the source of your arousal as if to encourage you to please him.

His pulsating erection demands to be sated and you eye him, your tongue flicking higher and closer to the source of his pleasure. You hear him moan, his hand still lithely guiding your head between his thighs. The saliva in your mouth pools yet before you are able to take him, he pushes your head away. You whimper and feel the hands beginning to massage and pleasure you, your eyes flutter and you hear Gale sigh as he watches you.

Gale’s hand guides you forward now, succumbing to you and you meet him eagerly, your grip firm on the arms of the throne. Your lips wrap around the tip of his erection and saliva pools downward onto his shaft. He grunts and you roll your tongue over the sensitive tip and he squirms as you take him deeper into your mouth. Gale rewards you with a groan and thrust, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat deliciously. You suck as if famished, your voracious thirst for him fueling the skill of your mouth and tongue. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he begins to push harder into your mouth and you feel the hands between your thighs increase their tempo and firmness. You moan against his cock and the vibration makes him twitch, his body slick with sweat as you take him and indulge. You lick across his shaft and fondle the bridge between his ass and penis which causes him to writhe beautifully. You smirk and use your hand to grip the base of him, bringing your lips to meet your hand as you work him.

Gale comes undone, the grip in your hair sending you reeling and the hands torment you, bringing you closer and closer to bliss. Each time you feel yourself close to release, the hands pull back and you cry out desperately, your mouth full of Gale as he retreats. You suck harder, frantic, seeking the full flavor of Gale’s arousal. He is salty, warm in your wet mouth and his movements begin to grow more urgent, volatile. Your jaw aches and tears form at the corners of your eyes and your saliva covers his throbbing erection as he bucks into your mouth. You relax your throat, allowing him to plunge deeper into you and he moans louder, the sound anguishing music as he continues his retreat from your pleasure.

You pull back and you feel Gale’s hand resist and he groans, almost in frustration. He tries to press you back to him and you resist, you grip him tightly with your hand and you gaze up at him as you lick across his shaft. His lips fall open and his head tilts back. Suddenly, you feel a hand manipulate you aggressively, so close to allowing you release that you fold your entire mouth over Gale and he cries out in animalistic pleasure, plunging into your mouth as the hands work you. “Oh fuck…” he grips the back of your head almost too hard, his cock slipping deep into your throat and you moan as the warm, sticky cascade of his climax shoots into your mouth and you suck violently, tasting every part of his pleasure as he allows the hands to bring you to your own rapture while you taste the fruit of your labor.

He collapses into the chair and you onto his lap, resting your head on his thigh - both of your breathing is ragged and shallow, the calm settling between as your breath comes back to you. He brushes his fingers through your hair and across your cheeks and you look up at him. He is flushed and grins, almost sheepishly as you say: “You are full of surprises,” you murmur and kiss thigh before pulling yourself up to kiss him.

It is slow, tender, and you see him thrum to life again. You raise a brow and he shrugs before murmuring, “Well… we have time for a bit more, wouldn’t you agree?”

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endursent · 15 days ago

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- Opened doors

【 content; sunday x reader , astral express sunday , cockwarming (sunday giving) , anal sex , comforting , halovian biological headcanons , penis haver!reader , NSFW 】

【 note; this is for the penis havers and wanters out there of any gender. stay strong in the perpetual drought of reader-insert fics dedicated to you, you're stronger than any troops. can of course be enjoyed by anyone, as usual no gender nor appearance described. 】

【 word count; 2.450 | read on ao3 】

You had barely started and Sunday was already digging his fingernails into your sides—whether in protest or pleasure wasn’t clear by the action alone. He was so still and stiff you wondered if he had changed his mind.

“Sunday, if this is too much, we can—“

“No—it’s fine, i-it’s fine,” his words aren’t very convincing, mumbled and stuttering as they are, so you try again.

“I can finish tending to your wings first, then we can do this,” it was slightly your own fault, you had offered him a seat while you go through his thinning wings to remove any feathers that have loosened but cling stubbornly to the ones around it… and Sunday is having a hard time already, giving him options isn’t the brightest idea right now while he’s adjusting.

He frowns slightly, chin on your left shoulder as his fingers stop clenching your poor skin and he instead wraps his arms around your torso, holding firmly. “No…”

It’s impossible to read his thoughts on a normal day, and you expected it to be easier today—this isn’t your first time helping him through moulting, it takes several weeks to complete the process for adult Halovians and you’ve helped him through it once before… though it took some convincing to let you help.

Sunday is stubborn and reclusive, though he’s less avoidant now after so long with the Astral Express… he learned the hard way that trying to ignore or avoid certain members only makes them more persistent and determined, it’s still a great effort to get him to accept help. Not because he doesn’t want it—he does, so badly—but because he neither wants to take your time nor waste it on something he could do by himself and has always done.

Unfortunately for him, you need to know his thoughts to help. “Hm, well, I won’t start until I know you feel well enough for it,” your own hands resting on his hips clap his skin lightly, just enough for a small smacking sound to snap in the air.

Instantly, he straightens as if a sudden burst of energy knocked him on the forehead, his golden eyes squint at you with the greatest offence he has shown. “What must I do—to prove it to you?”

Almost as if defiantly, he clenches even further around you—he’s been holding on tightly already—and nearly forces a groan from your throat. He’s so damn warm, inside and out. It’s a dangerous combo, to have him warming your dick, and giving you that defiant look at the same time… you almost give in. Almost.

But you don’t particularly feel like having him pass out on you from the feeling of having his wings touched as thoroughly as you will as well as the intensity of cockwarming you at the same time. You prefer to have him aware and enjoying it just as much as you are.

“How about naming every world in the Tiberius system backwards?”

His wings twitch in agitation. “That—that’s not even a real star system.”

“Yes it is,” you insist. “I read about it.”

“Then why don’t you name them and—stop stalling?” he says, voice tinged with annoyance and impatience.

A smile spreads on your lips. “I’ll get started then.”

He clicks his tongue in frustration. You didn’t want him to name anything—if Sunday had started blabbering some made-up names to get you to start and stop talking in desperation, you would have known he wasn’t in the position to do this.

Sometimes, you do like to use the perfectly functional brain between your ears.

His wings itch and ache, a dull throb that isn’t particularly bad during daytime when he’s out and about—but as soon as he takes his coat off, it intensifies until he massages for a long enough time or puts a salve between the feathers.

As soon as your hands leave his sides—the assured hold that’s been anchoring him since he sank down onto your stiff length—he almost feels off-balance, but it’s quickly rectified once your fingers touch his wings and he whimpers at the touch. You had barely slid your thumb under the ridge of his left wing and between the first two feathers, and he was already twitching and shifting subtly, causing your touch to falter as his hips moved just little bit and you almost give in to the desire to snap your hips upwards, but rein in every single thought and willpower you can muster.

Maybe this is going to be harder for you than it will be for him.

Swallowing thickly and continuing despite your extremely distracting throbbing inside of his hole, you carefully and firmly—but gently of course—nudge and press against the sensitive feathers of his wings. You comb two out and the base of his wings appear thinner, your fingers brush by feathers that are emerging and they feel impossibly soft and delicate.

Halovian wings are sensitive—but they’re not necessarily stimulating, having them touched tickles at most, yet during a moulting when the flesh and feathers are so fresh and vulnerable, it somehow amplifies the feelings fivefold and can promote certain feelings of pleasure.

Sunday’s eyes flutter closed, eyelashes equally soft as his wings as they brush against his cheeks and he leans into your touch instinctively. “Mmh… wait, go back—there, again… just a little…”

You follow any instructions he gives, despite the way your heart races with every movement he makes the slightest movement, with the way his expression contorts into comfort and a focus on himself—where he can only feel the overwhelming touches and barely has room to consider your presence outside of the way you stretch him with a mild, twitching burn.

Releasing one wing to reach for the oils he had prepared on the bedside table next to you, Sunday peers his eyes open, but closes them again when he sees why you stopped.

Outside of the now two times you’ve done this, you don’t generally touch Sunday’s wings… mostly because touching them—or stroking them specifically is an intimate act that despite your relationship (that has never quite been defined, as he finds an escape at the mention of it) he’s been hesitant about letting you do. And you’re not one to be pushy if he feels uncomfortable, a step forward can quickly become two steps backwards if you push too hard.

But despite the difficulty of navigating this delicate companionship… you find it to be worth the hassle, after all, having his slim—though a bit boney lately, the moulting requires a lot of energy and nutrition to sustain itself, and you imagine he hasn’t taken the best care of himself that he could—body pressed to yours, his soft whimpers and breaths trembling with every press of your fingers as you carefully massage the sore appendages. Your own cock is buried deep within him, throbbing desperately for movement that takes half your focus to suppress, while his twitches stiffly between your stomachs, now leaking slightly against your skin as a feather that was half-loose detaches when you nudge it only slightly.

Sunday’s lips part as your finger touches the area where the feather just fell, and you feel a deep urge to kiss him, to slide your tongue between his open lips and feel the sounds he makes instead of just hearing them. But you fear that might completely overwhelm him to a point it might make him dizzy. You will have plenty of opportunities to kiss him later.

The oils both are both cooling and soothing, helping ease the ache that comes with the development and lowering of new feathers. It’s always a bit funny to see how his wings get shorter and thinner, like a baby bird, before they grow again into the expressive appendages that you love so much.

“Sometimes,” you start talking and Sunday’s eyebrow twitches, brought out of his thoughts and focus. “There’s six wings, where are the other four now?”

“Stop talking,” he mumbles. Half your focus is on tending to his wings and the other half on holding back from thrusting fiercely into his welcoming heat. Thus as soon as you open your mouth, your hands still.

“I’m curious,” you hum. “Tell me later?”

He huffs as your hands start moving again, you’re almost finished anyway. “Fine…”

Feeling a little mischievous, and pouty by his dismissive response, you lightly pinch the ridge of his wing where it bends—and immediately, Sunday jerks in surprise, his wing stretching fully as his eyes fly open and his entire body tenses. He hisses your name as he clenches so tightly around you, your vision nearly dots, warmth and sparks shooting through you like an electrical line and you can’t stop yourself from pushing further up into him.

With both of you surprised and disoriented by each other, as well as you finally granting the delicious friction of movement—if accidental—Sunday grasps your shoulders tightly and inhales sharply. “C-careful…!” he blinks, the combined tingle of his wings and the pressure of your cock is a delicate balance that he’s very quickly losing hold of.

Your breath shakes when it leaves your lips, you feel dizzy with need, the suppressed desire you worked so hard to keep under wraps while you tended to him is very quickly slipping between your fingers. “Sunday… I’m not—sure I can…”

He clenches his jaw, in equal trouble with himself as you are. “You got m-most of it… we can finish later,” it’s a long process of checking and preening through over a few weeks, you already found seven, that’s more than enough for one day.

It’s all you needed to hear, you’ll take good care of him after—now, you desperately need to move. You already prepared plenty of protein-rich snacks to promote a healthy moult, and you’re sure you’ll both be hungry after this.

Sunday lets out a strange sound when your hand lays on his lower back and presses him closer, you other goes around his back—and you turn the two of you around, Sunday’s halo clanks against the headboard as he finds himself on his back, he groans slightly and hits you lightly on top of the shoulder. “Y-you—don’t do that while you’re inside of me!” he chides. The feeling of so much movement and how you twisted slightly made him cringe even as it also felt slightly good—only slightly, he won’t admit to more so you don’t get any ideas of rolling him around.

Any thought of further scolding leaves his mind like the scattering of ash after a fire has been stomped out as soon as you drag your hips back, halfway out—and move back in. Carefully.

Sunday swallows thickly, he feels a throb pulse throughout his entire body, behind his eyes and prick the ends of his fingers and toes. His stomach is wet, his cock freely leaking more than he’s sure he ever has before he’s even reached a high. He breathes your name and his nails dig into your shoulders, you seem so focused—but he wants your eyes to be on his. Before, he might’ve been embarrassed to lock eyes with you, but right now, he feels that he might cry if he doesn’t see you.

You blink, the breathy sound of his voice carrying your name to your ears snaps you out of your focus—to not thrust wildly, to not grab his hips in a bruising grip and lick the mess off his stomach. Your eyes move before your head does, and you see the watery squint of his eyes, the slight scrunch of his eyebrows and you fear you moved too fast—perhaps you should have pulled out before flipping him down, did it hurt him?

“Sunday,” your hand moves from the mattress next to his head, your fingers—still slightly fatty from the oil—brush over his cheek, his lower eyelid twitches as the tip of your thumb slides below it. “Are you okay? Should I stop?”

Surprisingly, he smiles. A small tug of his lips that feels like a rare treat to see, it’s infectious and you smile in return. “Continue?” you ask, having stilled as soon as he uttered your name. Sunday nods, not quite trusting his voice to form words in a way that won’t sound embarrassing.

You lean down and press your lips to the edge of his eyes, they squeeze shut the moment before you touch them, and you feel a tinge of salt from unshed tears.

He trusts you, you take good care of him—always have, despite his tendency for doubts and isolation. You will always be there when he opens the door again.

The drag of your cock pulling back and pushing in again burns slightly, but with repeated movements, the feeling of pleasure overwhelms the pressure. He wraps his arms around your shoulders and tugs you into him, his thinned wings tickle your cheeks and shoulder as he presses his nose into your neck. Sunday can’t hold back his moans as you slide one hand under his thigh and lift it only slightly, managing a deeper angle without lifting his hips too much.

“Nghh—w-wait, that’s—“ Sunday jerks slightly as you rock into a particular spot inside of him, his entire body feels alight and his joints freeze as they are. His breath deepens as his back bows and his head tilts back, and you can’t help but press your lips to his, swallowing his moans and whines as his leg that’s not firmly in your grasp hooks around your waist. His words are muffled and clumsy against your lips as you increase your pace, he clenches around you in a rhythm that almost finishes you off instantly—but you can’t give in until he’s been satisfied. You need to hear and see him as he falls apart.

Sunday moves his head to the side and away from your lips, his expression pinching as the final thrust needed sends him over the edge and he cries out, and you quickly join him.

His head spins, Sunday feels like he’s in a whirl-winding pool—but realises the wetness he feels is just his own, and not pool water. He pants, squinting at you. “D-did you pull o-out?” he’s barely recovered enough to ask, and his body thrums so much still that he can’t feel it.

When you only give a sheepish smile, he pinches your ear, earning an; “ow!”. Sunday’s lips purse in a frown-pout. “You better help me clean up, then.”

He doesn’t even need to ask.

#sunday x reader #sunday x you #sunday #sunday hsr #honkai star rail #my writing #fics #big time content #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #comfort #fluff #kind of

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itstimetojellyfish · 6 months ago

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These days , have not been the best.( Dan Heng x Reader)

AHHHHHHHHHHH

Useless .

Everyone calls you that .

“Not even worth a single penny . “

“Don’t waste your time on them.”

You don’t blame them though , you were supposed to be there , helping others like you promised .

However , you left suddenly. This was because you had suddenly contracted a disease . If only you had taken the vaccine…. Then maybe rumors wouldn’t circulate around you .

Maybe the false information about you seeing another other than your dear lover wouldn’t be online and you would instead be in his arms sleeping .

( You hate yourself for being so weak)

Instead of being in the archives sleeping on your lovers futon with his other form wrapped around you , you’re sitting down in a cave on the planet you landed on .

Cold , alone , wet , and utterly miserable.

When the first rumors came out , Dan Heng saw them immediately, then he sought you out , seeing you talking with another man .

After you were done talking, he immediately confronted you about them , you thought he was foolish for believing them .

( You forgot that he revealed his past and now he’s insecure about your relationship)

You pay the price now .

People badmouthing you, tripping you , and even shoving you around , resulting in injuries that would leave a scar , both emotionally and physically.

Now , usually Dan Heng or the other Astral express members would help you , but ever since the rumors came out , they avoided you and seemed to loathe you .

( Do they all believe those lies?)

Your heart was torn apart and burned .

The one you loved most wouldn’t even spare a glance at you.

The people you deemed friends wouldn’t help you .

So now you’re on a cold , barren planet , abandoned , shivering , and crying .

(You wish they would’ve at least given you a blanket. )

(But you know you don’t deserve any kindness for being so weak and pathetic.)

So you sit there . Letting the cold wind slice through your clothes and hit your vulnerable skin , you start to pale .

You’ve always had problems with your body temperature. Usually you carry ice packs or blankets with you if the planet was cold or hot .

But the people left you here without alerting the Astral express so now you have no way of going home and sleeping.

You’re tired .

Cold too .

Soft pattering and loud thunder alerts you that it’s raining .

( You wish Dan Heng was here )

You curl in on yourself as a mock attempt to mimic the warmth your lover gave you when you were cold .

It’s useless .

Your arms are too small and cold , you don’t have a jacket or a soothing voice .

Your heart throbs and wails for at least a bit of affection , it doesn’t have to be a kiss , it doesn’t have to be a hug .

All you need is someone that cares for you .

Nothing else .

Nothing more .

You hate being alone . It makes you feel weak , vulnerable, and pathetic. It also reminds you of how much everyone hates you .

You sit there in the cave with barely any food for 2 weeks . Water is available since it rains pretty often .

You have a wound with an infection on your stomach and your legs are weak . You broke an ankle earlier trying to get some berries up on a mountain side .

Your stomach hurts and growls 24/7 and it’s making you vomit constantly .

Soon , you’re crying alone on the cold, rocky floor , stomach twisting unpleasantly as you writhe around in pain .

( You don’t hear the sound of something landing on the ground)

There’s a few clacks and then… you see pale skin and golden heels in front of you ..

Murmuring ensues and you wish that they would just kill you .

Then 2 pairs of black shoes come into your field of vision and a sweet voice gently whispers in your ears .

“ Hey… Y/N .. it’s gonna be okay , we’re so sorry be believed those rumors … “ Soft hands gently pull the slit on your clothes and an audible wince occurs as they see the gash on your stomach with an infection on it .

You close your eyes and go limp .

It sounds like March 7th. You miss her bubbly voice and tone .

Black fingerless globes come into your vision as you see a fluffy gray head . The gentle hands tilt your head and then you see amber eyes soften .

“ Dan Heng….medical… they’re …. “ The words coming from his mouth seem distorted and your eyes blink wearily .

You see bright red hair come into view as warm hands gently trace the wound around your stomach .

“ Poor thing…We’re so sorry for not coming sooner , your ankles broken too …”

You wince and whimper. The pain sears through your delicate senses as you try to escape it , though it doesn’t do anything other than amplify it.

Soon , you’re being lifted and you see the Astral Express come into view . Your eyes widen and then you squirm .

No! You can’t burden them again!

The arms carrying you shuffle to adjust your constant squirming , they then lift you up to the person shoulder and you see a pale white jacket .

A teal tail gently curls around your waist , careful not to disturb your wound and infection as they secure you in order to not open the wound your body tries so hard to close .

You whine . You missed this tail .. it would always caress your body and love it with all it could .

You made grabby hands in the air , asking for something you didn’t you know could get .

A warm fuzzy tip rubbed against your cheek as you slumped and curled in . The wound on your stomach stretching a bit making you wince.

A pink and blue head pops into your field of vision as you realize it’s Dan Heng holding you .

March looks at you with worried eyes as she sees how cloudy yours are .

Soon, you’re in the express , being stuck in a cuddle pile including Caelus , March, and Dan Heng , with at least 6 blankets on top of you as every one avoids the wound you have .

You had to stay at Herta’s space station for a while and then return to the Astral Express , the people who started the rumors about you are very much in the hospital.

They had almost gotten you killed without anyone knowing .

You gently turn on your side to see Dan Heng looking at you back.

You sit there like a deer in headlight . He gently places his hand on your chin before kissing you . His other hand trails down to your lower back and rubs it gently.

“ I’m so sorry” He nuzzles your forehead gently .

“ It’s … okay … “

“ These days haven’t been the best , so I’ll make the rest as good as I can.”

#Dan Heng x reader #honkai star rail #fluff #dan heng il #dan heng x you #imbibitor lunae #reader has social anxiety #Society is a bitch #Dan Heng knows.#astral express #caelus #march 7th #Himeko #pom pom #Reader is self deprecating

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justblades · 2 years ago

Text

⌕ INSATIABLE HUNGER, 18+

⟢ DAY 2 OF SPECIAL 2K EVENT — where in they basically use you to please themselves

⟢ CHARACTERS : gepard, welt & jing yuan x gender neutral! reader

⟢ WARNINGS : EXPLICIT, MDNI. not proofread.

GEPARD LANDAU

being a silvermane captain is a role not everyone can live up to - to be rid of greed, irrationality and trivial feelings is a masterpiece in its own that gepard landau undoubtedly attained. he always lives up to his name, a solid foundation the belobog citizens can rely on.

naturally, it gets tiring having to be resilient at all times. although he may not act like it's eating his resolve bit by bit the more his stress and fatigue piled up, he heard an unsolicited advice from one of his men. the advice wasn't aimed at him, it was just a conversation he accidentally eavesdropped in. they were two regular soldiers resting for a moment, blabbering about the most nonsensical things.

"have you heard? there's numerous glory holes at the bar recently built in the deepest alley of the administrative district!" one says and the other cackles, "glory holes? like where you put it in and get stimulated in return?" those sentences are all gepard could remember. he attempted his best at being undercover and not give away his identity as he slowly descends further into the back alley.

he thought it was something absurd, not until the blond slips his dick into the hole - his very own girth being encompassed with tightening walls. gepard's breathing becomes jagged, his strong hands tightly clasped on the wall separating him and the incognito glory hole. his brows furrow once he feels the 'glory hole' move, pushing in and out of his dick, already making such sloppy noises.

flushed pink tint brushes from ear to ear the longer he was pleasured in this eccentric setup. the male profusely sweats as climaxing feelings rush onto the throbbing crown of his dick. unintentionally, "i-i'm so . . clo—" slips out of gepard's lush lips and only felt his flames of desire fueled the moment he got to hear the person from the other side answer, "go ahead, cum inside me." the approval seals the deal, he bucks his hips forward with such a powerful thrust, filling your hole with his shape and seed. it was immensely gratifying to be filled up - you couldn't help but chime in, "come again soon . ." gepard only fixes his clothing, still embarrassed having to resort to this but he was already reconsidering.

WELT YANG

the old man happened to be roped in a series of bizarre situations, a scenario he must play along with in order to unravel the secrets of a particular world the astral express happened to stop by. unfortunately, the person welt must scrutinize was someone lecherous, reaching to the point where he pulled the old man to a particular bathroom stall which granted him a face painted of confusion from the brunet's features.

his wrinkles become more prominent at how his brows knit, "what are we to do exactly here, mister?" welt's voice pierces through the thick tension sitting in the air, fixing his black rimmed glasses with his index. "see that partition over there, mr. yang? go there and you'll know what's next." the person replies with a shit eating grin at the end. welt heaves a deep, blue sigh - following suit, just to play along.

not until a particular sight graces his vision, tongue sticking out of a hole, waiting for a visitor to lap in. he looks back and could see that he was still being watched, there is no other choice. with a swift movement, he brings all of his clothing down and slightly tap his erection on the surface, the saliva meeting with his cock's veins was warm, tracing goosebumps all over his skin.

how long has it been exactly? he didn't want to think of that and only spiraled further into pleasure to the point that he rocks his pelvis along with the glory hole's motions, his tip, cock's body and balls being smothered with edible lubricant and saliva all at the same. as the person from the other side of the wall continues to stimulate the old man, more guttural moans bubble from his throat.

"a glory hole . . the name might be misleading for new people . ." the brunet says, accompanied with sloppy noises echoing inside the stall. a question crosses your mind in the midst of the slick blow job you're giving, curious about the male's age as his husky voice and breathy sounded a lower timbre. however, no matter the age— he tasted rather perfect. his cum spills into your throat, a balanced taste of sweet and sour explodes like firecrackers in your tastebuds.

JING YUAN

everyone has secrets, even the luofu general jing yuan himself. whenever he's not on duty which happened a little too frequently— he'd find himself rousing such a lustful act in his own abode. a personal toy he calls whenever he's bored, horny or downright stressed. among those three circumstances, he yearns for his glory hole.

you had no idea you'd be the general's property— after all, it was a shady job offer at the beginning. but what kept your sanity at bay however is the fact that your identity is kept hidden; the payment was more than decent, it estimates up to six digits. it's a job you're happy to have but in contrary, not to boast to narrow minded people.

as you're summoned again by the silver haired, you carefully bend over and made sure the hole is adjacent to your entrance. with one smooth thrust, your hole was intruded by the familiar one, no other than jing yuan's. you clap a hand at your mouth from how a moan tried to escape out, but the more the sex prolonged, the more inevitable it was for you.

jing yuan huffs and exerts more power to his cock, basically jackhammering into your walls. he was long, thick and hot, from one stroke along he had you whimpering under his power, moreso follows are feelings of admiration for the general. "you're not permitted to speak, i know." his abrupt sentence catches you rather off guard.

"but you can let those moans out once in a while . ." the male proclaims, proceeding to quicken his pace with intentions of garnering more lewd sounds coming out of your mouth. you willfully oblige and let it all out, your noises of arousal and satisfaction chime into jing yuan's ears as if you were playing a sweet, melodic tune. "very good." he says, immediately feeling like cumming despite the session starting just five minutes in.

my masterlist !

#jing yuan x reader #welt yang x reader #welt x reader #gepard x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x reader smut #hsr x reader smut #honkai star rail

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chiyoso · 1 year ago

Text

“THE MARA'S WILL”

someone as fragile as you shouldn't have to reign the bloodied fields of cloudford, along with raging war against two powerful factions—as well as an internal presence that invaded your mind that started all of this mayhem.

content warnings; oneshot · female reader · honkai impact 3rd inspired · takes place after xianzhou arc · canon universe · manupulation · mentions of depressive tendencies · declining mental health · war · death · traumatic events · mentions of blood · fighting · sensitive descriptions · dead dove: do not eat.

author notes; an open ending is an open ending. i appreciate all your of love for this oneshot, but i won't be making pt2. ty.

The Astral Express.

A widely known faction of celestial mysteriousness that traverses across the galaxy, they dedicate themselves to the ways of trailblaze and adventure, an enormous train conducted by a rumored fluffy creature that travels through vast worlds with its starry residers.

However, you didn't expect to meet the faction like this. The time that you yourself encountered the famous members of the Express— or rather, they bumped into you.

A memorable impression, leading their hearts and minds to waver in complete uneasiness, fear and curiousity.

It was one of those moments. Moments of tranquility, replaced almost immediately with unsightly chaos, and screeching horrors.

And they weren't coming from you.

2:49 PM — CLOUDFORD, XIANZHOU LUOFU

NOW PLAYING ♪ TOT MUSICA

11 minutes until eruption.

ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᚲ ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛒᚱᚨᚲ

“F- Fu-aahh.... Haah...” You groaned in pain. The sounds of alarms, crumbling and a voice of elegant dread echoed inside your mind, chanting unfamiliar, incomprehensible sounds that you were unable to understand nor fathom its sound waves.

Your flesh continued to crack as gold seeped out from the insides, bright lightning marks all around your form, accompanied with your heavy eyelids, struggling to keep your consciousness as you panted heavily. Your thoughts fogged viciously with memories of all kinds, your mind had felt like a mix between ice and fire. A flaming vortex along with an Icy storm that seethed inside, causing a severe throbbing that had you wailing in pain in heaps of volume consecutively as you grip your head.

“M- Mr. Yang!” A high pitched voice trembled, struggling on her feet while a grey haired female helped her up to stabilize her balance.

“Go. Call for reinforcements. I'll take it from here.” He says, gripping his cane while the other hand hoists his frames up to his nose bridge, returning his gaze towards the sight of you.

Reinforcements?

“H-hhgk—” You coughed up gold. Your face stained with your aureate tears, gasping for air as you clenched the area of your heart, which was beaming light, pulsating with the same color as the liquid that stained your whole being.

What was happening?

You screech, lower limbs suddenly at work, executing swift dodges that your untrained body couldn't handle physically, stretching and tearing your muscles.

Something was fighting for survival, and it wasn't you.

Your actions lowered the morale of determination from the Cloud Knights that had stationed on the sidelines, now replaced with a panic and fear from your ever so visibly increasing strength and agility, etching negative emotions into their wounded states that you have inflicted previously.

The man with the glasses, distance away from you clicked his tongue in frustration, he had summoned a multitude of black holes, raining hellish orbs of gravity towards you in such high speeds and velocity, but you... despite your poor state of self, you've managed to avoid them all.

But,

Even you weren't aware of your own skillful sequences.

ᛗᛁᛖ ᚾᛖᚷ ᛟᚾ ᚷᛁᛖᚲ ᚷᛁᛖᚲ

ᚾᚨᚺ ᛈᚺᚨᛋ ᛏ��ᛉᛉᛖ ᛚᚨᚺ

“P- Please... shut... get out of m—”

Feeble attempts of retribution, cease your resistance.

Play into submission, child of Lan.

You cocked your head to the skies, letting out gutteral sobs to the heavens, screaming and pleading your heart out while your own nails dug into your skin, your eyes weeped in gold, blurring your sense of sight.

Your thoughts were a sea of fragmented memories, bad ones, the negative ones that only fueled your transformation and the thread of your consciousness that you desperately were holding onto, was now being threatened harshly.

The man in glasses gripped his cane, firming his hold while witnessing your overwhelming presence and what was happening infront of him.

You were talking to yourself. You were visibly in pain, you were weeping, and the mara that was supposed to overcome you right now was... being barely resisted. Resisted. Resisted?

That's impossible.

You can't resist the Mara.

Beads of sweat formed trickled down along his jawline, his eyes diluded towards the sight that was all too familiar for him.

Someone- or something was talking to you, and he felt nothing but the sensation of dread swell inside him.

He didn't know what to do. Based on your own visible actions, it was clear—you didn't mean to do any harm, you were struggling more than anyone in this dire situation.

You brought your tainted hands that was darkening onto your face, trying to hold onto what's left of yourself, your consciousness.

“PLEASE! L- LEAVE M—” You choked out.

You were stumbling on your feet, drowning in pain as you sobbed your pleas of desperation.

His face scrunches, biting his bottom lip, frustrated over his hesitancy and lack of determination into going all out against you.

You reminded him of a state that reminded him of his past companions from another world, a state that only led to an upbringing of a powerful force, leading to the destruction of humanity and civilizations, a state that almost destroyed his homeworld.

But he had to remind himself repeatedly, you were just... Mara-strucked. A man-made work from the schemes of Sanctus Medicus, their work, befalling to an unfortunate character before him.

But... why the hell were you talking to yourself? Why were you pleading? Crying? How were you still able to talk? And most importantly, how were you still able to resist your supposed inevitable demise?

You peeked through your digits, your eyes pierce to the man with glasses, before lowering your hands to your sides in idle, continuing to pant heavily in place.

Your stance had your staggering legs slightly bent, your chin upwards—but your stained eyes remained on the figure infront of you.

His eyes diluded upon meeting your sorrowful gaze, his hand tightened around his cane further, seemingly ready to take on any action you will commence, but he wished you didn't engage, he wished for your attacks to cease. He didn't desire to harm you at all—You were in obvious pain, emotionally, physically and mentally, and only his veteran observations can see that.

“M- Miss—”

“Kill me.”

You said breathily with your burning throat, your voice had been accompanied with a second, mixing with your original tone with a now deeper, and sinister chord that showed the fruition of the transformation you were currently experiencing.

Your hands find their way to your throat as you coughed out more gold, along with the taste of iron that mixed with the aureate liquid that had turned into an morbid shade of color from your blood.

Your legs gave in, bringing you to your knees while you continued to choke on your own secretes, sobbing continuously from the sensations you were experiencing.

“BENEFACTOR! SHE HAS FALLEN!”

“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!”

“END HER LIFE BEFOR—” “Gghk-... Nngh...”

“Reinforcements are on their way.”

“I- It hurts.... It HURTS!!!”

“Call for further units! At ONCE!”

“P- Please tell me I'll live...”

“BENEFACTOR ITS YOUR CHANCE!”

“M- Monster!” “M- MY ARMS!”

“KILL HER!” “HER STRENGTH IS ONLY-”

“KILL HER!” “KILL HER!”

“KILL HER!!!!”

“KILL HER!”

The man with glasses was overwhelmed with contradicting emotions, hindering his wavering will to use the opportunity of your vulnerability.

The cries and pleas of desperation from the several Cloud Knights that have fallen from your battle, ring through the bloodied field, along with your genuine—sorrowful filled sobs that only haunted and hesitated him much more.

His own thoughts were only mirroring the mess that you were in, having to be filled with deep memories of a life that was filled with death and torment, reminding him of his sins once again.

The child of the Hunt, hopelessly clings onto the wretched humanity, only to be shunned out and betrayed by your own race.

I feel their sea of desperation, their desires for your lesser existence to perish without a trace in the galaxy.

Give into the sensations of truth, let it embrace your poorly sculpted soul, for I will accept you without fail.

You were already on the floor arched, your hands had continued to hold your head, gripping your hair as you wallowed in your pool of tears, gold and blood that soaked your once beautiful skin.

“Sss-top... Stop... Please...”

You've already hurt your own kind.

“I- I... Hgk— Ahh-Haah...”

You've already inflicted enough despair and chaos to the point where these lowly humans cling onto their life in a feeble attempt of living.

“Th- That's not...”

Savor their pleas and screams of anguish as they call upon your death. You aren't wanted, you aren't needed.

“THAT'S NOT TRUE—”

The floor beneath your shaking body began to crack, the density and force around you had only drastically strengthen, creating a growing crater below you.

You are only inducing fear in your surroundings, and you are more than aware of what you're causing.

Hatred. Anguish. Despair. A need for violent measures. A selfish greed of clinging onto life from their grave wounds you placed upon them. This is all you.

All you.

Mindlessly in pain, your body unwillingly helps itself up despite your own injuries. You took a heavy step forward, only ceasing the noises that surrounded you as they witness your hauntingly beautiful yet bloodied form, but there was no attraction, they were now instilled with a new type of fear.

2:55 PM — CLOUDFORD, XIANZHOU LUOFU

5 minutes until eruption.

You were a golden death. A victim.

A new dreadful existence that was unintentionally yet successfully created by Sanctus Medicus.

The golden liquid had already burned the rest of your outfit. Your body only continued to pour gold from the rifts on your skin, your heart—or your now crystalized core, pulsated with consecutive glows, as if your former heart, and the rest of your biology had changed, in which case, it did.

That's it... Embrace it... Your perfected, honed and better self.

Shut up.

The voice chuckles, continuing to fog and envelope your whole essence.

The unwavering, unbearable pain was now released, replaced with the sensations of your skin, healing slowly. The paleness in your face had become warm once again along with your body.

Your hair only grew longer, luscious and free, your eyes glimmered in high self esteem once more, while previous cracks all over your body had almost disappear as if nothing was there in the first place.

You will never admit it, but you felt more healthy, you felt beautiful, you felt confident, you felt...

New, refreshed and reborn, and you grasped control of yourself once again.

Your newfound vigor and vitality only brought unease and curiousity to the Cloud Knights who loathed your existence being a supposed child of Yaoshi the Abundance now.

The man with glasses couldn't help but be reminded of his weakness from your newfound growth, he had hesitated until now, witnessing your upbringing and his own actions had left a sour feeling on his drying throat, unease had surrounded the man, in fear of what will commence. He doesn't know how much longer he can fight, accompanied with the knowledge of his two fatigued Astral companions seeking out help of any kind, but another question lingered in his thoughts;

What were you?

You weren't a mindless Mara-strucked individual that they've previously continuously dealt with, nor you had the appearance of golden leaves that battered and grew out of you. You were just a woman, at what he assumes to be your very prime, the high peak of your health, appearance, physicality and mental state, and your curiousity and confusion about your own state confirmed his assumptions.

“I-...” Your senses interrupt you as your instincts come into fruition, tilting your head to the right, only to reveal a Cloud-Piercing spear infront of your vision that had thrusted forward from behind. The light, horizontal slit from your left cheek which the Cloud Knight slightly grazed, begun to heal almost quickly, as well as suddenly realizing your hand was already around the unfortunate Cloud Knight's neck, lifting them up in a chokehold as their air supply begins to be cut off.

With widened eyes, you immediately loosened your grasp upon becoming aware of your actions, retorting your hand while guilt pumped into you.

“It- It was... It was instinct I-” Your voice cracked, bringing both of your hands to cover your mouth as your once blurred vision finally had a good look to your surroundings, grasping the situation and your hellish surroundings at bay.

Remember the sight.

Your mind throbbed once again, yet your nerves find ways to soothe the pain, but... even then, it will never be able to heal your aching heart and the damage you inflicted against the soldiers of the Xianzhou Alliance.

Instincts went into play once more, feeling a sudden familiar, pulling force behind moving towards you in a faster, denser velocity, only for you to barely dodge a faster orb of gravity that you had previously, went up against.

“W- Wait! I-” You turn your face quickly towards the man whom attacked you just now, only to be met with a bright, icy blade that moved quickly towards you, but both of your hands had already instinctively raise to your face, piercing both of your palms instead, grasping in the side of the bloodied tip of the cold sword that pierced you.

“FUCK!!! NNGH—!” You whimpered in pain, feeling the sensations of burning that sourced within your palms, along with the skin and nerves that was already healing, your own rejuvenating flesh, pushing out the icy sword as a 'CLANG' follows suit.

“Hmph. You're lucky I didn't throw it with too much force, otherwise you wouldn't be able to survive that!” A voice of a young boy graced the battlefield, turning the red sea into a cold, thundering storm of snow and ice, putting the injured Cloud Knights at ease and discomfort from the coldness that surrounded the environent.

“L-Lieutenant Yanqing!” A Cloud Knight gasped at his arrival, alerting the rest with jarred cheers erupting, while your gaze dilutes back and forth to the man with glasses—and a child who happens to be a lieutenant that had arrived.

“P- Please- I-”

“Save it servant of the Abundance!”

A continuing, cold breeze of snow enveloped the young boy, his aqua colored swords flying towards you once more.

Now equipped with newfound, engraved instincts that you have begun to get use to, your body- that had not tasted the ways of war and battle, danced its way around elegantly and flexibly from the skillful wrath of ice that relentlessly continued to attack you.

Despite your consciousness and having a sense of control once again, you felt another sensation, one that felt like another presence, another soul, tangled with yours, tugging at your essence, and it was most definitely the reason as to why you were moving in such a way, that continued to inflict fear and uneasiness to the Cloud Knights, and the man with the glasses whom continued to witness your dance of agility and grace against the right hand of the Arbiter General.

...

Why me...?

Imperfect.

There are many others.

...

The embodiment of failure and success.

Wh- What does that even mea—

A host of purity and defections all in one. All suited for me.

A canvas of the purest, warmest of soul, painted with absolute grief, sadness, regret, pain — yet harboring no anger, rage, hatred. A non-existent need for revenge.

Something a certain diciple of mine lacked, thus her inevitable defeat from the subjects of Akivili.

And you are mine to break and reconstruct. I can finally fathom why the Hunt had their arrows set on you.

The words gnawed your logical, racing thoughts, leaving you in a moment of disarray, visibly seen from your relentless opponent.

The Hunt... The... Reignbow Arbiter? But—

“Hhgk—!”

Tch. So flawed.

You felt another burning sensation to the left side of your waist, looking towards a deep cut that split your flesh into two from the icy blades that hailed like the rain against you, yet once again, it had begun to heal slowly, as sounds of your flesh and cells crickled, halting the young boy in his trained steps for a moment.

“What... What are y—” The young boy gets cut off.

Your gaze suddenly returns to the boy, with your left iris flickering into a golden color, replacing your original shade.

“Your demise.” The voice took over your vocals for a moment.

“N- No! you will NOT HARM ANYONE FURTHER!” You grit your teeth, holding your curled fists into each other, retraining yourself and letting the voice solely focus on avoiding further attacks.

How unpleasant.

Why do you continue to resist, child of Lan?

The sight of you... talking to yourself? No... Your voice had continued to change back and forth, only confusing him further.

Something was amiss, but the young boy and his youth couldn't fanthom the uniqueness of the situation before him, he had only one thing in his determined mind, the solution of exterminating a being that threatened the peace for the Xianzhou Luofu; You.

The boy took his stance, his flying swords once again stationed behind him, but a sudden deep voice emerges from behind him, only startling the whole battlefield in his appearance.

“Yanqing. Well done in keeping the adversary at bay.”

A commanding presence immediately intensified the trickling air of tension, only leaving sounds of sharp breaths and your continuous argument with yourself.

Hush.

Huh?

You fall into silence to its bidding, only to look around to the young boy, who was now accompanied with the famous Arbiter General, holding a glaive that had a threatening presence, along with the General himself.

“I apologies for my tardiness Mr. Yang. I had matters to tend to.” The strong presence spoke, his eyes hovering upon your naked, yet coated state, assessing the situation with an unknown gleam in his eyes.

“Where of Stelle and March?” The man with glasses walked beside him, mirroring his gaze upon the beautiful woman before their sights.

“I sent message to the High Elder Vidyadhra medic to tend to their wounds, not to worry, they will be back.” He said faced to him with a knowing smile, only causing goosebumps to your skin, he was taking in this stage you set lightly, only irritating the voice in your head slightly.

“Now... What of the contexts of this fascinating situation?” The Arbiter General's penetrating gaze returns to you, eyeing your undeniable attracting form. You were oblivious, but the voice wasn't.

Leave the premises, now.

Wha? W- Who are you to tell me what t—

The throbbing had begun once again. Their conversations sealed upon noticing your actions as your hands gripped tightly around your head, whimpering in place.

“S- Stop...”

No. If you perish, I-

...

Leave, woman.

“Is she...?” The Arbiter General looks towards the man with the glasses, his eyebrow raised slightly in speculation.

“She's... She had been at this state for more than a few minutes since earlier...” He frowned, gripping his cane, being reminded of fragments from his life that whispered evily to him.

“Who cares? Let's extinguish her presence already General!” Impatient, the young boy firmed his grasp around the hilt of his sword of ice, pointing the tip of the sharpness towards you, his sky filled eyes sending daggers to your direction with determination.

“Patience little lieutenant. One does not rush in unknown, trifling matters.” The General warns with a faint smile that doesn't reach to his eyes, and without a choice from the tone of command, the young boy's will wavers with a sigh, lowering his blade in defeat.

“P- Please, end me...”

Your words grasped the attention of the trio, while your tears began to flow, taking note of your willingness to submit in defeat.

“See?! Even—” The young boy gets cut off once more, earning a serious glare from the General that hushed him almost immediately.

“Please I-... I'm sorry for causing harm...” You continued to sob quietly, gritting your teeth while your head continued to throb mercilessly with ruthless, familiar pain.

I said leave now, and I'll cease the pain.

The Arbiter General takes a step forward, his left hand holding the body of his glaive, no words left needed to describe that despite his aloof hold around his weapon, he was more than ready for any attempt of violent assault.

NOW.

Mirroring the gesture of his, you took a step back abiding the voice's word, your glistening, heterochromic eyes lock with the readied General, only fascinating him further from your saddened, alluring gaze. Noticing your hesitancy for closeness.

“...My lady, if you escape this very moment, I will make sure that every inch of the Xianzhou Luofu will be well guarded, awaiting your presence in every corner you find yourself in to hide away from our— from my grasp.”

A silence from him ensued for a few long moments, following a faint warning smile from earlier, his gaze unwavering towards you while you weeped, assuming you aren't able to grasp his own chords.

“I- I do not... wish to harm anyo—”

“You're right my lady, I won't allow it.” He came closer, moving towards you with delicacy in his footsteps.

“ ... ”

...

...Stubborn child.

“Don't go, my lady.”

“It- It hurts... My head... General I-”

“Our High Elder Vidyadhra apothecary will assist you.” The General says firmly with undertones of softness, taking another step forward, but you remained still, weeping in silence from the continuous throbbing and regeneration of the nerves that seethed you repeatedly.

He manipulates.

S- Stop the—hhnghk... Please...

His experienced words, eons worth of vocabulary, coming into fruition, laying the power of syllables onto you. Do not—

I DON'T- I CANNOT CARE FROM THE UNBEARABLE PAIN YOU CONTINUE TO MAKE ME SUFFER IN!

A befitting punishment for your unwilling soul.

“I- I didn't mean to... General I- Hnnhk—...” Your form staggers, suffering from the internal turmoil that resumed, collapsing in place—but before you hit the floor, the sensation of warmth arrived behind your lower back and waist.

You found your crystalized golden core, your bare, coated chest pressed up against a man with command, towering and holding your suddenly weakened state that matched a situation one again in prior events.

“Jing Yuan.” He said, lowering his own golden to you, his expression, hidden with enthrall from your weakened state.

You hear the voice click its tongue.

“I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I'm so—”

“Hush my lady,” He said in his low, husk voice, holding your weakened body, his hand firming against the soft, coated and warming flesh of your waist, stirring a once familiar sensation that rooted in his stomach.

“General Jing Yuan—” The young boy averted his gaze with a slight flush in his cheeks. Jing Yuan had not heard him, lest deciding to tend to the injured Cloud Knights instead, grumbling under his breath.

The man with glasses came closer to the two of you, his gaze feigning ignorance on the display.

“Miss... What—” He gets cut off, both men alarmed from your sudden intense grip around his biceps, your golden, crystalized core beaming, pulsating rapidly along with your quickened breath.

A golden ray of light erupted from you surrounding you vertically in a circle, sending the light up towards the sky endlessly, alerting everyone who bore witness to the intense display.

So be it.

A powerful, echoing screech escaped your mouth, tilting your head up to the direction of the clouds that welcomed your gaze as rubbles of cement from the previous struggles of the battle began to levitate the surroundings.

”ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᚲ ᚷᚨᚺ ᛉᚨᚾ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛏᚨᛏ ᛒᚱᚨᚲ”

I claim your soul, little child of the Hunt.

You will be my host, my pure, imperfection of despair.

Only I shall intertwine with you, body, mind and soul eternally.

And this mortal, blessed with the lightning guardian spirit, shall be your first prey.

3:00 PM — CLOUDFORD, XIANZHOU LUOFU

The eruption commences.

how ironic, this fic being my first successful hsr fic ended up being the reason why i got my ppl pleasing tendencies back pfft. anyways, reblogs help my audience reach, thank you!

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darlingofvalyria · 1 year ago

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❝Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr.❞

part 04 | oh honey, you can do better than that

chapter summary:

[ How does Aemond Targaryen actually feel about you? Ft. Post Sex Limited Hot Water Shower, Totally, Definitely Not Phone Sex, and Jealousy, My Old Friend and His Pal, Misunderstanding. ]

[ +18 MDNI ] [ 4,981 ] [ series masterlist ] | best friend's brother!aemond targaryen x f!reader, ft. cregan stark x f!reader & aemond targaryen x alys rivers,

contains— gets fabulously smutty, fluff, angsty, sort of hurt/comfort - nsfw: creampie, rough sex, (f) masturbation - no gods, no kings, no betas.

a/n— this became way longer than initial thought sjdhsjhds, so the scene that was supposed to end it on wil lhappen next chapter shdjsh + comment, reblog & like at will, mwa ♡

You know when in books, they tell you that when you kiss someone, the world explodes in colour and feeling, in metaphors and fireworks? They forgo the physical description almost, to focus on how it feels to kiss someone.

How sometimes, when you kiss someone, you float through five different memories— three of does you don't actually have, but you know, metaphors, memories you can remember in feeling, your body astral projecting to other lifetimes because a kiss is just that good?

Kissing Aemond Targaryen is the opposite. Kissing him grounds you.

You can't think in colour or firework, only the feeling of his soft lips hum against your mouth, how your tongue drags a seam over his bottom lip and he groans, and his hands are on you, on your back, on the back of your head, devouring you in a feverish haze of soft, insistent— borderline desperate — kissing.

You get lost in him, how he tastes, how he feels, how he kisses.

Like, like— how his thumb, over the nape of your neck to press you close, holding you there, pressing on a sensitive skin behind your ear that makes you tickle, that makes a breathless giggle slip past your lips, and he chases the sound with his mouth. He is possessive in his hold, moving you so he can kiss you better, deeper.

Here comes the metaphor— but Aemond kisses like a conqueror, and you're weak and willing, falling into his chest, gripping his really, really nice button up shirt, trying not to sigh too loud or gods forbid moan, because in the back of your mind, you know you're in public.

But when Aemond kisses to conquer, the world mutes. He takes your senses as much as he is trying to de-virginise your mouth, regardless if it wasn't a virgin in the first place. Aemond kisses like he is devouring not just you and your mouth, but any remnant of everyone else.

Someone— the bartender — coughs and you pull away, breathing heavily. You don't open your eyes because you're embarrassed and disoriented, but you feel another kiss, not on your lips but on your top cheek, just below your eye. It's chaste. Sweet. It curls your insides and edges and you kinda wanna let him conquer you again.

"Ñuha riña," he murmurs against your skin. He tugs your head back, that thumb on the back of your ear, the other hand, curled over your hip, squeezing you lightly, and you finally open your eyes. Complication and lust wars in his gaze, but when your eyes drop to his swollen lips, you bit your own as you try not to sigh in want.

You are Helaena's best friend, you think, still staring at how red and juicy his lips had gotten, Father Have Mercy I Am Only A Woman My Vagina Is Throbbing Help. You cannot think that her baby brother's lips are sinful. It is disgraceful. Or how much you want to kiss him again. How much you want to feel his groan reverberate against your skin until it reaches your bones. Your marrow.

You paste a smile, and though your words are honest, you keep your deeper feelings to yourself. Caged and unwelcome, especially when his eyes look away. Look back at where you know Alys had just bore witness to the very obvious declaration.

Though it was brief, it grounds you harder than any kiss Aemond Targaryen could impart against your own.

He did this for her. Like an actor on a play. There's an audience and a fellow actor. This is nothing more than a scene to him.

As it should to you.

Didn't you kiss him?

Suddenly you wanted to be anywhere but near him. You step away but also don't want him to worry— there's nothing to worry about, right? — taking his hands and giving them a squeeze. He turns, and the lust is gone replaced with a softer look. You let your smile stretch before it dips in suspicion.

Aemond is sharp when he's using his brains. When his emotions cloud him— anger, lust, All The Feelings Reserved for Alys His First Love — his brain cells abandon ship except for two. They join hands and start gyrating.

He calls your name. Your smile stretches further but it can't reach your eyes so you look away, laughing brightly. Fakely.

"You kiss good. 10/10. But I'm not eating here after that." You flag the bartender and pull out crumpled tens before he could protest. "I'm ordering takeout and watching Angela Lansbury figure out more murders."

The way he says your name again lingers, trying to tug at your strings. A plead. He holds you steady with one elbow, and you hate it. You hate it because he can sense your turmoil when you didn't want it to be shown. Because kissing him didn't mean anything, and you were supposed to be more than happy helping him.

And you are.

Right?

Bitter thoughts have a tendency to pitch, and when you start wondering, comparing, if this is how he pleads with Alys— a gentle touch, a crisp, wandering look in your face trying to decipher what his next moves should be, how he should step, what he should say — you take a step back emotionally and physically.

You can't do this to him, but he can't do this to you too.

His hand is between you before your expression makes it curl into a fist.

"Okay," he says. "Okay. I'm sorry, riña."

You don't admonish him of his shit, instead you wink. You fake it. You keep trying because if you let your hurt be blatant between the two of you (why, why would it hurt?) (because you're being used & despite previous claims, it's fucking shit to be used???) it'll then be something to address. An elephant in the room.

For now, you shove the fucking elephant in the corner.

"This way, she can think we got so hot for each other that we just had to skip dinner." You try for a smile again and you win because you feel yourself calm down. "It'll be great, you'll see."

Kissing him is a dangerous endeavour. It's good (earth-shattering, would sell your soul 20/10), but no more kissing Aemond.

(As things that are meant to be set as rules go, this too, you will break).

What does a girl gotta do to ground herself when she's thrown off axis, spinning and spinning into cold, empty space?

You get fucked.

"F-fuck!" comes out of your mouth as you throw your head back, unable to do anything but spasm in your locked position; Cregan has your arms back against your body, his hips slamming against your ass, feeling his stones, his thick cock bullying that spot inside of you that has you creaming against him, your orgasm grabbing hold of your throat as you think and colour and profanity but it all comes out a garbled mess of moan and gasp.

And you don't just get fucked— you get fucked hard. Fucked with a capital F and an O.

Cregan grunts, barks his own profanity behind you as the overstimulation gets you whimpering, chasing his own high until his hips stutter and his warmth, thick and silky, spurts in ropes and lakes inside your battered womb. (Thank fuck for IUD because you're pretty sure his swimmers are of Excellent Top Notch Quality with how vicious he cums). He presses you 'till the hilt, releasing your arms to press a tight palm against your torso to keep you there as you grow lax and warm against him, occasionally twitching.

Thick, dollops of your shared wetness drop from between you as you both catch your breaths.

(Again, thank the gods for modern medicine).

"So..." With his chest pressed against your back, legs too wobbly to stand on your own, you mimic the same pattern of his breathing. Sharp inhales and braying exhales move in one for a minute or two, both of you trying to grasp thought.

"So?"

"Wanna talk about your problems now, babygirl?" he purrs in your ear. You smack his ass and he laughs, letting the voice drop.

"Call me that again and I'm sniping Cregan Jr."

A dramatic gasp of horror escapes him. "Sweets!" He slaps your shoulder. You yelp. "Don't say that when I'm still inside you!"

"Bitch, then get out!"

He smacks a wet kiss on top of your head, laughing with your own breathless laughter. "Alright, alright. Lemme just... Shit." You both wince at the feel of him leaving your abused cunt, your leg kicking in a twitch. "I think I came too much, you okay?"

There's real concern in his dark, dark eyes, and the pitch of his tone is serious. A real question that required an answer.

"Green as Broccoli, baby." You sigh, holding the wall in front of you to keep you steady. "Fuck, if you get me pregnant, I'm actually going to snipe Cregan Jr."

He holds Cregan Jr with a wounded look. "Cregan Jr help make Cregan the Third. You can't do that to family."

You blink at each other.

"Dude," you finally say. "Either my pussy just fucked you stupid or you're roundabout implying incest, and I am going to hurl."

After a quick cleanup, a shower that's less sexy and more trying to hog the hot water because for some reason Cregan's shower only has a limited amount ("Why the fuck is your apartment like this?" "It's a cheap place! Also, I'm the only one in it! Stop distracting me and share the shower, woman, damnit!"), and once both of you are dressed, dinner in the form of a takeaway, and Scream 2 playing on his TV— you drop your problems.

That's what you like about Cregan, recently as you found out. Things you may be... a little more hesitant to tell Helaena— because you know, this concerns her baby brother that she's protective about, that she asked for your help about — and Cregan is like a stranger peering into your life.

Apart from the good sex, there's not a lot that Cregan actually knows about you from now. Neither of you linger, truly, on the deep stuff. Sure you hang out, and you enjoy spending time with him, but— everything else, knowing you in the frayed edges, he doesn't hover. You don't either. And both of you are more than happy with the arrangement. It also puts unloading all this Aemond/Alys drama on him in a positive spin, as it actually lifts off the weird heaviness on your shoulder.

He whistles, patting the face mask you put on his face. "Babe, gotta say, I think you may like the guy past face value."

You groan. "That's not a good answer."

"You didn't deny it."

"Because there's nothing to deny, there's nothing to pursue. There's nothing there period."

He arches a thick eyebrow. "Now you're overcompensating with the denial. That was three different denials."

You nibble at your lip, giving a shrug. "It's how it all set up, you know? Like. Okay, sure did I think he was pretty cute? Yeah. But I'm Helaena's best friend first and foremost. My relationship with her precedes anything else."

"Even me?"

"Yes." You snort. "If she told me to drop you, I'd throw you."

Cregan's mouth falls open. "That is so vicious." You blow him a kiss, he bumps his shoulder with yours. "Is it just Helaena that stopped you from pursuing anything with him?"

"... Mostly. He was also younger. He was in high school when I met Hel."

He snorts. "From what you told me, he enjoys his ladies a little older. But you know, I know Hel. And if you think about it, you're both two people she loves, why won't she be excited at the prospect of two people she loves falling in love? Anyway, what Hel thinks isn't the biggest question of the math problem, sweets."

"What is?"

"How does Aemond feel about you?"

How he feels about you could be explicitly hinted by the messages and calls that followed. You got busy at the bar, new hires needed to be trained, and Aemond got busy with his University obligations, so 'Everything After' came in bursts when it could.

AEMY: I'm so sorry about blindsiding you that day. We were having a great day, you were helping me process my relationship with Alys, and I ruined it. I would understand if you didn't want to do this anymore. I am so sorry, ñuha riña.

YOU: aemy..., it is literally 230am

AEMY: I am so sorry.

YOU: go to sleep. i forgive you

AEMY: You do? I don't want you to think that you have to. You're allowed to be mad at me.

YOU: you sent this at 2 in the morning and i know how much you care about your sleep. u hate fucking up ur sleeping schedule. i know its eating you alive. u know what u did wrong and i care about u enough to forgive u.

YOU: now go sleep, aemy. love u sleep well. we're ok

AEMY: Thank you. I won't do that again, without your input. Good night, sweetheart.

AEMY: 💗

YOU: did u just use my fave heart omg

AEMY: I'm grovelling. Least I can do. Good night, riña 💗

YOU: gnight aemy💗💗💗

The next morning, having slept for five hours since you got home after your shift, you trudge to the kitchen only to a pull stop at Helaena eating a cereal, smugly, while a bouquet of tulips about twenty or so, sits on the counter beside her.

"Holy shit, these are pretty." You finger a pink petal from the collection pink, orange and white tulips. "Which admirer of yours got this for you and would you say he has a hot brother?"

Hel snorts. "That's not for me, dummy. But I do have a pretty good brother who many has said is very pretty and b, an ace boyfriend. When he's not being stupid that is."

"What?" You pluck the card and felt yourself giggle rather than actually make the conscious choice of laughing giddily at an unexpected, pretty present. A smile breaking out from your face, as Helaena observes you over her bowl.

For the lady. Aemy.

"Shit. Your brother really doesn't do apologies half-assed, huh?"

"Apparently not." She places the bowl on the sink, giving you a long, smug look until you look up at her and feel your heart in your throat at the gleam in her blue eyes. "Wanna tell me something?"

"Dunno," you say airily, trying to inhale the floral fumes from farther away than necessary so it isn't so obvious you're totally fucking enamoured with them. Sure they're just flowers. But something about waking up to an unexpected bouquet of the prettiest bunch is sometimes all a girl needs to have a great day. "What do you wanna know?"

"This is a need to know basis, alright?"

"Alright." You hold the bouquet to your chest, unable to stand it any longer, pressing your nose against the fresh, sweet scent as a shield against your best friend's line of inquiry.

"Have you and my brother done the tango?"

"No! Hel, come on! I wouldn't do that to you. Also! That is not part of the plan! I told you I'm not going to fuck the sad out of your brother."

She raises an eyebrow, fighting off a grin in a weird way as she plucks out her bag and starts leaving. "You and 'Aemy' are both adults. I, as her personally also adult big sister, doesn't give a shit."

"Is that permission, are you giving me permission to fuck the sad out of your brother, Helaena Targaryen you sick shit?"

Helaena's cackle leaves much to be desired, and you're much more confused about things.

Gratefully, you have a beautiful bunch of tulips to sweetly assuage you for the time being.

"Your sister's so weird," you say in the next call you have with him. You're on grocery duty for the month, aimlessly roaming around the aisles whilst he's on the go somewhere in school.

"That's your best friend, mind you," he teases.

"I know, I chose her knowing what she's like." You sigh dramatically, picking up most of the cleaning supplies you and Hel need at the apartment. You enjoyed your weekly routines of deep-cleaning, while Helaena, though not a slob, never enjoyed it when she has her little bugs and critters in the room and you would go all military sergeant at her for the waste that some of the bugs need for nutrition.

"What did she do this time?"

"You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

He laughs lightly and you smile at the sound. "Try me, ñuha riña."

He's on a busy street, the backdrop distinct, so he had pulled his mouth close to the phone. The breathless laugh he emitted, alongside the deep vowel-drawl he spoke his usual endearment shot bolts and shivers across your body.

Stupid Helaena and stupid promissory-approved sad fuckings.

"She said, we're both adults."

"I am aware. You're a very well established adult apart from your manic obsessions with oil diffusers and buying my dog so many treats."

"Shut up, they're not for you, they're for my baby Vhagar. And one, you're just jealous you can't pull out a drawer in your house and offer, 'Oh, kind guest sir, what scent you wanna vibe with today?'"

Another laughter bubbles out of him and you're full on grinning by the aisle with rolls of massive tissues around you. You pick a pack and place it on your cart before continuing.

"Anyway, yeah so she said we're both adults, and we're more than okay doing the adult tango." You snort. "Can you believe— Aemond? Hello? Are you okay?" There's a sound of things falling on concrete, an oof and a swear. "If you got hit by a car just as I'm on the phone with you and I'm the last person on your call history when you die and your mother finds out, I am actually going to debone you."

He's laughing against the phone, a pained sound that is honest and full. "Sorry, sorry, I just tripped a-and my laptop fell—"

"—Dude, oh my god?? Wait, why am I concerned, you can probably buy one right at this moment."

"You—" he butts between laughter. "—you're not making it easy to stand up."

You snort. "Well, damn, Aemy, standup. You can worship me someplace softer than concrete." You blink. The silence stretches as you turn redder. "You know what I mean."

". . .I do," he says softly. "I'm upright now. And I already do, you know."

"What?"

"Worship the ground you walk on."

"Oh, well. Helaena's only kidding, I'm sure, with the permission thing," you say lamely.

He hums. "Sure. But those are two separate things."

The rest of the days follow something like that. Both of you get swallowed up by obligations and time presses on like a soldier, but you make time when it presents itself; and it's easy. Almost like he had always been part of your life like this, engaged in the niches, as if he had always just... existed like this.

The orbit is slow but it is patient. It beams and lazily moves.

YOU: EMERGENCY

He calls, voice panicked. "What? What happened? Are you okay?"

"Whoa, calm down, cowboy, it's not an emergency like that," you say, phone wedged between your ear and shoulder, a book open between your hands. "Also seems really weird to text you 'Emergency' if I need something urgently. I mean 111 is easy enough to dial."

He sighs, languid and long suffering. You snort. "I would still like to know if you need me in anyway. Even if you don't."

The sincerity burns and lodges itself deep in your throat. You try for a joke. "Okay, boyfie. Noted. I just wanted to ask about a High Valyrian word. Well two words but I already know the other. I'm at the bookstore trying to find good romance books and I came across this endearment and there's no glossary."

"Oh?" A piqued interest is so obvious in his voice that it makes you laugh. "What?"

"Nothing. Nerd. Alright, it's this— ñuha zaldrīzes. I know ñuha means my because it's my favourite nickname given by my favourite person."

A cocky muse goes out of his mouth unfiltered, "You're favourite person, hm?"

"I came for answers, you sad sack of simp, not judgement. You know what, scratch that, I'm calling Aegon." You're only joking, not even going to remove the phone lodged in your neck, but he panics easily.

"Don't call Aegon. I'm smarter than him."

"Aww, Aemy, are you scared of your big, bad brother?"

He snorts. "Iksan daor zūgagon hen bona doru-borto nuspes. I am not scared of that stupid cow."

Now, you've heard Aemond speak in High Valyrian in increments— his endearment for you the one you know the most — but not in full sentences. But to hear his harsh 'r's, the smooth 'z's and 's' does something to you. You have to remind yourself that you're not just in public, your mouth is also too fucking close to the receiver.

You manage to bat the moan with a barely trembled win.

You don't, however, manage to stop the little squeak in your voice. That surprise little sound that Aemond catches immediately.

He hums, a delightedly dark roll of his throat (how the fuck does someone make that attractive?). There's a certain purr that tilts his voice and whatever the fuck he's saying next, and you barely grasp at thought, much less the intelligence required to make sense of foreign words to you, when he says—

"Gaomagon ao hae skori nyke ȳdragon naejot ao isse Valyrio Eglie, dārilaros? Do you like when I speak to you in High Valyrian, princess?"

You don't know what you say next.

You know they're not words.

If one could truly make sense of what sound you made, it could be called a 'strangled whine totally inappropriate to make in a bookstore and thank god you're the only one in the aisle because holy fuck. Holy fuck'.

And you've never heard Aemond make a laugh so meanly as he does in reply to your strangled— choked— whine, the absolute prat.

"Oh, you absolute whore," you choke out, clearing your throat. "You can't do that, that's illegal. I don't even know what you said!"

"Do you want me to translate?" he teases, and his tone is light again, but there's that tinged. A reminder. A hook. If you want to play more. If it could lead to new things.

You parry instead. "I bet you say that to all the ladies."

"Lady," he reminds. "And Alys... never really responded much. She just asked me to translate."

"Educational purposes, huh?"

He hums in agreement before his voice pitches that way again. A darkened edge to the usual teasing. "But I've always wanted to try it in the bedroom."

If lightning felt like this— a shock shot on the back of your neck, then a bloom of warmth that reaches the tips of your fingers, your hair — then someone call 111 because you just became a statistic.

"Sure," you manage to squeak, trying to shake your head as you pile your arms with books that have Valyrian lords, princes— and ooh, dragonlords, how fantasy — and hoping the sexy scenes have them speaking in the language. "You'll definitely get a woman wanting, Aemy."

He laughs. "Is that jealousy, ñuha riña?"

"No." It really isn't at first, when you said the comment, you just threw it out there. But now the scene is in your head— Aemond whispering filthy things in the language of his ancestors, those hard consonants, that smooth, silky drawl, while he pounds into them — gets you brisk, a flare of anger, and you kinda wanna die because who are you to feel jealous? But the 'No' is brusque, a quick, hard sound, that Aemond catches it like fodder and chuckles.

Fuck, why does he have to laugh so nicely? Why does the mean edge so fucking sexy?

Is this phone sex? This isn't phone sex, you think, bleary and out of your mind, in a hot, hot space and you can't stop yourself. You can end the call and shut it all out, come back when you're a little more levelheaded, but you can't.

"Nyke kivio naejot mērī ȳdragon naejot ao hae bisa, dārilaros, I promise to only speak to you like this, princess." he says against your silence.

"There's that word again. The last one. What is it?"

"Dragon."

You frown. "Dragon?"

"The word you asked about the first time, you've forgotten about it and I never technically answered."

"And you're never telling me this one? You called me a dumbass, didn't you?"

"I most certainly did not. I'll tell you when I meet you soon, I have to go. Geros ilas, dārilaros. Goodbye, princess," he purrs the last part extra saucily just for your poor, poor ears to redden. For your heart to stutter. "Pendagon yno hae nyke va moriot hen ao. Think of me as I always of you."

"You can't do that, Aemy," you say, breathless.

"Do you hate it?"

You close your eyes. "No."

He repeats the word you ask about, one last time before the phone ends.

You still don't know what it means, and that night with your new books, your hand between your thighs and sweat on your skin, you finally find out.

Princess.

Apart from that day, the next few go on as usual. You both are still too busy to see each other, but you keep up with the contact. It's nice. Comfortable even when you're not in that weird, electric moments that spasms the tension. Neither of you really, truly push the boundaries, but you're always tethering at the edges.

A tug, a push and pull, but no one truly shoves.

It's exhausting but neither of you stop

In between, there are odd, utterly smug looks from Helaena that you push away. You see Cregan less, often times it is him seeking you out. Sometimes you go, sometimes you don't. Sometimes, there are pleasures only your imagination could give but want for more. To be actually realised. But you've never done roleplaying with Cregan, and it feels wrong to be intimate with somebody when another person's face and body fills your head, whispering words only he could say that would have you shuddering into an orgasm to replicate with your own fingers.

The world moves. It breathes, and you exhale with it.

Until three days before the weekend and you receive a text.

AEMY: Family lunch on Sunday. Would you like to go as my date?

YOU: im hel's date already

He calls.

"Helaena is still at work and mom just sent the message at the family group chat two minutes ago. She hasn't even viewed the message. How are you already her date?"

You laugh, topping off your lipstick smudge with a pinky on the edge. "Well hello to you too, what a fine evening we're having."

"Good evening, you can't be Helaena's date. I asked you first. I am asking you first."

"One, you're not actually asking me, at least, not again, and two, it's a best friend thing. A prerequisite thing."

"Well. I'm asking beyond the prerequisite. Will you please go to Sunday dinner with my family with me?"

"Okay." You laugh together at how fast you agree. "Wouldn't it be weird?"

"We're fake dating, love, it's all part of the plan, right? I've brought Alys to family dinners before, this is just one of those."

And it jolts you when you know it shouldn't. He says it playfully, all part of the fun. You don't know why you're so disappointed, well you do, but it isn't like you had any, actual right to be.

And love. You know Aemond calls Alys that when they dated.

And it irks you, you don't know why, and suddenly, you just don't want to be in this call. You close off your lipstick, pursing your lips. He calls your name when you don't reply too fast.

"You still there?"

"Yeah, just... are you sure we should be telling your family we're dating?"

"Why not? You already come for every Sunday dinner, you're just coming with me instead of Hel," he says. "It will be just like any other Sunday."

Something about that pisses you off and saddens you at the same time.

"Sure," you say brightly, fakely. "Gotta go though, I'm meeting up with someone, text me the details, okay?"

"Meeting up?"

You can't help it, the astonishment in his tongue irks. "I have more friends than you and Hel, Aemy, I'm not a recluse."

"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry."

You control your exhale. "I'm sorry for snapping at you, that was mean. Yeah. Cregan Stark, I think I told you about him from before?"

"You're still meeting him?"

"You know about that?"

"Hel said something. I didn't know you were still meeting him."

"Well... I'm not a virgin, Aemy, and it's not like we're real, remember?"

"Right." His agreement is sharp. Halting. "Have fun then."

Before you reply, the call ends.

"Well. Okay. Dick." You shrug. Aemond has a temper, that's nothing new. But it's not like you're doing something wrong, and you're still at that weird, heated headspace that put your thoughts in a whirlwind of a turmoil, so you can't try and fix this with him right now.

Plus, Cregan was offering a good dick without complications. Who are you to say no?

CREGAN: ill pick u up babygirl dw💜😍😘

TAGGED: @snowprincesa1 @gemini-mama @fan-goddess @snh96 @valeskafics @opheliaas-stuff @tempo-rary-fix @fantasticpeaceharmony @diannnnsss @iamavailablesstuff @spinachtz @at-a-rax-ia @bespinnn @tsujifreya @moonlightfoxx @kemillyfreitas @joyouart @bananzaa @honey-on-mars @alexa4040 @cinnamonbambii @wintrr13 @wxb-slingrr @astroswift @queenofshinigamis @helaenaluvr @kaetastic @jxdegodfrey @laniii-on-your-left @watercolorskyy @microwaveallthedemons @kazuyatokue @herfantasyworldd @averyyreads @urmomsgirlfriend1 @bellstwd @jiminie-08 @ttkttt @nockerin

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velvetlilacsdaisies · 10 months ago

Text

Shit at Feelings iii

Bodhi Durran x fem!reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: SPOILERS!! Swearing, drinking, trauma, probably not proofread well lmaooo, lmk if I missed anything

A/n: Part 3 weeeeeee! I hope you all enjoy! Couldn’t pass up on some more platonic banter between the crew. I have stuff cooking for part 4 👹👹

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You felt helpless, a pang of terror struck through you as three wyvern ganged up on Cleasaí and you. Though she was one of the most menacing and cunning of the Greens, every maneuver she tried to pull it seemed the wyvern knew. You were easily becoming burnt out of your power, astral projecting, never projecting the lengths you have until today to trick your opponents. Now you were about to be cornered.

“I have to try one more time,” you heaved heavily down the bond to Cleasaí. “Just to change our position.”

“You can’t,” she growled, quickly banking right past a sharp cliff side, her tail catching the earth and flinging it back at green fire wyverns. “You will drain yourself and die. I will not lose my human already.” The move proved to be useless for the wyverns just merely flinching at the rocks.

Violet was taking on two wyvern herself with the help of Xaden, and you lost sight of Bodhi, Imogen, and Soleil. You were on your own for this one.

“If I don’t try, not only am I dead, but you will be too.” You argued. “I need eyes on the rider.” Your skin was so hot, and a migraine was already wreaking havoc in your skull. But you would not let Cleasaí die, the creature that mercifully bonded with you and saw potential when you felt like no other did.

“Are you sure about this?” You could tell she was feeling the defeat you were plagued with. You straightened your shoulders, adjusting your goggles.

“No, but there’s no other way.” You held on tight to the ridge of her back as she darted up into the cloud coverage.

“Project the clouds, until we get sight on the one with a rider.” She ordered. You steadied your breathing, mentally grounding yourself in the art studio of your childhood home, letting her power take over within you. Before you can let out the last bit of energy, you’re jerked down.

“Cleasaí!” You screamed out loud. Her back claw is in the mouth of a wyvern and you can see her blood dripping. Another wyvern slammed into her side, throwing her into a cliff side. You jolted from your sitting position, trying to hang on for dear life, but ultimately sliding off into the sharp cliff side as well. The sting of gravel loitering in your hip and side as the festering migraine throbbed in your ears, and your vision gets spotty.

“Y/n!” A voice shouted, and you couldn’t tell if it was Xaden or Bodhi. Everything had started going in and out and black stars were hazing your vision.

Lightning strikes in the near distance, and the wyvern that slammed your dragon into the cliff goes down, but the one that has your dragon’s claw in a firm grip in its mouth still stands. You just wanted the wyvern off of Cleasaí as you hung on the prominent ridge on her back, keeping a leg hiked onto her the best you could.

You caught a glance of her kicking her claw out the wyvern’s grasp as her tail whips at it, repeatedly striking the head of the beast to no avail. The reverberating pain settles in your body making you release a blood curdling scream, Cleasaí roared with you as you mentally open the remaining bits of power you can access. The sound projected through the cliffs of Resson, no doubt alerting all your friends in radius.

The last thing you see is the wyvern’s jaw being forced open off Cleasaí’s claw by a phantom wind and wave of green taking the wyvern down before passing out.

༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻

The scene on the paper was murky, much different than the precise nearly perfect sketch of Bodhi you had drawn the other day. The parchment smeared with charcoal and graphite with little ebbings of scenery with ink to depict the lightning and rocky mountain sides in Resson. The feeling of the rock shards embedded in your body is what woke you up this morning. You had been having the same nightmare every night. Of the same scene at Resson with different endings: one night it had been you that died, the venin scaling on to Cleasaí and not only draining the entirety of you, but her as well. The next night it was Bodhi who had died, he was in your position and all you could do was watch, paralyzed in place on your dragon.

You had ignored the knock of Imogen this morning to go on your daily run, listening to her curse and rattling your door trying to pick the lock. Quinn had taught you a lesser magic to keep your door locked yesterday after lunch, and it proved fruitful thus far. Imogen had tried for three minutes before accepting you weren’t up, and walking away, leaving you to go back to restlessly sketching in your book until you made your way down to the mess hall.

You were one of the first in the hall this morning, still working on your drawing while idly eating your breakfast. Preferring the solace of being alone and your haunting thoughts at the table that your wing would be filling up fast in the next forty minutes or so. With most of the cadets partying the last three days, no one was eager to get to breakfast right away. Leaving some extra quiet time in the mornings.

“Interesting drawing,” someone said from behind you. You jumped, abruptly shutting the book. “Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you.” You turned to see Violet tugging on her lip, brows furrowed.

You sighed, mustering a smile and thanking the gods it had only been her nonetheless. It would’ve been hard to explain why there was a wyvern on the page you were working on to anyone else. “Hey Violet,” you greeted, stifling a yawn as she walked around to sit across from you.

You noticed small dark circles formed under her eyes. You wondered if she had difficulty sleeping like you? You knew she had been struggling more than everyone else since returning from Resson. Feeling guilty you haven’t checked in on her much since your return, you watched her as she peeled an orange uninterestedly.

“How are you?” The question caught her off guard, when you spoke up, cutting the awkward tension like a knife. Faltering her movement in peeling.

“I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” She had a strained smile on her lips. Her voice goes up an octave into an almost overly sweet tone.

“You don’t have to lie, I hope you know.” You looked at her earnestly, choosing your next words carefully. “Liam was a great man, always was. And I can’t imagine with everything else you know now, it can’t be easy.”

“I don't know how to go on like everything’s normal.” She quickly said, looking around to see if anyone’s paying attention before turning back to you. “Everyone’s partying expecting school to go on, and with what I know now—“

You grabbed on to her slightly trembling hand, surprising not only her but yourself. “You don’t have to continue that sentence. I’m sorry I brought it up.” You paused momentarily. “We had to do the same after the executions, our foster families threw us into training and academics. Aristocratic parties and bullshit, it felt all so cruel and surreal when we all knew what had been happening.” Then it was her hand that topped yours to stop your rambling.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a watery gaze in her eyes.

You pulled your hand away, “it’s been six years, it’s been easier to become desensitized about it.” You went back to playing with the porridge in your bowl and her to peeling her orange meticulously.

“That picture,” The silver haired girl started. “Was that of Resson?”

You nodded, “drawing helps me sort whatever’s going on up there.” You pointed to the side of your temple.

“I've never seen you with it before.” Nothing gets past a Sorrengail does it?

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot going on up there that I can’t sort out with a morning run, contrary to Imogen.” You grumbled the last part. That’s the excuse that she had given you when she dragged you out of bed yesterday after picking your lock again. When in reality she just egged you on for more information about what happened with Bodhi.

“Is that why I didn’t see you running with her earlier?” A hint of amusement sparkled in her blue grey eyes. You wondered when she saw you because you hadn’t seen any trace of her the prior mornings.

You shook your head, “She just wants an excuse to gossip.”

“About you and Bodhi?” A smirk grew wickedly on her lips. You tried to keep a poker face, but she had let a real smile break on her face. “Sorry, Xaden and I saw you two sneaking out the courtyard a couple nights ago. He filled me in on your complex… relationship?” She tested the last word out to see how you would react.

You flushed bright red, no longer letting your face stay neutral. This girl observed everything. Huffing out a breath of air, you weren’t surprised Xaden knew. But you were surprised he kept it to himself around you. Him and Garrick often loved to tease the shit for anything they could, just to get you upset. Seeing as Garrick was who you grew up with for a better half of your life those two were the closest things you’ve had to brothers.

“If it makes you feel better, it seems complex relationships run in the family.” She reassured meekly.

Your refrained from displaying your shock, you had figured Violet and Xaden’s relationship went much deeper than a bonded pair of dragons and his duty to General Sorrengail, but to actually hear it. This was the most exciting thing you heard about his love life since he broke his betrothal with Catriona. You liked Violet a lot more, but you wouldn’t admit that out loud quite yet.

You decided to entertain the conversation more, if she had caught you red handed there was no point in going around the topic. “I think the only one making it difficult is me.” You admitted frowning, wishing that it could be that easy of an explanation as she said.

It wasn’t even a relationship, only a friendship, and it just seemed Bodhi was a masochist at this point. You wielding all the power and torture making it harder than it needed to be.

“Liking complex women runs in the family then?” She offered. Gods could she be any more down to the earth? Soon enough your icy resolve will be melted around her and you would have to kick Riorson’s ass if he hurt her. And then that’s ultimately another person on your list to care about.

“I don’t even think I could classify it as him liking me either—”

“Like I said: complex.” She popped an orange slice into her mouth.

“I-I can’t argue with that.” You sighed.

“Xaden said you liked arguing if you had talked to me.” She said in a matter of fact tone. This was a stark contrast to a year ago when Sorrengail first made an appearance into everyone’s lives.

Before you could even say anything, Ridoc’s laugh bellowed into the mess hall. Turning you saw him trail in with Sawyer, Rhiannon, and Nadine. The purple haired girl is now notably wearing a sling. Did you even want to know?

“So much for peace and quiet.” You muttered under your breath, earning a laugh from the girl across from you.

“Since when have you two started taking meals together?” Rihannon teased, but you didn’t miss the look of apprehension she gave the both of you.

Violet went back to picking at the orange peel on her plate, avoiding her friend's eyes.

“That’s what surviving a Gryphon attack does? Bring two unlikely people together right?” Lightly kicking her under the table when she was still staring at her scraps.

She immediately started nodding looking at the group. “Yeah, exactly?” She gave you a look. You wanted to facepalm yourself, she did not do well at being discreet.

You brushed her off and smiled, “besides we’re all second years now, and I haven’t been the most warm? Charismatic?”

Ridoc snorted, “you do a hell of a job at being charismatic when you’re drinking.” You didn’t miss how he took a seat next to Violet though the empty spot next to you was closer. He had been creating as much distance as he could since the other night with you, which was a shame. You liked riling him up.

Rihannon rolled her eyes, taking the empty place next to you. “You’re not wrong, this is the most you have spoken to us ever.”

“I like that there’s another person to add to the conversation.” Nadine added diving into her porridge.

“You just like the idea there’s four ladies versus just me and Ridoc.” You could barely make out what Sawyer said through a mouthful of egg.

“Solidarity versus your two’s dumb ideas.” Rihannon laughed.

“Are you still on about us wanting to sneak out to Chantara tonight?” Ridoc said exasperated. Chantara? They were talking about the town the first night when you were drinking with them. It was banned for the rider’s quadrant to go there, but cadets still did it anyway. You weren’t sure if it was a good idea, especially if you or Violet sneaked away. You two were already on close watch with Varrish around, and you could already hear Xaden yelling at you if you encouraged his little girlfriend to do something that could put more of a target on her back.

“Second year hasn’t even started and you already want to break out! How can I be okay with that as squad leader?” Rihannon hissed.

“Could you be any louder about it?” Imogen interrupted, walking up to the group, and setting her tray down on the table. You gave her a bewildered look. She was in on this?

Bodhi, who had also walked up with your best friend, gave Ridoc an annoyed expression as he sat diagonally across from you. “You never know who’s listening to us.” You then looked at him with the same expression, him too? After just barely making it through graduation?

He merely just raised an eyebrow in your direction, that stupid lazy smirk lingering on his full lips whenever you were around him now. Like he always knew something you didn’t.

“Would you two be in?” Ridoc asked, whispering.

Violet line of vision flitting from each one of her friends back to you.

“Please, please agree.” Sawyer begged. “That will give these two no choice but to agree.” He gestured to the girls next to you.

“Y/n’s not going to agree.” Bodhi chuckled. “She doesn’t like breaking rules.” His tone was smug, causing heat to rush to your face.

You whipped your head towards him, sending him a pointed glare. “Who says?”

The table got quiet, anticipating what was about to happen. “You, you never liked to sneak out your Mistresses house with the rest of us to the fields at night when we were younger.” The curly dark haired man reminisced on your younger days in Aretia.

“Or skip lessons with me.” Imogen added quietly. “Or leave the balls or those important dinners early.” Her head slightly tilted thinking of all the other times you’d refused to join your friends because you were too nervous.

“You know how strict my foster parents were.” You argued.

Bodhi let out a hearty sarcastic, “Ha!”

Your pink haired friend gave a side eye, “you lived with Garrick, who snuck out allll the time.”

“Well, that’s Garrick. I was held to a different standard.” You huffed, crossing your arms across your chest. You weren’t wrong. If it weren’t for the promise of being enrolled into the rider’s quadrant, you would have been held to the standard of an Aretian aristocratic lady once you were 18. Only then you had the capability to do what you wanted with your friends in between war strategy and training.

“How bad can it be going for a couple hours, no one will notice right?” Violet interrupted, looking at you. Did no one see the harm in this idea? Think this through? It is obvious leadership is already suspicious of what happened in Resson.

The man diagonal from you had a ‘told you so’ expression. That only made you more irritated, what was he trying to prove? More importantly, what were you trying to prove as you opened your mouth?

“Fine I’ll go,” you announced. “The minute though—and I mean it—the minute something goes wrong I am returning with or without any of you.” Cheers rang through the table. Ridoc and Sawyer rubbing it in Rihannon and Nadine’s faces that they had to come now. Bodhi scowled now. You had actually agreed, and that pang of irritation turned to satisfaction and you offered a smirk to the look of disdain.

“That’s that, we’ll meet in the west alcove after curfew.” Imogen stated hesitatingly, looking in your direction also warily. This is what they wanted so now why were they both so apprehensive you agreed?

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“I didn’t actually think you would agree?” Imogen fixed your shirt—well her shirt. If that’s what you could call it?

You wore a black corset tank top, and a cropped hooded sweater connected that only covered your arms. The sleeves covering a majority of your rebellion relics, only the parts that scattered either side of collarbones displayed. The corset tank top covering the top of your dragon relic, Cleasaí’s clubtail peeking out from the bottom. Paired with your training leather pants and boots.

“I don’t know why I agreed either now.” You fidgeted with the ties of the corset. “What if we get in trouble?”

“We won’t,” she turned you to face the mirror in the corner of her room. “This has been happening for years now and no one has batted an eye.”

“But Varrish is around now.”

“Varrish can kiss my ass, this is tradition for the second and third years. A rite of passage you can say.” The pink haired girl retorted. “It’s going to be fun, Y/n. I promise.”

You only casted a sideways glance her way, and with a roll of her eyes she stood behind you grabbing your shoulders.

“Look how good you look too, I forgot what you look like out of uniform.” She grinned cheekily, prompting you to roll your eyes now.

She had lined your top eyelids with kohl that winged out on the edges, along with adding some to your lashes, and applied some lip oil to your lips. You had to admit you did look good, and sometimes missed getting dressed up like you had done all the time in Aretia.

“How’d you manage to get all of this stuff in here anyway?” You changed the subject, looking to your left at her overflowing armoire of regular clothes. Most of it consisted of black, white, and grey, but a few tones of greens and blues popped out as well.

“Supply runs, do you think I’d be in my normal training clothes going to the pubs?” Fair enough, Imogen always had a penchant to be the center of attention. Never shying away from looks, and a chance to fuel her ego; the complete opposite of you.

A knock on the door sounded before Quinn popped her head into the room, and you could see the colorful top she chose to wear from the armoire. “You two ready? The girl’s are waiting at the stairwell.”

“Be there in a minute,” your best friend said. Quinn only nodded, closing the door behind her as she left you two alone.

“She doesn’t question where you get all this stuff?” You asked.

“Why ask when it benefits her?” She shrugged. Fair point too.

“What are you going to do with it all when you graduate?”

She grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the door. “You ask too many questions, Y/l/n.”

༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻

The tavern was in full swing at max capacity filled with Basigiath students and civilians. The majority of the students were Healers and infantry mainly, a few scribes littered amongst the crowd along with some other riders that had snuck out as well were scattered in the crowd. A live band played on a small stage in the back of the establishment. people dancing in the spaces that weren’t occupied by standing patrons to the sound of mandolins, drums, lyres, and guitars. The warm summer breeze wafting through the doors and windows not doing much to evade the heat in the room.

You had been to taverns and music halls back in Aretia, but this was insane.

“Over here!” Ridoc called excitedly to your group. Him, Bodhi, and Sawyer had left earlier to save a seat for the group. They sat at a circular booth nestled in the corner of the tavern giving enough room for the group.

“This is crazy!” Rihannon shouted over the loud music and talking as Ridoc got up to give her a huge hug in greeting.

“It’s great right?!” Sawyer grinned broadly sitting at the furthest part of the booth.

“Absolutely insane!” Nadine agreed, as Ridoc wrapped his arms around her and Violet.

“Wow, does Basigiath provide those clothes?” Ridoc asked, looking at the group of you girls. Imogen had let the other girls borrow something for the night as well, begrudgingly deciding to not let them feel left out.

“No, you idiot. There are more things to do than just drink in Chantara like shop.” Imogen flicked him as he tried to greet her with a hug. “How much have you given these fools to drink, Boh?” She looked over at the man who casually leaned against the booth, nursing a glass of amber liquid.

“‘Thank you Bodhi for reserving a booth.’ Oh you’re welcome Immy.” Bodhi replied sarcastically not looking at her.

No, his eyes were on you. Making you subconscious of what you looked like under the dim tavern lights and how his brown eyes drank you in. It felt like he took an eternity within seconds scanning every part of you before he met your gaze. His usually warm brown irises were darkened, and a look you couldn’t distinguish lay behind them. He then broke eye contact only when Ridoc came up to you, unsure to give you a hug. He finally looked at the pink haired woman as you just held up your hand for a high five from Ridoc who beamed at the idea.

“Besides, I'm not their babysitter.” Bodhi added.

“But now we have to catch up!” Quinn shouted teasingly. “I got the first round of shots!” She took Imogen’s and Rihannon’s hands, dragging them to the bar.

“Come sit,” Sawyer urged the rest of you to sit. Nadine and Ridoc slid in to the right of Sawyer, and Violet took the other side. You slide in next to her, and Bodhi takes a seat by you. Great.

“You might have overdressed, don’t you think?” Bodhi’s breath caressed your ear as he whispered. Even sitting, he was so much taller, having to crane his neck down to speak to you. The smell of his usual cedar, patchouli and musk filled your nose along with the scent of smoky churam filled your nose. He started to trace the skin along the sleeve of your sweater, despite the heat, you could feel goosebumps rise on your arms. Your stomach flipped in waves of butterflies at the small gesture.

You kept your eyes on the empty part of the booth across from you. “Says the one wearing their flight jacket.”

“Sorry I don’t have an armoire of clothes at my disposal like Imogen.” He still kept tracing your wrist softly. The sensation was driving you crazy.

“Maybe you should start smuggling clothes in, instead of churam?” Sarcasm dripped from your tongue.

“Maybe,” he chuckled. “But churam is way more fun. And you know what would make it funner?”

“What is that?” You hummed, finally meeting his gaze. His stare had you frozen in place from how intently he looked at you, and your throat ran dry.

“If you joined me.” He murmured.

Your skin was warm from where his fingers were, and your cheeks were hot. Hoping the blush wasn’t noticeable, clearing your throat as you inhaled deeply through your nose remembering how to breathe. You hated what he did to you, and this had been the very reason you always tried to avoid him.

You pulled your hand away into your lap. “Funner’s not a word, Durran.”

He cracked a meek smile, pulling away from you. “Right.”

The girls returned with a tray of shots and drinks in their hands for everyone.

“Don’t say I haven’t ever done anything for you.” Imogen declared, passing the drinks around.

You straightened your back, trying to brush off the ignition of warmth that was still within you. Imogen had a smug look on her face when she handed you your drink and shot. You just subtly scratched your cheek with your middle finger at her.

“Welcome to your first night in Chantara newbs!” Quinn proclaimed, raising her shot glass. Everyone followed suit, providing excited celebratory ‘cheers’ and shouts as the clinks of the glasses rang out.

The clear liquid burned your throat when you knocked it back making you wince, the warmth spreading through your body instantly. Grimaces mirrored your expression from around the table, Ridoc downright making a disgusted face and noise causing a laugh to escape Violet’s lip and the remark of ‘pansy’ under Bodhi’s breath, but he too had a cringe on his lips as well.

The man you knew merely only a few years ago would have never made a face taking a measly shot.

“Lost your touch, I see.” You leaned over, your eyes full of amusement watching him take a big chug of the amber liquid finishing the glass.

He wiped the edge of his mouth with his thumb, his brows furrowed. “Me lose my touch? Y/l/n I think you have me mistaken.”

“Mm, I don’t think so.” You challenged him as you brought your own drink to your glossed lips. You could have sworn you caught him glance down as you took a sip, but his eyes were back on your own. You willed the shudder that wanted to escape you away, and the flip of your stomach at bay.

“Find me at the end of the night after you have had a few, then we’ll see who’s lost their touch. I finally get to see the real Y/n Y/l/n in action now that you don’t have to run back to foster mommy and daddy at midnight.” He taunted quietly, before standing up. “Immy you owe me a rematch of billiards from the last time.”

“So eager to get your ass beat?” She cracked her knuckles jokingly. “Anyone else want to join?” She looked towards mainly the guys.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Sawyer and Ridoc stood to join the two.

“I hope you two have some coins to spare, it adds to the friendly competition!” Quinn added cheerily.

“Well you ladies know where to find us.” Imogen called over her shoulder, and Ridoc tipped his head as if he had an imaginary hat on his head following the smaller group that retreated to the billiards tables on the other side of the tavern.

Fuck Bodhi and his nonchalantness, was all you could think as you glared at his back walking away from the table.

༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻ ༺☆༻

Feedback is always appreciated! Along with likes and reblogs 💞💖✨ lmk if you would want to be added to the taglist!

Taglist: @ablev92

#bodhi durran x reader #bodhi durran #bodhi fourth wing #dain aetos x reader #emperyeon series #fourth wing fanfic #iron flame #iron flame fic #bodhi durran fanfic #fourth wing bodhi #bodhidurran #Bodhi durran fanfiction #Bodhi durran imagine #Bodhi durran series #shit at feelings fic

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bigboysfalldeep · 1 year ago

Text

the nick jonas experience - posession

I always had one rule: never target a celebrity.

It's just way too risky; there is simply no way to just vanish and start a new life inside a new body. Still, one young man always tickled my fancy: Nick Jonas.

I contemplated for months: was taking over his beautiful body worth the risk? My decision was taken from me when he announced a concert very close to me, a couple of hours by car, and instantly my mind was set on my newest target. I bought a ticket and spent the coming months obsessing over him more and more. I loved the way he kept teasing his fans by acting all cocky, geared up in leather, and showing off his well-formed body.

During the two-hour drive, I kept going through the coming operation. I would wait, enjoy his music, and once he's done, exhausted, happy—whatever he would be, I'd strike.

When he entered the stage, I couldn't believe my eyes. Nick was wearing a tight green leather tracksuit, showing off his thick bulge for everyone to see, and I couldn't turn back now, not after my dick grew so hard inside my jeans.

Once the concert slowly came to an end, I made my way toward my car, just to leave my old vessel behind—it wasn't a bad body, but nothing compared to the heart throb that is Nick Jonas.

After years of doing this, it was the easiest thing to do. I focused all of my being on leaving the fleshy husk behind. I can't simply take over anyone's body. Part of their soul, their consciousness, stays behind—locked away, chained, simply unable to move, think, or fight back. The guy might be able to take his body back, but why would I care?

As an astral being, I was able to ascend into the sky, watching all those thousands of people leave the stadium. Nick should be in his private quarters right now, and with a little luck, I might be able to strike.

Nobody could see me; some could feel my presence, however, when a cold shower ran down their backs, their arms, or their legs. There were so many potential new hosts, but I wasn't letting anything sway my mind when I had come thus far.

I made my way through the hallways, thin corridors, and wide open spaces when I finally picked up a trace. I spotted a few security guys and decided to follow them, and sure enough, they brought me right toward Nick's door.

I licked my nonexistent lips in anticipation, reading his name printed on the door: Nick Jonas.

However, walls, doors, and concrete didn't mean anything to me right then. I entered the room, and there he was: Nick, in person.

He was sitting in a chair talking to a few people, chatting happily about the successful concert. The closer I got, the more I had to control my urge to jump him, force myself into his fleshy self, and take him right in front of all of these people. 'Patience,' I thought, but I couldn't help myself and approached him nonetheless.

"Just give me a few more minutes, alright?" Nick said in a husky voice—probably due to him performing for hours now. His team nodded, and one by one, they left while I was hovering in front of him, just inches away from his face.

Nick was stunning: sweaty, thick, and, most importantly, handsome. I hesitated; this was the last chance to stop, to admire him now, but to leave him and find any other hot guy to take over.

But then he turned his face and let out a long, guttural sigh. My entire being was shacking, and if I had a body right there, I would have wet myself.

Nick grabbed his phone and started to text someone, but that didn't bother me. I swirled around his body—I learned that the back is the easiest way to enter someone else's body—and placed a hand on his shoulder.

His body shuddered once; even through his leather jacket, he must have felt the cold embrace of my presence. Bewildered, he quickly got up and turned around.

"Hello?" Nick said his voice was rough and husky. "Somebody here?"

I just grinned and placed my hand on his neck. Making contact with a warm human body always shocked the target; it wasn't natural to be touched like that.

Nick opened his mouth to say something, but he froze. His body grew hard and stiff; all of him was tensing more and more. Gently, I drew a line from his neck down to the small of his back, following his spine, and even though I wasn't touching his bare skin, he opened his mouth and let out a low growl. It's to prepare his body for my entrance; think of it like unzipping a costume—a fleshy meat suit.

The muscles on his back relaxed barely, while the rest of him got even harder. I enjoyed this moment any time I took over a new body. The simple blissful joy and anticipation of entering a new host always made my entire being vibrate.

Using both of my hands, I reached out, touched him, felt him, and watched the tips of my fingers vanish inside his back. Right then, his body reacted by bending his back as waves of pain and pleasure flooded his being.

"Fuuuck." Nick moaned breathlessly as my hands and arms sank into him. It felt so good, causing my form to pulsate vibrantly. I used all of my strength to stay invisible, but the pleasure running through me made it so hard, yet I couldn't let him see me, not now.

Nick managed to turn himself around, probably aware of something happening. He stumbled toward a huge mirror on the wall, pushed the chair out of the way, and steadied himself against a small table.

I was clinging on to him, enjoying his attempt to figure out what was happening. He looked into the mirror and ran a hand across his neck, his face, and through his sweaty hair. This meant, however, that I was able to look at his reflection as well. His eyes looked a little foggy already, telling me that he was a very suitable pick.

Slowly, carefully, I pushed deeper inside of him—a sensational feeling—as all of me started humming. I hold back a deep moan, but he, on the other hand, is unable to do the same, and a fierce grunt escapes his lips.

Shaking his head, he tried to shake this feeling—me—off, but I wasn't letting him leave now. My arms were sliding into his sleeves, filling his entire chest with my blissful humming and vibrating self, causing him to let out more low grunts and groans.

"What is happening to me?" Nick's entire body went stiff, and all of him tensed harsher than ever before. My slim form wasn't filling his upper body fully, so I needed to enlarge myself a little bit, putting even more pressure on his body and, more importantly, on his mind. I needed him exhausted, so he wouldn't be able to fight back.

Just then, my fingertips reached his own, and I was able to get a hold of them. I was shaking when I first moved his fingers, his hands, and his arms—just an overwhelming feeling for the both of us. I could see the confusion spreading across his face when I started to stroke him, his neck, and his firm chest.

It felt so good—running my fingers across his skin, along his jawline, and further down to his chest. Feeling my fingertips brush over his leather jacket made me vibrate even firmer. At the same time, I tried to calm him down a little to soothe his mind.

Still shaking his head, he tried to regain composure and control, but I wasn't letting him do that, was I? The more I stroked him, the more his muscles bulged. His arms were so thick already, and once his biceps started to bulge even harder, his bulky form tested the limits of his clothes.

Still, I pushed even further and stepped inside him. Right then, he let out another breathless yet deep moan, and I was forced to steady ourselves against the table again. A gigantic smirk spreads across my lips when I feel his body vibrating and tingling due to my moving inside him.

Nick's breathing quickened rapidly; all of that pleasure and pressure were taking a toll on him already. But I knew he was able to withstand and overcome.

I felt all of him reacting to me invading his body: his entire chest was hard as a rock, his arms bulged firmly, and so did his thighs and calves. Like putting on thick leather boots, I slid down his legs and right into his feet. In response, Nick leaned his head back, groaning audibly.

Now, I was able to get a firm stance, so I was able to move my hands freely, but part of him was clinging on to his form. Together, we moved our hands across his chest, and again and again, we kept stroking him.

With a firm thrust, I pushed my hips into him, like I was fucking him from behind. Nick winced once, and I felt his cock growing bigger now. He was so large and so hard that his member was visibly tenting inside his tight leather pants. I knew he felt it too, because right away, he grabbed himself firmly, rubbing the palm of his hand across his thick dick.

"Fuck, this feels good." He groaned under his breath as more waves of pleasure flooded his system. To make it even more enjoyable, I thrusted against his hand once, then twice—he shouldn't miss out on this sensational experience.

Nick purred happily as we kept stroking his dick and chest at the same time, but I wasn't done yet. After I took a deep breath, I moved my head into the back of his, the first attempt to merge ourselves, or more precisely, to take over his body completely.

Instantly, he froze again as our minds began to intertwine. I felt all he felt: he's scared, confused, yet aroused and somewhat excited. Nick didn't know what was happening, and I liked it that way.

As his thoughts became my thoughts, his body reacted again: he started drooling heavily, his eyes lost focus, and they turned vacant, slowly yet steadily. A soft groan escaped his wet lips as his mind got overwhelmed.

In a last, futile attempt to regain power, he closed his eyes, fighting back. His head dropped down, his chin on his chest, as he tried to locate me to remove the parasite inside his head—a cute attempt, but an attempt in vain.

I felt my form spread even further through his body; all he felt was a heavy, tingling sensation—a warmth filling his entire being. Knowing this feeling all too well, I moaned, filling his mind with even more images of pure pleasure.

Nick was powerless, and to make him give in, I put even more pleasure and pressure on him. As I got full control over his arms, I began to stroke him again, just like he had before. Invading his mind revealed all of his most sensitive spots, so I played him like a fiddle. I stroked him hard through his leather clothes.

I knew he was into leather, seeing him wearing all sorts of leather jackets and pants, as he knew how good he looked in those. It was easy for me to take advantage of that, as the simple feeling of leather on his skin made all of him hard.

"Who are you?" He thought, feeling my presence finally. But I didn't kiss and tell; instead, I grabbed his dick again. Nick was already leaking, staining his boxers with his precious cum, much to my enjoyment.

Then I got control over his legs and took a firm stand. It wasn't unusual for hosts to cave in during a takeover, but I've gotten used to it by now.

We moaned in unison as I began to thrust again and again, right against the palm of our hand, while I used the other to stroke our chest. It felt so good to use his voice; I instantly leaked even harder, feeling the steaming liquid press against my skin.

Nick enjoyed this just as much as I do, but somehow he didn't want to give in to me.

"Pleasee." He begged, but I made a sly smirk spread across his lips instead. I rubbed our hand across our dick again and again, encouraging it to leak more and more.

We started to grind together, moaning together, when our heart accelerated rapidly. Our entire being bulged so hard because all of our muscles grew so much bigger, and all we could think of was to cum.

I kept edging him on, but I was in control, and he didn't release himself; instead, I let the pressure build up.

As I finally overlayed my mind with his, I felt him panicking. "Whatt?" We moaned—the most exciting feeling for me—but Nick was torn between pain and pleasure.

With one more heavy thrust, I simply overtook his mind. To feel my form encompass another, not join him but be him, was the most sensual feeling I knew. That was the first time I came as Nick Jonas, staining his underwear and leather pants with my hot cum. One load after another, I let go of my old self and became him at once.

We started to drool heavily as I chained him, gagged him, and locked him away. Our eyes were unfocused and partly rolled back into our skull. Swaying slightly, I took control over his now vacant body.

His fingers, hands, arms, and shoudlers became mine, causing his muscles to nearly tear apart as they adjusted to me even more. I grew bigger as his skin now covered me perfectly.

I filled his chest, his stomach, and his thighs, and I grew larger as well, regaining my composure. Finally, his legs became mine, and I stopped swaying instantly.

I opened my eyes, looking at my beautiful reflection. Smirking, I took a step closer, one hand still at my wet crotch, the other noew tracing my firm jawline.

"This felt so good." I used his handsome voice—my voice—for the first time, causing my dick to pulsate again, shooting another dry load. I ran a hand through my sweaty hair and licked my lips. It felt so good to finally be him; I couldn't stop smirking the whole time.

I took a long and close look at my reflection. I had only seen Nick in videos or photos, but I never imagined seeing him for real, let alone being him one day. I couldn't stop my dick from twitching. I loved this so much.

"Fuuck." I moaned; hearing his beautiful voice echo through me made me grow harder again. I had been running dry for a while now, but it just felt too good. I gave in to my desire and encompassed all of my upper body.

I closed my eyes for a moment and felt the core of me hum again. I never felt so good.

Subconsciously, I kept on stroking my dick and my chest, enjoining the feeling of leather again. I looked so hot in this body, and I didn't care for the risks.

"This body is perfect." I purred and opened my eyes, unable to resist the urge to touch myself again.

As I took a deep breath, I smelled me for the first time, and in response, I let out another long guttural moan—a mixture of sweat—and his cologne invaded my nostrils, a smell I would grow to love so much.

I didn't catch myself tracing the outlines of my cock again, but I enjoyed it nonetheless. If it were for me, I would have masturbated there at least a dozen more times. I felt my new body craving so much more, yet I had to play it cool.

No one can know.

#tf story #male body switch #male body swap #male tf #male possession #male body possession #celebrity tf #celeb tf #male meat suit #male merge

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kentocidal · 1 year ago

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messy

uploading file messy.txt . . . upload complete !

users: welt // jing yuan // gepard // blade x afab!reader

warning ! this file has been corrupted with the following malware: finishing in panties, edging, sub!gepard, exhibitionism, piv, pussyjob, ask to tag

internal message: uhhh. haha. im blaming qi for this (he enables me. im kissing them). also ... happy 300 followers !

new notification ! @kaedescara @yaekiss (want to be added? send me an ask off anon!)

welt – he’s got you cornered against a wall in a back car on the astral express. he’s panting against your ear as he strokes his length and rubs the tip of his cock against your folds, catching on your hole and making you squirm. you had been begging him to just put it in already, please, it’ll feel so good, but he wouldn’t relent. it was already too much that you had been pawing at him all day, like a cat in heat. he knew better than to fuck you raw, but he could at least give you this. the hot tip of his cock rubbed between your soaking folds to catch on your hard clit, making you whimper into his chest and grind down against him. he rutted against you, one hand stroking himself quickly and the other bracing himself on the wall next to your head. you cried out, muffled against his shirt, finishing and clenching down on nothing. your juices dripped onto his cock and into the wet fabric of your panties, which were still suspended between your thighs. welt groaned into your neck and came hard, shooting ropes against your pussy and into the crotch of your panties. he panted as he painted your thighs white. “pull these up… there you go. relax now. that’s all i can do. you’re okay. you did well.”

jing yuan – he was pressed up against your back, one hand on your chest and the other on your abdomen, keeping you cradled in tightly to him. he was rocking his hips tiredly against you, his aching length throbbing between your folds, you whimpered every time the wet tip of his cock nudged against your clit. you shuddered as you felt his teeth sink into your shoulder. you felt messy, sweaty; he had only bothered to pull your sleep shorts and panties down just enough to gain access to your dripping pussy, your thighs clamped together providing a perfect wet cavern for him to fuck into. he was so tired, his work as a general keeping him away from you for too long. he had crawled into bed with you the previous night and could not satisfy you, but now, he was burning for you, finding the energy to rock against your pussy and coat his length in your juices. you moaned sleepily as his tip nudged so perfectly against your clit and finally made you cum, gushing around him, and the pulsing of your cunt on his length made him groan and cum in your panties and against your pussy, leaving a mess. “my darling, my darling … did so well. do you know how much i crave you? how much i adore you?”

gepard – you crowded him against a wall in an alleyway somewhere in belobog, your breath clouding in front of you as you panted softly with a smile. you had gepard’s cock in your hand, bringing his tip back and forth through the wet folds of your cunt. you chewed on your lip as you smiled, coating his length in your juices. you were whispering to him, telling him how risky it was, being out in the open like this. how dirty gepard was, begging you for your pussy in the middle of his patrol shift, he was the general, he shouldn’t be sending you lewd messages during work hours. but you still came to rescue him and his twitching cock, grinding on his tip and grinning when he sniffled and whimpered behind his hand to keep quiet. he’d never been with anyone as daring, as insatiable as you, and it drove him mad. he almost let out a sob when you dipped the head of his cock into your dripping hole, feeling himself twitch. you knew him better than he knew himself; he choked when you started to stroke his length as he came, painting the inside of your panties white with his cum. he dropped his head forward into your shoulder as his own shook, and you petted his hair through his high. “ah, ah, oh, th-thank you, thank you, much- better…”

blade – it was your fault for teasing him. that’s what he told you, anyway, despite you not having done anything out of the ordinary to warrant the punishment. blade had you bent over the nearest flat surface, in a dark alley, hands gripping your hips as he fucked you. your walls gripped around his length as you fought to find a release that would never come. he was brutally bullying your insides, heavy balls slapping against your clit, but he made absolutely certain that you wouldn’t cum. not now. you needed to be put in your place. how dare you wear that outfit around him, anyway? enticing him and forcing his hand. he growled as he pummeled into you, bending over your back to fan his breath over the back of your neck and make your hairs stand on edge. you cried out for him, begging him to let you finish, gripping down on his cock in an attempt to keep him inside. he just started to laugh at your feeble attempts at coercion. the knot in your stomach that was due to snap was ripped from you as blade suddenly pulled out entirely and came all over your pussy and thighs, stroking himself through it, leaving your legs shaking and your clit throbbing and hard. he hummed against your ear as he almost gingerly pulled your panties back up and smoothed them out with a wide palm, wanting to make sure the fabric brought you no pleasure. “go ahead, pet, walk all the way home with my cum against that pretty pussy, ‘n don’t even think about cumming until i say so. stop your cryin’ too. don’t need anyone else seeing how hot it makes you look.”

#welt x reader #jing yuan x reader #gepard x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #welt.txt #jing yuan.txt #gepard.txt #blade.txt #woodrow.txt #i uhhh. i. uhm. i.

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popponn · 1 year ago

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something about headaches. [floyd leech x reader]

note: i miss twst. and this eel. so i make a quick thing in one sitting without much thought. i just miss floyd and kind of want to write something healing for myself. also: prefect!gn!reader and concussion is there.

“Sensei!” Floyd Leech exclaimed with cheer in his voice, meanwhile you hung limply in his arms like a dying mandrake. “Shrimpy hit their head again! I’m taking them to the nurse, ‘kay?”

From the distance, Coach Vargas answered him with something you couldn’t understand. Your head throbbed and you groaned. The possibility of someone putting a curse on your face to attract wild, fast flying things suddenly became something more than Deuce’s random musings.

You began to consider actually asking Crowley for check up—but not before you had your whole body shaken up with a loud “Yay!” resounding from above you.

As Floyd started running and turned you into a sack of flour on his shoulder, you started praying to whichever astral beings still had pity left to spare for you. Faintly, you could hear your upperclassmen chirping happily about getting to run around with you and such. Your head was buzzing loudly, but you managed to catch some of them.

“How lucky! Where should we go, Shrimpy?” Floyd said and you wished you could laughed like always whilst ushering him into the nurse office.

“This is fun!” Floyd said and you wished you could agree. Perhaps, on another time, without concussion slowly draining on you.

“Senpai, I will die. For real. Slow down. Please,” you, finally feeling like you might die for real, chocked out as you hit Floyd’s back lightly.

Then, the eel suddenly drew to a stop. The loose, strong hand he had around your waist grew firmer and you wondered if you will get squeezed or thrown out of the second floor balcony there and then. “Eh, why?” Floyd’s voice took a dip in the exact manner whenever he started losing interest.

At this point, best case scenario would be him putting you down and leaving.

Nonetheless, you tried to answer him. “’M head hurts. A lot,” you worded out choppily. Breathing was getting harder. Perhaps you really were dying. Good Seven—overblots and monsters and what got you was a fucking flying disk—

“Head hurts, huh…?” Floyd parroted and maybe you spoke to fast and it would be an eel that got you, actually. “What did Jade said again…? Oh!”

“…hu—uuh!?”

Within a second, suddenly you got manhandled for the second time to the point of getting a bit of your spirit returning again. It took you another three seconds, however, to realize that your position had changed into being carried like a bride in your senior’s hands, who opted to walk slowly at that moment.

“That’s a funny sound, Shrimpy. Make more of it later,” Floyd commented, a wide smile hovering right above you along with his voice that had turned into a whisper. “Is this better? Jade said loud voice and getting hanged upside down make your head hurt lots. And I don’t like walking fast when my head hurts too. Feels better now, right?”

You blinked, trying to register the fact that instead of getting thrown away like a nosy mangy cat, Floyd acted like a straight out sweetheart. Your heart made a weird beat that you couldn’t process yet, but you managed a weak nod for him.

“He he,” Floyd’s smile grew wider. This was stupid, however you did felt that being hit in the head was not that bad, maybe.

“Can I pat your head?” you blurted out, your head growing heavier with each second. Along with it, perhaps, your logic was also drowning.

Without your blurry eyes catching them, Floyd’s expression wrote his amusement clear in his face. “Eh, Shrimpy sure asks a lot for a patient,” he chided childishly. Then, he lowered his head slightly to you without stopping his steps, “Here you go. Pat it, pat it.”

You chuckled breathlessly and softly as your fingers touched his head, “Thank you, Floyd-senpai. I will treat you to something later.”

“Aha—treats from Shrimpy?” Floyd cheered in a tone that hid something behind it. You should have paid more attention to it, but as you leaned your head against his chest, you decided you would just do it later. “Lucky! Get well soon then, ‘kay, Shrimpy?”

#twst fluff #disney twst #twst imagines #twst #twst floyd #floyd leech #twst x reader #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #floyd fluff #drabbles #floyd is actually trying his best here. but he is floyd #twst really has a soft spot in my heart idk why #disney twisted wonderland

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smallestapplin · 8 months ago

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Give me something!

🔞18+ only! MDNI! Please respect my boundaries.🔞

Please note : I've never played Honkai star rail, I can't, but I love everything I've heard and seen, so I wrote this for my partner :3

WARNING! : this fic contains pegging, edging, reader is gender neutral, afab but also gets called handsome. Sampo is desperate. Top dom reader gets flipped. Good boy is used.

You breathe a sigh of relief once you enter the Astral Express, finally done with such a tedious mission which luckily wasn't hard, the fights were easier than expected and you managed to get what you were looking for. Though you needed to reward your help, after all without him none of this would be possible.

You wave goodnight to the trailblazer and others before heading off to your room, which was luckily in an area by itself, just perfect for you as you wanted to hear his pretty sounds.

A chuckle leaves you the second you open your door, just to see Sampo sitting at the edge of your bed. You smile at him, trying not to laugh as he squirms in place.

"Excited much?" You raise an eyebrow at how he's practically shaking his ass in anticipation.

The blue and purple-haired man sits on your bed, stripped completely naked. His cock throbbing and leaking precum, his thighs shaking all jittery.

"C'mon doll don't be so mean to me!" He whines, but he cuts it off when you narrow your eyes at him.

"What are you doing on the bed, you know good boys wait on the floor."

His eyes widen but he's quick to slide off the bed and drop to the floor, on his knees legs spread for you. You make your way pass him, only pausing in your step to run your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp like he's a puppy.

Sampo leans into your touch, humming happily as he chases your hand when you resume walking to your closet door. He quickly whimpers when your hand leaves his head and focuses on your opening closet door.

His eyes lock onto the very familiar clear box that you pull out, popping it open and pulling out that beloved strap he adores so much. You have to stifle a laugh hearing him whine loudly.

"You're so cute and we haven't even started."

"Can't help it! Please, I've been waiting for this all day. I gave you what you needed for your mission, did everything just for you, and half price too!" He's already drooling.

"I know baby, I know, and you did such a good job for me." You pat his cheek before stripping out of your clothes.

The moment your panties hit the ground he's moving to your feet, his hands on your thighs trying to balance himself as he tries to shove his face between your legs. He's blind to the glare you send his way, only made aware when you thread your fingers into his hair and yank his head back.

Sampo whimpers, his lips quivering from the painful pleasure you give him.

"And you were doing so good too. I should punish you for not being able to wait two minutes."

You almost want to laugh at how wide his eyes get, the look of panic and betrayal on his face at your words. Sampo tries to shake his head, even if it's still stuck in place from your hold.

"No! No no, I promise I'll behave! Please don't keep me waiting any longer, please please please!"

He's so desperate, it's so cute.

"Fine, since you have been good thus far. C'mon baby, hop up." You pat the bed, gesturing for him to climb on it.

He moves quickly, easily darting passed you to get at the center of the bed behind you. he lays down, his chest to the bed shoulders easily to the bed, as if he's done this many times before. You coo at him for looking so pretty for you with his ass up in the air.

Sampo shudders feeling your hand lightly trail from the nape of his neck down to his plump ass. He jumps, mewling as a slap echoes in the room, and his asscheek begins to sting from your swift smack.

You rub the soft pink mark you left across his skin, soothing the heat before squeezing and pulling his cheek back. Your eyes lock onto the silver-colored buttplug, smirking at such a pretty sight of his hole already stuffed and prepped for you.

"And you did just as asked too! You're being so good today."

You don't give him time to respond to you, already grabbing the flared base of the toy and slowly pulling it out. Sampo grips the sheets, his breathing coming out in shaky stutters. His body trembles, only to fall limp with a pitiful whine, feeling so empty without anything filling him anymore.

"You're such a pitiful little thing. It's so cute how desperate you are."

You can't help but tease him a little, getting to watch his hole clench, just silently begging you to fill him. Sampo pushes his ass back, trying to tempt you into touching him more, trying to make you fuck him. He's already held up his end of the deal, and with a different price AND half off, just for you! So why must you taunt him like this?

"Mmm c'mooon! I've been so good, such a good boy for you, I swear I have." He bites his quivering lip, his eyes fluttering shut as your hand drags down the back of his thigh and around to grab his weeping dick.

"Thank you! Thank you thank you thank you!" He cries out, bucking his hips into your hand.

You coo softly at him, leaning down so your chest is against his back, you kiss his neck leaving soft bites along his pale skin marking him, distracting him from your plan.

You know he's your good boy, he's done so well for you, but how can you not bully him a little? Especially after how demanding he's been, you need to put him in his place just a little. You reach back with your free hand, slowly reaching for that clear box and grabbing a silicone ring.

One you know is the bane of Sampo's existence.

Sampo mewls, when he feels your other hand moving towards his leaking length, excitement coursing through his veins at just the thought fuck what you could do to him. His green eyes shoot wide open the moment that cock ring settles around the base of his shaft.

"W-wait wait, come on now don't be so cruel!" He looks back at you, his pretty eyes watering from his inevitable denial.

"See, now that's exactly why it's on you. When I think you've learned some manners I'll let you pour all that cum into me, got it?"

You're such a tease! So mean to him!... Fuck, he loves it.

"Now stay put."

You order him to stay while you get off the bed, grabbing the strap on you slip into it and tighten the straps over your hips and around your thighs. Sampo tries to lay there and lay still, he already wants to cum so badly! He's been waiting for this for hours, with nothing but that buttplug inside him as he waited for you.

And then you do this to him? Make him wait more?

His ears perk up at the sound of your harness smacking against your thighs as you tighten them, making him shake purely eager for you to *finally* fuck him.

"Hnn please fuck me already! I need it! Fuck me fill me- ah!"

He jolts, his back arching as you smack his ass again. He looks at you with tears stinging his eyes, only moving his arms to cling to the pillow beneath him, holding it to his face and chest.

He can hear you moving about, uncapping the lube and lathering it all over your fake cock. With each second that ticks by the more antsy he gets, he's been waiting for you to come back from that stupid mission like a good boyfriend, stretched himself just like you asked him to, and sat all pretty too!-

Sampo gasps, brought out of his thoughts from the cold feeling of your lubed strap brushing against his hole. He holds still for the first time of the night, waiting with a bated breath silently pleading for you to fuck him.

It's agonizing how slow you push the tip of your dick into his asshole. Your hands stay on his hips, digging your nails into his skin to keep him steady as you push more of your strap into him, inch by inch slowly disappearing into him.

Once you bottom out he takes a shaky breath, his chest heaving and cock left twitching.

"Are you okay, baby?" You coo so condescendingly into his ear, chuckling at his pathetic whine.

"Yes yes fuck me! Break me! Oohh please, I need your fat cock to breaking me-!!" Sampo shrieks, his jaw hangs open letting out his whorish sounds for all to hear as you give him what he wants, thrusting into him like he's nothing but a common whore.

He chokes on air gasping, trying to catch his breath but you merely fuck him harder. Sampo arches his back, raising his plump ass higher for you to meet your harsh thrusts. You watch his cheeks jiggle with each slap of your hips.

"You take my cock so well, taking all of it like a fuckin' champ."

"Aah, gotta cum, please please I'm- fuck! Lemme cum, I can't take it!"

You sigh loudly, exaggerating your disappointment.

"Already? I thought you could last longer."

You laugh softly at his choked sob. Your tip slammed into his prostate over and over again, imprinting your dick into his ass. He can't think, he can hardly breathe, he's drowning in your presence, your scent-

You quickly pull out of him, not even waiting to hear him cry, you flip him over, manhandling him to lay on his back. His world spins before he sees your face. He blinks only to realize what you're doing when you toss his legs over your hips, you don't even give him a moment to process it all, already pushing your cock back into his awaiting hole.

You watch him toss his head back, droopy eyes crossing from just your dick filling him again.

"You make the sluttiest expression for me. You're my whore, right?" You smile, chuckling at his dumb smile.

"M'yours, only yours! Mm- shit! Only, haa, you can fuck me this good!" Oh how earnestly he answers you, desperate to prove he's your good boy.

Aeons above your pussy are so wet just from seeing him like this, hearing his lewd moans, and seeing his fucked out expressions, it's almost too much for you.

Almost.

His cock bounces between you two, moving from your hard-hitting thrusts and dripping his precum all over his stomach, though it's almost like you fucked the ability to think out of him.

Not a coherent thought rings in Sampo's head, only mustering the strength to think about your cock and wanting to cum so badly, but he can't form the words, his tongue feels so heavy in his mouth.

His breath catches in his throat as you grind your dick into him, pressing deeply into him so you can press your chests together.

"I think you've been good enough pretty boy. You deserve a reward."

It's so cute how he perks up at the sound of a 'reward'.

"Oohh thank you! Thank you, I swear I'm your good boy!"

He's trembling, watching your movements with undivided attention. He tries not to whine when you slowly pull your strap out of him, though he already misses it greatly. You unfasten the harness and toss it off the bed, eyes never leaving Sampo's as you crawl back over to him, straddling his thighs.

His eyes go wide at just how close your pussy is to his dick.

You drag your nails lightly from his chest down to his stomach, only stopping just shy of his shaft. You grab hold of the cock ring, carefully stretching it wide and taking it off of him.

"Don't cum yet." You firmly tell him, just loving to watch him struggle to hold back the urge.

Sampo grips the sheets below him, balling it up in his fists trying to steady his breathing. You lift yourself, positioning his dick to your entrance, slowly lowering yourself, just barely getting his bulbous tip in before he tenses up.

You look at him confused for a moment, only for them to widen as Sampo screams his cum flooding your pussy, filling it to the brim with his spend. You moan softly feeling the heat of his cum fill you, it feels so good after so long with no stimulation.

You gasp as Sampo grabs your hips and slams you down, making you take all of his cock. You arch your back, crying out the pleasurable burn of taking all of him at once. However, you don't get a chance to recover before he's already thrusting into you, using your cunt as his personal fleshlight.

"M'sorry! Oh sorry I just- fuck! Fuckfuckfuck, I love your pretty pussy!" He just can't take it, he's addicted to your needy hole fluttering around him.

"S-Sampo slow- mm! Slow down!"

It's like he can't hear you, lost to ecstasy, only fucking you with his fat cock, rutting into you like a heat-stricken beast. Drool leaks down his chin, his eyes rolling back as he can feel you're close to cumming.

"Yes yes yes, milk my cock! C'mon, handsome!" His tongue hangs limp from his open mouth slurring his pleads.

You slam your hands onto his chest, trying to balance yourself on the monster below you. He looks so pretty fucked out like this, but you're not any better.

His cock kisses your cervix with every piston of his hips, fucking every thought out of your head. Your eyes cross and your mouth drops open, letting out a loud squeal as you cum. Your pussy flutters and clenches around Sampo's cock.

His head drops back against the pillows, a loud groan leaves him as his balls clench before fucking more of his thick cum into your pussy. But he doesn't slow down or stop, he keeps going.

Your world skins and before you know it he's on top of you, your back against the bed and legs over his shoulders. He leans down, slamming his lips onto yours, his tongue easily sliding in and dancing around yours, muffling both of your pornographic sounds.

His hips wetly smacked into yours, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, promising to fill you with more of his cum.

After all, he waited hours for you, he has to make up for lost time.

#smut #spicy #hsr x reader smut #hsr sampo x reader smut #honkai star rail smut #Honkai star rail sampo smut #honkai star rail sampo x reader smut #sampo x reader smut #honkai star rail x reader smut #mdni #🔞🔞🔞#this was for my dear but the friend that beta read it yelled at me to post it/lovingly #adults only!

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multi-lefaiye · 2 months ago

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snippet sunday - sunbringer's song

WOOOOO wowie wow wow!!!! okay, yeah, i am *very* close to finishing the prologue, but it's not quite done. but!! i wanted to share a bit of what i've gotten done for snippet sunday.

(or should i say... sunbringer sunday........ yeah i'll see myself out.)

content warnings for this excerpt: eye trauma, worms, worms going in someone against their will. y'know, bg3 prologue things. the actual gore isn't described in a lot of detail, but it's still very visceral because i'm focusing heavily on what eden is *feeling* in the moment. if any of that is an issue, please tread lightly !

writing / eden's fanclub taglist: @vacantgodling @skitzo-kero @anexor @chaieyestea @invaderskoodge

@kk7-rbs @albatris @corvus-rose @paradoxspir1t @moonflowerrss

@astral-runic @yourlocal-lichen @void-botanist

A worm--a terrible, spiny creature, hissing and writhing in the mind flayer’s grasp. It snaps its jaws full of jagged teeth, and the freezing dread in his veins splinters as his heart leaps into his throat.

For what feels like several long, agonizing hours, the mind flayer lowers the worm down toward his face. He struggles, in vain, to jerk his head away, but whatever force is keeping his eye open holds him firmly in place. There’s nothing he can do.

A heartbeat passes, and the worm is on his face, his skin itching at the feeling of its claws.

Another, and it rears up, snapping its teeth as it drools in frantic anticipation.

And then, it dives into his open eye.

Half of his vision explodes, bloody and hot and agonizing like nothing he has ever felt before. He can’t see what’s happening, but he can feel every stab of the little monster’s teeth and pinprick claws as it rips into him. It’s a million fire-tipped needles slicing and tearing open his flesh, burrowing into his skull.

He wants so badly to scream, but no sound comes out as he thrashes about in his coffin. But the mind flayer is still holding him in place, watching him impassively as he bites back pained sobs.

Some time passes, he can’t be sure how long, but eventually his vision begins to clear, bit by bit. His head is throbbing anew and his sight is blurry and streaked with red, but it seems the worm has come to a stop, resting just behind his eye.

He lets out a shuddering, whimpering breath, then bares his teeth and looks back up at the mind flayer. It’s still watching him. All he wants is to claw those beady fucking eyes out of its skull, to make it hurt like it��s making him hurt, but he still can’t move.

“Fuck you,” he bites out, each word a ragged clot of blood and glass shards in the back of his mouth. The mind flayer does not react. After a moment, it waves its hand, severing whatever strings held him in place, and he falls limply back into his coffin, his left eye snapping shut reflexively.

Another wave of its hand, and the lid closes with another hiss.

#Multi's Writing #eden linnaeus #eye trauma cw #bg3: sunbringer's song #bg3 #the prologue is just full of eden experiencing body horror and eye trauma #and he is being so brave about it #also! notice how this excerpt does not use eden's name.#that's on purpose. he hasn't remembered his name yet

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honourablejester · 1 year ago

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Spelljammer Campaign Concept

Since I’m space-ttrpg brained at the minute. One thing specific to spelljammer’s Astral Sea setting that I really wish they’d added more to is the idea that it’s full of dead gods. And live ones, yes, but it’s the gargantuan celestial corpses that I’m interested in. (Which sounds weird when I say it like that, but anyway). There’s a canonical city, the githyanki city of Tu’narath, built on one of these corpses, and apparently in older lore Red Wizards of Thay pulled an artefact that beat like a heart out of it. There’s an idea that some aspect of divinity or even life still resides in some of these vast remains, some spark of godhood that provides power and even some animation to a thing long dead. In whatever sense gods can die.

And. Look. That is a hell of a concept to just throw out there and dismiss in a single sentence and small sidebar in your new setting book. I’m mad about it. Anyway.

The Astral Sea is littered with the corpses of dead gods, strange and forgotten deities from thousands of worlds. Strange beings that have become strange places, islands in a silver vastness, sometimes still pulsing with the echoes of divine life and perhaps divine natures. Places big enough to build cities on. Or dungeons in. Big enough to explore. Searching for what?

So. Picture this campaign. A mysterious backer is approaching the crews of adventurous spelljammer vessels, sponsoring expeditions to strange places in the Astral Sea. Terrifying places in the Astral Sea. The remnants of what were once gods, and now are bizarre islands full of strange magic and the echoes of old divine domains. This backer is searching for something specific from these sites, these corpses, and, on top of actual payment, is willing to allow crews to keep anything else they find on these expeditions for themselves, provided they bring everything they find back and allow the backer to examine them and choose a single item for themselves. Upon receipt of this item, they will pay the crew what they owe, and allow them to keep the rest.

This is because it’s not an item they’re searching for, as such. It’s a shard. A shard of lost divinity. A fragment of celestial life, still throbbing at the hearts of vast corpses. The form it takes will be different every time. The form of the deity will be different every time, and so the seat of their last remaining fragment of divinity will be different also. It might look, and feel, like anything. But the backer will know it when they see it. And they’ll pay for it.

They’re not going to say this, of course. They’re not going to tell anyone what they’re looking for. But they’re sending crews out. Maybe they’ve been sending crews out for a while. No one ages in the Astral Sea, so maybe they’ve been on this quest for time without meaning. One shard isn’t enough. Not for their purposes. Many of them are so small and so faded, bare motes of potential after aeons of death. They don’t want a single fragment of divinity, this person, they need enough to make a whole one. A whole divinity. Necromancy of the rudest sort, a frankensteined apotheosis. If you eat the fractured souls of enough dead gods, sooner or later, won’t you become one yourself?

I’m picturing an eldritch lich, personally. One that’s been listening to whispers from the Far Realm for far too long. A puppetmaster being puppeted themselves, maybe. What forces in creation have an interest in the ascension of a frankensteined god? What would the results be of a god made of pieces, torn fragments, of so many lost and disparate and unwilling dead deities? Any and all deities. Good, evil, alien, of any and all domains, scavenged and consumed into a single, roiling whole. What sort of divinity would result from so traumatic a process? And what would that divinity then do?

But all that’s in the future. An endgame perhaps aeons or only a few remaining shards down the line. For the moment, what’s being asked is this:

Travel the Astral Sea. Find the body of a god. Venture into its depths. Bring me everything you find.

Now. I’m going to take objection to the description of the dead gods provided in Astral Adventurer’s Guide, and offer a different direction:

“The Astral Sea is also where one can find the petrified remains of gods who were slain by more powerful entities or who lost all their mortal worshipers and perished as a result. A dead god looks like a gigantic, nondescript stone statue that bears little resemblance to the divine entity it once was. Githyanki, mind flayers, psurlons, and other natives of the Astral Plane sometimes turn these drifting hulks into outposts and cities, many of which are hollowed out beneath the surface.”

A giant nondescript statue that looks nothing like the deity once did. No. Boring. Even Tu’narath still has six arms, so there’s some resemblance happening there. And besides. It’s just cooler, more fun, more interesting, if the dead gods do resemble what they once were. If they are influenced by what domains they once held. Because then … the universe is your oyster.

They’re all different. All these island corpses. These slain gods. This is the Astral Sea. These are the deities of a thousand worlds and a thousand species and a thousand forgotten realms. They might look like anything. Shaped by the echoes of the god’s nature and its domains and its species. The dead sea god that looks like a vast alien whale, whose gut is filled with strange waters and strange creatures, and into whose belly the party must venture. A forgotten deity of knowledge whose vast skull now contains a calcified, crystalline ‘library’ with aeons of knowledge written in light onto spun fibres of crystal. A deity of madness, darkness and despair whose corpse is a labyrinthine maze of passages that leech will and soul the further you venture into them, a lingering undead malice that doesn’t want you dead so much as maddened and undone. And your sponsor won’t care, so long as at least one of you makes it back, that shard of dark power clutched in your trembling fist.

Some of the bodies might still be guarded. Some of them might be inhabited, with cities and realms nested into their bones and calcified flesh. Some might be considerably more ‘alive’ than others. Some might be just stranger than others, deities so lost and far-flung and alien that nothing about even their inert remains makes sense. You have … an infinity of options here. Let your inner dungeon designer completely off the chain. These are the corpses of dead gods made physical, floating in an infinite silver sea of possibilities. There are no rules, not even physics. You could do literally anything you wanted here.

It'd make sense if the backer was sending crews to less well-known, and therefore perhaps stranger and more dangerous, corpses, just to be sure that no one had taken or destroyed what they’re looking for already. The more alive ones, more likely to still contain lingering power and divinity. So you have an excellent excuse to get weird up in here.

Basically, if you want a vast, eldritch, apocalyptic dungeon crawl, or series of dungeon crawls, in space, then the Astral Sea is very much the perfect setting. Although, yes, this is likely a high level campaign, unless you want to guide the party in with more accessible godly dungeons first. Even then it’s probably on the high side.

There’s also the shards themselves to consider. They’ll likely be potent magic items. You’re holding a piece of a god’s divinity in your hand. With powers probably themed to what the god would have been in life. Although they don’t necessarily need to be powerful. The divinity might be faded enough, shattered and torn by death, that it doesn’t do much externally anymore. Its power is intrinsic to what it is, not what it does. And maybe that makes more sense for how crews are willing to give them up afterwards, if they’re only mildly impressive amidst other loot.

Though that could be a thing. If it’s a magic item that you know for a fact your party will want to keep, and then that could bring them into conflict with their ‘backer’ before they ever maybe twig to the greater issue going on.

And there is a question of how and if they do twig to that. How would they find out the goals here. Are there other interested parties who’ve figured out what our backer is trying for? Or simply parties who are aware that they have been desecrating dead gods and who object on purely moral and philosophical grounds? How has society in the Astral Sea evolved around the fact that there are dead gods just drifting around?

How do living gods, deities with living dominions in the Sea, deal with the idea that there is a creature going around looting the corpses of their deceased forebearers? Grave-robbing in the Astral Sea can potentially be a couple of orders of magnitude more apocalyptic than the terrestrial equivalent normally manages, and I do love that.

(Or maybe it’s not apocalyptic. Maybe there’s nothing left in the dead gods that could actually make a new one, no matter how many you eat, and those few deities who are aware of our backer’s quest, deities of knowledge, perhaps, just look at them with pity for this obsession, delusion, of theirs. They don’t want them stopped because of the danger, but just because of the disrespect, the desecration. That, and the fact that eating bits of dead gods, while it might not make you a god yourself, still won’t do anything good to you, and perhaps there is a certain amount of not goodness happening that does need to be dealt with. Dealer’s choice.

Or perhaps the gods think that, and they’re wrong, and now you have to convince incredible all-powerful entities that there is a genuine threat there, whether they believe it or not)

I just. You can’t just put that out there, that this setting you’re casually sailing around is full of dead gods, and not … do something with it. Expand on it. Play with the implications of it. The Astral Sea is a vast, infinite celestial graveyard, and the remains of dead gods are locations you can interact with. That is a concept, and you can have a bit more fun with it than ‘nondescript statue asteroids that people can build on’ over here. Lingering echoes of what those deities once were, fragments of divinity, the sheer magical and theological potential of being able to grave-rob a dead god. Come on. You have divine corpses, in a setting where necromancy exists. Somebody’s gonna do something apocalyptic with the implications of that, you just know they are.

And in the process, you can get some really cool and weird dungeons to explore. Heh.

Spelljammer has such potential as a setting. The Astral Sea allows so many possibilities. How do you open with ‘you are sailing through a setting where you can make port at a god’s house or at a rock that is a dead god’ and just … park that there and leave it? Good god. Good gods. And bad ones, and weird ones, and completely inexplicable ones too.

I’m not sure Wizards quite understood how much they jumped the scale by bringing spelljammer back and putting it in the Astral Sea. So many settings have archmages and other people spend so many resources to try and reach the realms of gods, and in spelljammer you and your dinky ship can just sail up and knock on their door. Maybe not get in, but you can totally just heave up to any deity who has a Dominion in the Sea and at least knock. You can put your smuggler’s cache in a dead god’s skull. The deities are now, in this setting, significantly more interactable. If you want to try and necromancy a god’s corpse, that is a thing you can attempt.

Which is probably why they tried to tone it down with the whole ‘nondescript statues’ thing, that dead gods in the Sea are just rocks that people build on/in, but … Honestly? It’s still a dead god. You can’t undo the raw scale of that. And maybe you shouldn’t, either.

Nah. Play into the bonkers scale and setting implications of a potentially infinite number of god corpses just littered around the place, with the astral floating kingdoms and vacation homes of living gods keeping them company, and you in your dinky little boat sailing cheerfully out among them. Because that’s amazing, it really is.

Anyway. Have fun. Moving swiftly on.

#d&d #d&d 5e #spelljammer #why am i so salty about spelljammer?#it's SUCH a cool setting #you could do so much with it #anyway #campaign ideas #deities #necromancy #dungeon crawler

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