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prythianpages · 21 days ago

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Beautiful Stranger | Azriel

Azriel x Reader | Azriel gets injured while on a mission and meets someone he never thought he would. aka you finding an injured Az and the mating bond snapping.

warnings: mentions injuries and blood; other than that, this is light & fluff

word count: 4,342

a/n: I love Halsey's Finally//Beautiful Stranger & when it came on my shuffle while driving, this fic played out in my mind.

Humming quietly to yourself to keep your thoughts occupied, you allow the glow of the moon and fireflies to guide you back to the village. Dawn Court was your home, but after the fall of Spring, you had volunteered to help its fae, creatures, and land heal from the devastation left by Hybern’s attacks.

Though the damage to Spring was immense, its beauty still endured. The air still held a lingering heaviness but the flowers had begun to bloom once more with promise and hope of a better future. Your task today had been to gather healing herbs, yet when you stumbled upon a field of dandelions in full bloom, you couldn’t resist the urge to stop and admire the scenery. It was why you were returning late at night, long past the sunset you had promised to return by.

As you made your way along the path, the gentle breeze grew colder and sharper. It rustled the leaves on the trees and made the branches creak, its eerie sound halting your steps and silencing your humming. A chill of unease prickled your skin and your muscles tensed in alarm.

Then you saw them.

Shadows, darker than the night itself, swirling around you.

These were not the shadows you were used to seeing at night. No, these shadows felt alive and with purpose.

You should’ve turned back. But there was something in the way they moved, fluid and insistent, that made you follow. With every step, they guided you away from the familiar moonlit path and deeper into the forest, pulling you toward the river that ran through the heart of the woods.

A flicker of blue light was coming from just beyond the tree line, catching your eye. Curiosity tugged at you, drawing you closer. The shadows slithered toward the faint glow, vanishing into the darkness by the water’s edge.

When you finally reached the riverbank, your breath hitched at the sight before you.

A male lay sprawled on the shore, half-submerged in the water, his blood mingling with the river’s water. Blinking your eyes, you saw the shadows that led you to him, clinging to his battered form and limp wings. They pulsed in a protective manner. It’s then that you recognized the source of the blue light. It was coming from the gems attached to the leathers he wore.

Siphons. He must be Illyrian…but what was an Illyrian from the Night Court doing in Spring? Alone?

It didn’t matter. You immediately rushed and knelt beside him, your healer’s instincts snapping into action. Your finger’s pressed against his neck, mind racing with worry and dread as his skin felt cold against yours. He must’ve been out for awhile now. The nerves eased slightly when you felt a pulse.

Weak but present.

You slipped your arms beneath him, the shadows aiding you as they wrapped around his arms, helping you turn him over to his side. His dark hair clung to his face, your hand reaching up to brush it back.

Your eyes finally met the face of the fallen warrior and something snapped.

So piercing and electrifying, it had your heart fluttering from the intensity. All at once, the golden threads of the bond you’d only heard stories about unraveled in your chest. They weaved between your rib cage, pulling you tight toward him. A pull so strong it left you breathless and in shock.

Fate and shadows had brought him to you. Your mate.

But the exhilaration of it all was soon smothered by panic, the golden threads beginning to quiver. His blood, too much of it, stained the riverbank. His body was limp in your arms, his breathing shallow.

You had found your mate and already, you were on the verge of losing him before you could even learn his name.

Azriel wakes to the sound of singing, a nice and sweet sound, and he catches faintly to the words. He’s never felt so warm, so relaxed. His senses are dulled by grogginess, his body sluggish, but something feels… different. Lighter, somehow.

Beside him, his shadows stir, the familiar weight of their presence grounding him. But there's also something else— different from the cool and light caresses of his shadows. Firmer. Warmer. The pressure is foreign but comforting.

As his senses slowly return, the scent of herbs and incense reach him before his eyes flutter open. Where am I? He thinks, finally blinking his eyes to clear his vision.

The first thing he sees is you, the source of the beautiful singing.

Light streams into the room, casting a golden halo around you. It strikes him hard, stealing his breath and sending a shock through his chest. He doesn’t know who you are, what you are. But you’re beautiful, so beautiful that his brows furrow in bewildered awe. There’s no way, he thinks. I don’t belong here…

He wills his dry lips to part, his voice is rough and barely audible. “Am I…dead?”

Your eyes widen and your singing comes to a sudden stop, startled by his sudden words. The warmth he felt vanishes as you pull your hand back, and only then does he realize it had been your touch on his face earlier. Your hand hovers between you, glowing faintly with a bronze light, like the first rays of dawn, before you settle it into your lap.

“No,” you finally answer. “You’re not dead.”

Azriel tears his gaze from your face, even though some part of him protests. His eyes wander around the small room, taking in the sparse furniture, the wooden desk cluttered with jars and vials. The sunlight continues to stream through the single window, the curtain hanging doing little to dull the brightness thanks to the Spring breeze. It blinds him when it catches his eyes and he winces, looking away.

His attention is inevitably drawn back to you. You’re seated beside him, perched on a small stool that does not look comfortable by the bed. His shadows, the loyal dark tendrils that always remain by his side, are dancing around you. Their movement is playful, loving almost and you don’t seem bothered by it. As if they’ve done this before.

The sight stirs an unfamiliar flutter in his chest.

The flutter is cut short when one of his wings, too big for the bed he’s in, twitches and knocks into the bedside table. A vial tumbles to the floor, the sound of shattering glass jerking his body forward, and in an instant, the memories come rushing back.

He remembers the mission. Rhysand had sent him to the wall separating the mortal lands from Prythian. He had met with Jurian, the encounter brief, and then he was on his way back—flying over the Spring Court when he was ambushed. His mind aches as he tries to remember more but all he remembers is being struck by poisoned arrows and falling through trees. Multiple trees.

Hot, searing pain stabs through him at the sudden movement and your hands fly to his bandaged chest, gently urging him to sit back. “You’re safe,” you reassure him. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

Azriel shouldn’t feel comforted by your words, not when he barely knows you. However, he finds your voice soothing. He listens, allowing himself to slowly lean back against the pillows, despite his mind screaming at him that you’re a stranger. Your hands remain on his chest, glowing again with that soft bronze light, and the sharp pain in his body begins to ebb away, fading into a dull ache. Much more bearable.

His shadows return to him, sighing with relief as they nestle close. Azriel watches you, keen hazel eyes taking in more of your features. The curve of your lips, the softness of your eyes. They draw him in, and he finds himself unable to look away. Had it not been for the pain that shot through him moments ago, he would’ve thought you lied to him about not being dead. Because surely you weren’t from this world to have him in a daze like this…

“Who are you?”

“I’m…,” you hesitate, uncertainty crossing your features. He watches with bated breath, waiting but the words seem to catch in your throat. You swallow, clearing your throat before speaking again. “I’m just a healer.”

“And here I thought you were an angel from above.”

A quiet laugh escapes you, and the tension in your posture melts away. The corner of your lips tug up into a faint smile, one that Azriel surprisingly finds himself mirroring. “Sorry to disappoint.”

He doesn’t think. The words spill from him before he can stop them. “I didn’t say I was disappointed.”

The flush that dawns across your cheeks doesn’t go unnoticed. You turn your head, trying to hide the reaction. It’s too late. Azriel already saw it and even if he hadn’t, his shadows are happily gushing over it. Some, the ones not distracted by your beauty, curled around his ear and whispered about the emotion lingering on your face, in your eyes.

There was more you meant to say. Words left unsaid and he wants to know, the curiosity and yearning bordering on desperate. His gaze assesses you again, searching for an answer. For a hint. His shadows continue to whisper. Good, they say reassuringly, sensing no danger or malintent in you. We found her for you!

She saved master's life. Master was out for three days and she stayed by master’s side. She’s–

“What’s your name?” You ask, pulling him from the silent conversation with his shadows.

Azriel is not one to give his name so easily, often going by what he was–a Shadowsinger– rather than who he was. He’s also not one to dwell in places he’s unfamiliar with longer than necessary. But you saved his life and for some strange reason, his shadows had taken an immediate liking to you. They seem to trust you and therefore, so does he.

“Azriel.”

“Azriel,” you repeat and his shadows shudder in response, as though they, too, are captivated by the sound of it on your lips. His stomach flutters in time with their movement.

“What about yours?”

“Y/n.”

“Y/n,” he says, repeating your name the same way you had his. His shadows dance in the air around you both.

It’s late morning, as you pick up the empty plate from him, that he feels the familiar sensation of talons scraping against his mind. Azriel?? Rhysand’s voice is urgent, the frantic panic of it making him wince. Your head immediately turns in concern and Azriel brushes it off with a small shake of his head.

I’m alive. Azriel responds, his answer curt as he’s once again distracted by your presence.

Thank The Mother, Rhysand breathes a sigh of relief. Where are you? Are you somewhere safe? Do you need me to–

I’m fine. I was attacked while flying through Spring.

Who? Rhysand demands.

Given the fact that whoever ambushed me has made no move to find me and finish the job, I’d say no one of importance. Azriel replies, lips curving into a small frown at the thought of being caught off guard and attacked. It rarely happened, his shadows always keeping him one step ahead of anyone and anything. Had they been distracted…?

He turns his head, searching for the shadows in question. Some remained with him, choosing to burrow under the blankets. The others, however, were hovering at your side and helping you clean up from breakfast. One even opens the door for you and he hears you murmur a small thanks as you leave the room.

Azriel had spent most of the afternoon sleeping. He didn’t want to, not liking the idea of being in such a vulnerable state with someone he barely knew. It’s not that he suspected you’d harm him or had bad intentions–you literally saved his life for Cauldron’s sake! It was just a feeling he was not used to. To be able to sleep safe and sound.

When he woke up again, it was a brand new day. He realized the bandages on his chest and arm had been changed. He was slowly gathering his strength back. One of his shadows must’ve given him away because shortly after he woke, you had walked in with a friend.

“Wow,” the dark haired fae murmured, her steps faltering. Her eyes had widened in wonder, taking in the large expanse of his wings that made the bed look ridiculously small. “The Cauldron truly favors you.”

Azriel’s gaze couldn’t help but narrow. Those words had been directed at you, not him.

You’d introduced her as Poppy, explaining she was your friend, another healer whose family had taken you in. Poppy had left shortly after setting a steaming bowl of stew on the table right next to the bed. She had been adamant on letting him know her mother had made it and not you, which he found odd.

Azriel was surprised to learn this was your room and you’d given it up for him. He tried to protest, offering to sleep on the couch or floor. Of course, you had refused and he was even more surprised to learn you were more stubborn than he was.

Where are you in Spring? Rhysand’s presence in his mind pulls him back to the present. He hopes he hadn’t accidentally projected his memory to his friend, wanting to keep it to himself for now. I can send Cassian, if you’re unable to fly.

No. Azriel responds immediately and he can feel Rhysand’s confusion. I’m alive and safe. I just need more time to recover.

And without waiting for a response, Azriel brings up his mental shields again, shutting Rhysand out. He can only hope he doesn’t send Feyre knocking on his mind next. Or worse, actually send Cassian to Spring, despite him saying not to.

He should’ve said yes, and accepted the help. The Spring Court was among the least favorite of his courts, in tie with the Autumn Court. He had a strong distaste for the High Lord, who remained wandering through his forests like a beast.

As you return to the room, Azriel catches sight of a faint glow wrapped around your wrist. He hadn’t seen it before, the glow of your magic outshining the gold ink etched there. A sun, cradled by a crescent moon, and below the moon, a fine lined star glimmers, connecting the two celestial bodies with its ray of starshine.

“You’re far from home.” Azriel comments, nodding toward the tattoo.

“So are you,” you answer, lips turning up at the slight flush that takes over Azriel. You then glance down at the tattoo on your wrist. The insignia of your Court with the added touch of your healing gift. The tattoo was an honor, a testimony of the oath you had taken after mastering your magic. “I came to Spring to help after the war.”

“Will you go back home after?” He asks, a little too quickly, then clears his throat. His shadows snicker beside him in a knowing manner. “Or will you stay here?”

“I’ll stay here as long as I’m needed.”

He doesn’t understand why but a part of him feels relieved that you’re not attached to this court.

“You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need,” you then add.

He feels an odd sense of relief, and his shadows give a little wiggle in excitement. He sends them a glare, and they sheepishly return to hiding under the covers. Though one brave shadow lingers by his side long enough to whisper, you'll find out soon Master.

“They’re cute," your voice pulls him from questioning his teasing shadow.

Azriel lets out a snort, the effort making his chest and stomach ache. Cute. His shadows had been called many things—strange, unnerving, even unsettling—but never cute. They typically clung to him, weaving around his form quietly, careful not to disturb anyone. Unless he sent them on a mission of their own or they had a mission of their own.

Occasionally, they’d make an exception for Cassian, creeping up behind him just to tap his shoulder and bask in his exasperation when he turned to find nothing there. They’d even tried their luck with Rhysand once, though he was never fooled. Yet, for reasons Azriel couldn’t fathom, his shadows had taken an immediate liking to you, drifting toward you whenever they could.

The said shadows peek out from under the covers, almost shyly. If they could blush, he’s sure they would be at this moment. They're never going to forget this moment.

“I wouldn’t call them cute,” Azriel replies, ignoring their indignant hisses.

Conversation flows easily between you two from there, Azriel giving into his curiosity to know and learn more about you. Much to his surprise, Azriel indulged you in your questions, telling you about his shadows and things about himself he rarely told others. They were small, trivial things such as his exact favorite shade of blue and his biggest pet peeve. Yet you held onto every word, every detail and it felt strangely comforting.

Two more days passed, Azriel’s body still healing. Slowly but surely. You had been able to recover one of the arrows that had shot him. Not that it mattered. Azriel was now, unfortunately, familiar with the effects of faebane. It hindered his healing and though it was frustrating, there was one upside to it all–the friendship blossoming between you and Azriel.

There’s a knock on the door as you mix Azriel’s concoction for pain. “Yes?” You call out.

Poppy peeks her head in. “I was just checking to see if I had given you enough spearmint for the pain tonic and also to let you know that we’ll be out most of the day. If you wanted to take out your ma—male for a walk or something without being bothered by the little ones.”

You freeze and a sheepish look takes over your features, tainting your cheeks. “Poppy,” you say her name again in what sounds like a warning. “He has a name, you know. And he doesn’t need to be taken on a walk.”

“Oh, right, Azriel,” she says, giving him a cheery wave. “Hello again!”

“Hello,” Azriel replies, shifting in the bed, despite the protests of his muscles. He’s not at all offended by Poppy, her aura too bright and cheery to be bothered. He flashes you a grin that has your grasp on the mixer faltering. “I think a walk would be nice actually.”

“Told you!” Poppy replies. “Anyway, we’ll see you for dinner. Send a butterfly if you need me.”

When the door closes, you let out a small sigh, shaking your head with a small, sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry about her.”

Azriel brushes off your concern, his eyes shining bright when he looks back at you. “How about that walk?”

Azriel grunts as he pushes to stand, his wings trembling as he shifts his weight, unused to bearing himself after days of bedrest. He stumbles right into your arms, his usually steady form swaying. You quickly catch him, your arms coming around one of his sides. His shadows dart toward his other side, helping you hold him upright.

“I’ve got you,” you say softly, your hold surprisingly firm.

He can't help it. He lets out a low, amused breath.

“What?” You ask.

“Usually, I’m the one saying that.”

Your lips quirk into a smile, a gleam in your eye, as you help him find his balance. “Well, even the best need someone to lean on sometimes, right?”

Azriel stares at you. Something in his chest tightens–a weird but comforting sensation. It’s similar, if not the same, to what he had felt when he first saw you. Warm and painfully sweet. The feeling reassures him that, though you were strangers mere days ago, you’re someone he can lean on.

“Come on,” you murmur, nodding toward the door.

Azriel lets you guide him through the house and out onto the porch. You settle there together, cutting the walk very short. You're mindful not to push him too far when he's still recovering. Azriel doesn't mind, the fresh air enough for him. He knows he isn’t at full strength to protect you should anything arise. Even though you most likely know these forests better than himself.

His hands drift to the porch railing as he leans forward for support, fingers curling around the edge. The sunlight glances off his scarred hands, each ridge and mark stark against his skin. He’d kept them hidden beneath the covers and out of your view while bedridden, hiding them instinctively, unable to forget the pitying glances they’d drawn in the past. Though he’s sure you must've seen them when you rescued him.

Now, as he feels your gaze slide toward them, a familiar discomfort tugs at him. He starts to withdraw his hands, wanting to tuck them closer to himself.

But you reach out. Your hand hovers, brushing slightly over his. There’s a slight hesitation—an uncertainty in whether to bridge the space or leave it. In the end, you let your hand rest gently beside his.

Azriel hesitates, unused to this vulnerability, yet unable to move away. He glances up to meet your eyes and his guarded expression softens slightly. “They’re… not easy to look at,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know they’re not.”

“I’m familiar with scars, you know. They don’t make you less of who you are.”

Azriel’s jaw tightens, his gaze dropping where your hands are barely brushing against one another. His throat feels tight, an ache he’s kept buried resurfacing.

“Not to me,” you continue. “I don’t see you any differently because of them.”

He searches your face and he sees something in your eyes that helps him slowly relax. His gaze returns to your hand, fingers hovering now over his. This time, there’s no hesitation as you gently lay your hand over his, holding it as if the scars didn’t exist at all.

It’s such a simple gesture, yet it speaks volumes.

His shadows slither down his arm and toward where your hands connect. For the first time, Azriel feels no urge to hide, no shame from the past that has long haunted him.

A silence drifts down between the two of you, settling like a blanket over the conversation. There’s no need to fill it, no awkwardness there. Just a gentle, shared peace, stretching softly around you both. He turns his head, shifting his gaze forward and takes a deep breath.

He closes his eyes and a breeze rolls in, brushing against his skin and stirring his hair. His shadows begin to whisper excitedly. He basks in the sun’s warmth, and lets the scent of spring fill his senses from the fresh earth to the blooming flowers and the faint sweetness of pollen. It brings forth a tickle in his nose, and before he can stop it, he sneezes. His body groans in response, wings shuddering.

“Bless you,” you say, but he notices the way your mouth quirks as if you’re holding back a laugh.

“What?” he asks, brows furrowing.

“I’m sorry,” you giggle, your free hand rising to stifle it. “It’s just… you have such a fatherly sneeze.”

Azriel raises an eyebrow, a rare, amused smile creeping onto his face. “Fatherly sneeze?” He echoes. He has never heard the expression before yet he somehow understands it. If you thought his sneeze was “fatherly,” he’s curious to see your reaction to one of Cassian’s sneezes. That thought is enough to make him laugh outright.

It's so silly but the sound is so contagious that you laugh too. His shadows began to flutter around you, as if joining in on the laughter. Azriel’s gaze then drifts down, watching the way your lips curve in laughter, how your eyes crinkle at the corners, how effortlessly you draw light into his heart.

And there it is again—that rush of warmth. It’s mixed in with joy, so pure and intense it has to be coming from you. His heart stirs, his pulse quickens, his mind clears, and in a single, life-altering instant, he knows.

“You’re my mate.”

Your smile falters, replaced by a moment of hesitation. Some shadows travel to you, brushing softly against your arms as if in a reassuring manner. He can't help but watch them, realization dawning on him.

“Yeah, I am,” you admit quietly.

“How—when…” His voice catches, unable to form the words.

“I was walking through the forest when your shadows came to me. They led me to you, by the river. You were unconscious and bleeding. And then… the bond snapped for me the moment I saw your face. You were so cold and--and…,” your face tightens, eyes glistening at the memory and Azriel can feel the panic you must’ve felt then. “I’d just found what so many only dream of and you were already slipping away...I thought I’d never get to know your name…”

Azriel feels a pang deep in his chest as he absorbs every word. His chest feels tight again and he swallows thickly. “And when I woke up, why didn’t you tell me?”

Your gaze falls, fingers twisting together. “I wanted you to heal, to feel better. That’s all that mattered.”

“I owe you my life.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I would’ve saved you, mate or not.”

Azriel searches your face, touched beyond words at the sincerity in your tone. It made sense why he felt so drawn to you since the moment he saw you, why his shadows took a sudden liking to you and kept whispering "we found her, we found her!" They had known all this time, been able to sense it before he even could.

Looking back, Poppy being the one to bring him food and water and not you was not as strange as he originally thought. You were being mindful, not wanting to accidentally accept the bond without his knowledge. He felt an overwhelming gratitude for how gentle and considerate you've been with him all along. He couldn’t help but wonder how he had gotten so lucky to be bound to someone like you.

“And would you have sung to me, mate or not?” Azriel asks, his mind drifting back to the exact moment he'd first woken up.

Your cheeks flush, and you glance away toward the gardens, suddenly refusing to meet his eyes. “What?” You let out a small huff. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“What did I hear?” Azriel’s tone borders on teasing, his expression shifting into one of exaggerated contemplation. “Something like… ‘Beautiful stranger, here you are…’”

“That’s enough!” You interrupt, your face turning into an even deeper shade of pink, caught somewhere between mortification and laughter.

This time, it’s Azriel holding back a chuckle. His lips curl into a small smirk, seeing the blush that lights up your face. He quite likes that shade on you—likes being the one to bring it out even more. “So…”

You keep your gaze straight ahead. “So…?”

Azriel leans in, his voice low and warm, making your stomach flutter. “Do you sing that song for just anyone too?”

“No,” you let out a laugh, your hands cup your face but there’s no hiding the blush there. “I’m afraid that song was just for you.”

“Good,” he murmurs.

You turn to look at him, realizing his gaze had never left you. Your hands drop back to the porch railing. “Yeah?” you whisper, your own heart pounding, not sure what it was you were asking.

But Azriel seems to understand anyway. He can feel what you’re feeling, now fully aware and attentive to the bond humming between you.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his smirk softening into a genuine smile, his heart finally at ease.

A gentle warmth surges through the bond, reaching every shadowed corner of his heart and wrapping around his soul. It’s a feeling he could get used to, one he’s spent centuries longing and yearning for. It’s a feeling he’s searched for in all the wrong places, enduring the heavy weight of heartbreak after heartbreak.

But now, with you, he feels the weight begin to lift. After all the empty falls and broken promises, it’s finally, finally safe for him to fall.

a/n: you can't tell me Az & Cas don't have dad sneezes lol. Anyway, I really wanted to write a fic where Az finally feels safe with someone because he deserves to. I hope you enjoyed this <3

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444 @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human @mrsjna, @adventure-awaits13, @lorosette

@alwayshave-faith

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #acotar x reader #acotar x you #acotar x y/n

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mysticchoreography · 1 year ago

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PINNED

TOA Canon [Diviner for the Church of Seiros]

AUHGKLSDLKDSZJKDSKLKDslk JDJKLKDSEKDEKKEWK BWAHHHHH HAHAJLDLKKJK

ABOUT | INTERVIEW | Please kindly do not use small text! (post)

#ic post #ic: moon and stars above #ooc #ooc: it's late and yet here i am #threading: even in my dreams; all i do is gaze at the stars #supports: what i hope you see is... a better me #mission: may the stars guide the way #housekeeping: may be better #drabble: the stage is mine #events: join me for one song #dropped: am i fated to join the stars?#inbox: like a shooting star

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chosok-amo · 4 months ago

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hi I see you want a request! hb some angst to comfort !drunkgojoxreader where he always shows up drunk confessing his feelings but then acts normal when he’s sobered up. Reader is tired of mixed signals and ends up going on a date with someone when gojo happens to visit sobered up

you can do whatever you want if u happen to be inspired! Hope this helps you get out of your funk

“OH, MY LOVER IS DRUNK” : GOJO SATORU

you and him, you were supposed to be best friends— supposed to. but neither you nor gojo can't keep the feeling of falling. he tries to deny the feeling so hard that he has to drown himself with alcohol, the thing he loves the least, just to forget the feeling, only to come back to you every time he is drunk.

w/c 4.5k

warning : drunk! gojo satoru, non-sorcerer gojo!, angst.

p.s thank you for giving me a chance to write you something, and I'm sorry it took me long enough to write this :'), but i hope you enjoy it! (i don't think i make this angst enough for my liking)

fanart credit to the owner.

it was a tranquil night, the moon casting a soft, ethereal glow through your apartment windows, bathing the room in a gentle light. though the clock read 3:00 AM, sleep eluded you, your mind too restless to find peace. lying on your cold bed, you stared at the ceiling, each pattern and shadow playing tricks on your eyes in the dim light. the blanket was draped neatly up to your stomach, its weight a comforting presence against the chill of the night.

your hands lay flat on top of the blanket, fingers nervously tapping the back of the other hand in a slow, rhythmic cadence. the silence of the night seemed to amplify every tiny sound: the soft rustle of the sheets, the faint ticking of a clock somewhere in the apartment, the almost imperceptible hum of the city outside. despite the stillness, a storm of thoughts churned within you, each one keeping you wide awake and alert, as if anticipating something just beyond the horizon.

you were anticipating something, no— more likely, someone. that someone, neither your boyfriend nor your anything, he just likely is a more sinister thing, disguised as a best friend, unfortunately. sinister thing, you describe him, where a silver thread lies between you and him— a bright and bold, tale of your love, gojo satoru.

he is, my sinister thing’ you thought.

you were adrift, suspended in the air, with no destination, no specific place to call home. you existed in a state of limbo, neither firmly standing nor lying down, hovering in a liminal space. your presence was neither filled with love nor marked by the experience of being in love.

you were perpetually caught in a paradox, always existing in a state of “neither,” but never fully reaching a place of clarity or resolution. your existence was defined by an absence of definitive states or emotions, perpetually undefined and drifting, forever caught between the edges of presence and absence.

it was always waiting, waiting, and waiting.

just like how the night before, and before, and right now, waiting in your bed for him to knock— and when he does, you, mindlessly, like you're in ecstasy running a little by little in the middle of the night to open your door, without realizing there's another door you open— your heart.

stumbling, drowning in a sea of alcohol he hates, gojo satoru walks in. and you, like the idiot you are, guide him to your barely-fits-for-his-over-six-feet -ass couch, comfortably lying him there.

“careful,” you whisper through the night.

your warm hands meet with his cold ones, gripping you as if he's holding on for his dear life. you drape his body with a blanket, big enough for you to shield not only his physical form but also the emotions he holds for you, hidden beneath the warmth, hide his love for you, not that you need to know. gojo‘s blue eyes are warm, and dull as they indulge softly in the moonlight and gentle glow from your little lamp on the cover of your living room, appear soft and subdued.

you find yourself seated on the cold, hard floor, while gojo stretches out on your couch, facing you with a look of serene contentment. his handsome face is illuminated by a crooked yet mesmerizing smile, a testament to his charm even in his inebriated state. his hands, chilled and seeking, grip yours with a familiar desperation, yearning for the warmth you effortlessly provide.

this nightly ritual has become a part of your routine—gojo, drinking away his soul, stumbles through your door, his steps wavering yet purposeful. he collapses onto the couch, and you remain on the floor, the quiet observer of his vulnerable confessions. as he speaks of his love for you with a fervor that seems to swell with each passing moment, it’s as if he fears losing you with the break of dawn.

he loves like you’re the very essence of his existence, the heartbeat of his every moment. his affection is a force that shapes his world, a flame that burns eternally in his soul. to him, you are the embodiment of all his dreams and desires, the one who makes every day brighter and every night more meaningful. his love for you is not just a feeling but a profound truth that defines his very being.

when the alcohol fades and his clarity returns, he resumes his usual demeanor, leaving behind only the tender echo of his heartfelt declarations and the gentle imprint of his touch on your hands. he pretends, gojo satoru likes to pretend.

“always so beautiful,” he whispered, his smile fading as his eyes wandered over every contour of your face. he traced the delicate path of each freckle, every mole, and the subtle lines that marked the passage of time, memorizing every exquisite detail in his heart. his cold hand gently cupped your cheek, sending a chill across your skin that mingled with the warmth of his gaze, as if he were imprinting the essence of your beauty into his soul.

he draws your entwined hands closer to his chest, where his heart, in truth, has always belonged to you. from the very first moment you met, it was never his alone; it has been yours from the start. as your palm rests against his chest, you can feel the soft, steady beat of his yours heart, buried beneath his flesh—an intimate rhythm that pulses with calm and a tender, unselfish devotion.

a small smile graces your lips as you rest your chin on the couch, gazing deeply into his eyes and letting yourself be enveloped by their depth. “i’m in love with you,” he murmurs, his voice heavy with intoxicated. “so in love that i can’t remember a time when i wasn’t, as if my soul has adored you since the dawn of everything,” you listen to his heartfelt confession, witnessing the gradual collapse of his defenses, and your eyes shimmer, heart-shaped.

gojo chuckled softly, his voice thick with intoxication. “do you recall the first and last time we made love? your lips on my neck, since that day, your mouth has been nothing but heaven,” his words tumbled out in a drowsy, slurred cadence.

you, too, remember that day with crystal clarity; it is etched deeply in your mind, an indelible memory that clings to your thoughts like a cherished, haunting presence. each detail, every sensation, has become a permanent part of you, woven into the very fabric of your being. the memory of his touch and the sweetness of his kiss linger, a profound and enduring echo that remains with you always.

you still can feel his touch on your skin.

“of course you don’t know,” he whispered, his voice heavy with the weight of intoxication, as his thumb traced gentle patterns across your cheek. “and i’ll gladly take the blame for that,” he continued, his words slurred with inebriation, “i-i kissed your hair while you slept in the morning,” his giggle, light and childlike, bubbled up with a carefree delight. “i wonder if you ever knew.”

you shake your head gently, a small, small smile touching your lips, just a little. you wouldn't dare to open your mouth, oh, you wouldn't dare. to speak would risk breaking the spell of his drunken state, causing him to sober up and retract the love he has so freely and vulnerably shared. the thought of him withdrawing those tender confessions and retreating into the safety of his guarded heart is a fear too profound to bear. because at that time, it's all you have, his drunkenly confession.

so you remain silent, savoring the warmth of his affection as it envelops you, clinging to this fleeting intimacy as if it were a precious secret. afraid that when the dawn’s approach looms, threatening to sweep away the ephemeral beauty of his heartfelt revelations, leaving only the ghost of his love behind.

it's a frightening, haunting, spine-chilling sensation that grips you, filling you with an aching dread, so you remain silent. because maybe, in those three am confessions are your only salvation. just like a dark mirror to cinderella’s tale, your reality is sinking down from the ceiling, swallowing you whole when he sobers up when the sun hits your cheeks warm.

“oh, god, i love you so much. . .” he whispered, his voice laden with vulnerability as he clutched your hand tightly, pressing it against his chest. “this love i feel—it terrifies me. i'm scared for the love i have for you, it seems so powerful, like it could burn me alive or utterly ruin me. even so, i know that i’ll let it be, but fuck. . . i'm so scared.” his breath was uneven and strained, each gasp revealing the depth of his fear.

his eyes, gleaming with the weight of his emotions, flickered with a poignant brilliance before finally closing. as he drifted into unconsciousness, the full embrace of the alcohol took hold, and the tender confessions of his heart were swallowed by the enveloping darkness.

you remain in quiet contemplation, letting his heartfelt words gently seep into your thoughts. you extend your arm along the edge of the couch, laying your cheek softly against it as you gaze at gojo’s tranquil, slumbering face. his lips, tender and slightly swollen, and his cheeks, flushed a soft, rosy hue reminiscent of crushed cherries from the effects of the alcohol, form a serene portrait of vulnerability.

in the gentle light, his features are softened by the peacefulness of sleep, creating a stark contrast to the emotional intensity of his earlier confessions. the calmness of his face, so vulnerable and exposed in repose, contrasts beautifully with the passionate turmoil of his words.

as you watch him, the room seems to hold its breath, enveloping you both in a tender silence that honors the depth of the moment. the delicate interplay of light and shadow highlights the serene beauty of his sleep, allowing you to cherish the profound intimacy of this quiet, shared space.

when the morning comes, he'll sober up, and the alcohol will have faded from his system, washed away by the sunlight along with his love for you. he'll blame the alcohol in case he said anything foolish, and you? oh, you would find yourself blaming the moon, even the sun, because it's breath away the day for night to come, for casting hope into your soul, into your heart, and also crushing it at the same time in the harsh light of dawn. leaving you to grapple with the fragile hope that was both a blessing and a burden.

it was cruel, worse than cannibalism. you could have borne the agony of having your flesh consumed, but not the ravaging of your soul and heart, oh please, not my heart’ you would plead into the darkness as night falls. you were scared too, not because of loving gojo satoru, loving him is as natural as breathing, but because of the depth of your devotion— you are scared your devotion would turn violent. your devotion would make you believe him like a god, and he'll betray you like a man.

yet, despite the pain, you find yourself eternally awaiting the arrival of night, longing for those confessions whispered at 3:00 AM, even knowing they will leave you shattered by morning’s light. each dawn brings the same heartache, and today is no different.

you awaken to the insistent chime of your notification, your eyes fluttering open to the stark emptiness of your apartment. the couch where gojo once lay is now vacant, the space where he slept cold and unwelcoming. the blanket he used before now wrapped around you, carries no trace of his warmth. the comfort it once offered has dissipated, leaving behind only a hollow chill and the echo of his absence.

your grip tightens on your phone, the pressure biting into your hands, but it’s a mere shadow of the pain coursing through your heart. suddenly, the dam within you gives way, and a torrent of tears spills down your cheeks, cascading like a relentless river. the exhaustion of navigating gojo’s endless emotional games weighs heavily upon you, a suffocating burden that leaves you breathless.

you don't want anything, the only thing you want can't be bought with money. if i ask for your heart will you give it to me?’ you mock yourself. what a fucking loser.

“oh god. . .” you whisper, forehead touching the floor as you wailing in silence.

you feel foolish for clinging to the hope that, perhaps this time, he might remember, that he might repeat the tender words of the night before. yet, as each morning dawns with the same emptiness, your heart aches with the weary realization that your hopes have been in vain, leaving you to grapple with the sorrow of unfulfilled dreams.

the evening was settling into a serene quiet, your apartment softly illuminated by the warm glow of your lights. you were almost ready for your date, anticipation mingling with a sense of hope as you made final adjustments to your outfit. watching yourself in the mirror, you realize how dull your eyes are, losing their spark. after everything, you decided to bury your feelings beneath your flesh until only you know your love for gojo satoru.

a knock at the door disrupted your preparations, and when you opened it, gojo stood there, sober and uncharacteristically subdued. his eyes, usually brimming with playful energy, now reflected a deep, almost mournful sadness.

“hey,” he said, his voice softer just like always. he glanced around the room, his gaze lingering on the subtle details of your evening preparations—the carefully chosen attire, the delicate scent of perfume, and your eyes, those bright, beautiful eyes.

you moved through your bedroom, selecting accessories and adjusting your outfit, each motion a quiet ritual in the evening’s anticipation. gojo watched from the doorway, his gaze fixed on you with a deep, almost reverent intensity. his silence spoke volumes, a contrast to the usual banter that characterized your interactions.

gojo’s voice, tinged with an unexpected vulnerability, broke the silence. “where are you going?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours with a mixture of concern and hurt.

you hesitated, caught between the desire to protect both his feelings and the truth. his gaze, usually so playful and intense, now bore a raw, wounded quality. the gravity of the question hung heavy in the air, and you could feel the weight of the decision you had to make.

“i’m—” you started, but the words caught in your throat. you could see the hope flickering in his eyes, mingled with the pain of realization. you knew that this was more than just a casual question; it was a plea for understanding, for clarity amid his confusion.

he took a step closer, his usual nonchalance replaced by a genuine yearning to grasp the reality of the situation. “i just want to know,” he continued, his voice barely a whisper, “where you’re going. what’s tonight for you?”

you looked at him, your heart aching with the weight of his unspoken fears. the room felt charged with the intensity of the moment, every detail amplified by the quiet desperation in his voice.

“i’m going out with someone,” you finally admitted, your voice trembling slightly. “tonight is… it’s meant for someone else.”

the words hung in the air, their impact palpable. gojo’s face fell, the light in his eyes dimming as he took in the truth of your plans. he nodded slowly, the understanding settling over him with a heavy sadness.

“i see,” he said quietly, a bitter edge to his tone as he took a step back, giving you space. “i didn’t realize…” the finality of his words and the desolate look on his face were almost too much to bear.

you hesitated, unsure of how to respond, but before you could answer, his gaze wandered over you with a mixture of admiration and sadness. “you look…” he started, his voice faltering slightly as he struggled to find the right words. “you look really beautiful tonight.”

his eyes roamed over your outfit, the careful details you had chosen, and the way the light caught in your hair. there was a softness in his gaze that spoke of more than just physical appreciation— it was as though he was trying to hold onto every fleeting moment, every detail of this evening as if to etch it into his memory.

“you always look beautiful,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “but tonight. . .. tonight it’s different. you’re. . . breathtaking.” the sincerity in his words was palpable, mingling with the unspoken sadness in his eyes. he didn’t move, didn’t retreat from the moment. instead, he stood there, quietly observing, letting his admiration and affection fill the space between you.

“i didn’t mean to intrude,” he said softly, his gaze never leaving you. “i just wanted to see you one more time. before you go.”

the room felt heavy with the weight of his gaze, the emotional intensity of his words. you could feel the ache in his eyes, a mixture of admiration and longing, as he took in every detail of your appearance. the compliment, so genuine and heartfelt, seemed to hang in the air, a poignant reminder of the affection he still held for you.

“it's okay,” you nodded softly, gazing at him from your mirror with a little smile, kissing your lips. the date was meant to be an escape, a chance to move forward, but it felt like an endurance exercise.

your date was polite and engaged in conversation, but there was an undeniable disconnect. every word spoken seemed to drift past you, a mere backdrop to the whirlwind of thoughts that consumed your mind. the laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the casual chatter all felt hollow, lacking the vibrancy you had hoped for.

as the evening progressed, the sparkle of the city lights and the charm of the venue did little to lift the weight on your shoulders. the conversations felt superficial, the moments fleeting and unremarkable. you smiled and nodded in response, but your thoughts were miles away, tangled in the memories and the lingering presence of gojo.

you couldn’t help but replay the images of that earlier moment—gojo’s earnest eyes, the softness of his compliments, and the way his gaze had followed you with such unspoken longing. his presence had imprinted on your heart so deeply that everything else seemed to fade in comparison. the way he had watched you, the tenderness in his voice, and the painful silence after he had left all resurfaced in your mind, casting a shadow over every interaction of the evening.

the date dragged on, each passing minute feeling like an eternity. you forced yourself to remain engaged, but the thought of gojo’s unspoken words and the gentle way he had looked at you overshadowed everything. you were caught in a cycle of longing and regret, unable to escape the grip of your own emotions.

as you stepped out of the restaurant, the cool night air was a welcome relief from the stifling atmosphere of the evening. your mind was still heavy with the weight of the date's emptiness, and the city lights seemed dimmer as you walked towards your car.

just outside, by the entrance of the restaurant, you noticed a familiar figure leaning against a lamppost. gojo stood there, his posture relaxed but his eyes scanning the crowd with a determined focus. as your gaze met his, his face softened, revealing a mix of relief and something deeper.

there you are, beautiful, mellow you. walking alone looking pretty in that silk dress that you should be wearing for him, not the other man, him. seeing you so breathtakingly beautiful makes gojo satoru want to crash into every piece of you, and fuck, he swears to god, that's how stars are born.

“hey,” he said softly, pushing himself off the lamppost and walking towards you. the usually playful tone in his voice was replaced by a sincere warmth. “i thought i might catch you before you left.” you stopped in your tracks, a flutter of surprise and emotion rising within you. “satoru, what are you doing here?”

you're in front of him, eyes glimmering under the lamppost and the moon. gojo wants to run, to bury himself under the ground, or just tell you to stop looking at him with those eyes. stop touching me with your eyes’ he thought.

“i-i. . .”

even so, his eyes never leave yours, shaken as he tries to swim into your orbs. how its color slightly changes under the lamppost makes it even harder for gojo to speak as if the ground is a new language for him, and suddenly, he forgets everything he knows about gravity.

“please love me. .” he whispered, throat dry.

for a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes widened in astonishment. your heart is pounded with a frantic rhythm, faster than the fall of distant stars, yearning to escape its confines and find its way into gojo’s hands. it ached with a longing so intense that it felt almost unbearable.

the pain of desiring something so profoundly—something you’ve never truly known—made you question why your heart should yearn for a home it has never experienced. yet, despite never having been there, it cried out with an ineffable need to be held by him.

it was always his and never been yours since day one, but he already holds onto your soul with an unrelenting grip and your heart— your only refuge, is all you ever had to keep living. you can't live your life if all you ever had is just merely flesh and bone.

“satoru, are you drunk?”

“no—” he shook his head, fast enough to hold both your hands and bring them closer against his chest, where his heart was beating faster, also begging to be handed to you. “i'm in love with you, y/n. i'm sorry i always pretend like i don't remember in the morning, but please. . . i don't dare to, maybe if i love you less it would be easier for me to talk, but fuck—”

he paused for a moment, and in that suspended breath, your only fear was the possibility of him retracting his heartfelt confession. the weight of his unspoken words hung in the air, and you found yourself dreading the loss of such a precious revelation. the thought of him pulling back, of his feelings fading into silence, was the only shadow that cast fear over your heart.

so you shook your head, “no, don't stop,” you plea.

gojo swallows his pride, he feels pathetic. but he would bear the life long of feeling pathetic if it is meant to have your eyes on him, to have your skins and bones knit with his then so be it. “i love you—oh god, i fucking love you, in the purest, chaste, most victorian sense,” he says, laughing softly. “even a mere glimpse of your ankle might be enough to drive me mad.” you can’t help but chuckle along with him.

his hands enveloped yours with a desperate intensity, holding them as if they were the very essence of his longing. “i love you,” he breathed softly, his voice mingling with the whisper of the night breeze. “i want every single one of your tomorrows.”

he guided your hands closer to his lips, pressing a delicate kiss to your wrist, his touch both tender and reverent. his eyes locked with yours, revealing a depth of emotion that seemed to illuminate the darkness around you. the moment his lips left your skin, the faintest trace of coldness lingered, as if the warmth of his affection had left an indelible mark.

with a gentle but purposeful motion, his hands slid to your waist, drawing you nearer. his touch was both firm and delicate as he turned you around, guiding you until your back was nearly pressed against the lamppost. the soft glow of the streetlight bathed you both in a halo of light, casting long shadows and highlighting the closeness of your bodies.

in this intimate cocoon, the world seemed to fade away. the chill of the night, the warmth of his breath, and the quiet intensity of his gaze created a fragile moment of connection. his presence enveloped you, a promise whispered in the night air, as if he were claiming every future moment with you, even as the night deepened around you.

“please. . ..” he beg.

he leaned in, his face inches from yours, until his lips lightly brushed against your own. “please, love me,” he whispered once more, his voice tender and pleading. his warm breath caressing your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

the proximity of his lips, the softness of his words, and the gentle warmth of his breath all combined to create a moment of intimate vulnerability. his plea hung in the air, laden with the depth of his emotions, as he sought to bridge the gap between your hearts.

as the world around you seemed to slow, gojo’s gaze lingered on your lips with an intensity that made your heart race. his fingers, still resting on your waist, drew you even closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you. the soft glow of the streetlight cast a gentle halo around the two of you, accentuating the intimacy of the moment.

with a deliberate tenderness, he tilted his head slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation built like a quiet storm as his lips inched closer, brushing against yours with a delicate, almost reverent touch. the kiss was soft at first, a gentle exploration that spoke of deep longing and unspoken desires.

his lips moved with a slow, deliberate grace as if savoring every second of the connection. the initial softness gave way to a deeper intensity, his kiss growing more passionate as he pulled you even closer. the world outside seemed to dissolve, leaving only the sensation of his lips pressed firmly against yours. his hands cradled your face, his touch gentle yet insistent, guiding the kiss with a blend of affection and need.

the warmth of his kiss seemed to infuse every part of you, a melding of hearts and souls that transcended words. when he finally pulled away, his eyes still locked onto yours, there was a look of profound contentment and vulnerability. the kiss lingered in the air between you, a testament to the depth of his feelings and the fragile, beautiful connection that bound you together.

as you slowly pull away from the kiss, your lips linger near his, you meet his gaze with a fierce resolve. “if you ever mock me or play with me,” you say, your voice steady yet charged with intensity, “i swear to god, satoru, i’ll fucking hunt you down.” the words hang between you, your breath mingling with his, a silent promise of the depth of your commitment.

gojo’s eyes spark with a playful glint as he hears your words. with a mischievous smile, he leans in, giving your lips a series of soft, teasing pecks. “i won’t,” he replies, his tone light and teasing, but with an undercurrent of sincerity. “i promise.” his playful demeanor contrasts with the intensity of your threat, yet his gentle touches and warm gaze convey a deeper assurance.

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ghostarii · 2 months ago

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arlecchino likes slow kisses -- impassioned, battling, slow kisses, full of twirling tongues and silky moans. she likes to wrap a hand around your neck to crane your head back, nibbling on your lower lip and smiling at your whines. pinning you beneath her and keeping you at her mercy -- heat building between you two with ghostly friction and desperation. arlecchino likes to kiss you slow and build anticipation- to make you want it, to make you crave it, to the point you’ll brim your eyes with tears and try to guide her hand between your legs. you’re your prettiest when you beg and so she makes you do it again and again: huffing out breathlessly in between kisses.

she never gets tired of kissing you -- licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue and dragging sharp teeth along the muscle, nipping your lips and pressing your mouths together until they swell-- that’s priceless; and more than that, it’s intoxicating. it ignites a carnal, desperate flame inside of arlecchino’s chest to where she teeters on the edge of sanity. she’ll come to needing you so much that her touches burn, singing through the fabric of your clothes until they begin to practically hang on by a thread, perfectly falling off of your frame. she likes you completely bare: kissed by the moon’s illumination and unable to preserve modesty. she can consume you both literally and figuratively: drinking in and committing your bare purity to memory before defiling every inch of your skin in traces of her. bites and scratches and fingerprints and hickeys trail from your neck to the ends of your legs, lighting every part on fire until you burn white hot--and then, only when you’re writhing for some ounce of direct pleasure, she will fuel your fire to an uncontained blaze.

arlecchino likes slow kisses because she can taste more of you. slowly slotting her mouth with the puffy curvature of your pussy, parting the labia as her mouth opens, allowing her tongue to slip through and tangle amongst your folds. agonizing, slow, deliberate kisses have her eyes closed, completely focused and enamored in the taste of you. tonguing through sloppy, syrupy folds and drinking as much of you in as she can. nudging her nose against your clit as she swirls and spins her tongue around--acting as though she was a master player and you were her instrument, being strummed to death and eliciting the most beautiful chords of music. she takes her time in devouring you, ensuring that no inch goes untouched and untasted because when she makes her way to your pulsing, weeping entrance, her performance reaches its climax and you’re along for the song.

arlecchino likes slow kisses because they crescendo into a form of heat unfelt and time melts away between your legs. those kisses are a catalyst for an enlightening, gut-wrenching climax, that makes all the time lost so, so worth it.

#ʚ cins corner ɞ #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin x you #genshin imagines #arlecchino x female reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #arlechinno x reader #arlecchino smut #arlecchino #reposting w working tags :(

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fieldofdaisiies · 1 year ago

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Lucien…

Lucien curling his arm around your shoulders, his eyes closing, drawing in a deep inhale, humming, "This is where you belong. Right here. In my arms."

Lucien, leaning against the doorframe, eyebrows raised teasingly, drawling, "Needy?"

Lucien grinning, "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss too."

Lucien, guiding you by your hips while you are on top, panting, "Fuck, just like that, little fox. Making me feel so good."

Lucien, kissing your hair, saying, "You smell like a breath of fresh air."

Lucien, titing your chin up with his index and middle finger while you kneels on the ground in front in him, drawling, "That’s my good girl."

Lucien growling, "You’re mine and now let everyone hear it," while he pushes into the hilt.

Lucien, his thumb stroking over your chin, the tip of his length positioned at your entrance, saying in a sensual voice, "Open up my little fox, let me make you feel good."

Lucien whimpering and groaning when you give him head.

Lucien yelping when you flick his hear after he teased you.

Lucien laughing from the bottom of his heart, the sound rich and pure, when you say something funny.

Lucien crying when talks about his past or when you share something emotional about your past.

Lucien whispering, "You are my mate," begore kissing you gently but nevertheless deeply.

Lucien, his hand holding your above your head, thrusting into you, growling, "Don’t hold back, let them hear you. Let them hear how good I make you feel."

Lucien, holding the door open for you, politely offering, "After you, my lady."

Lucien pulling out a chair for you, smiling and saying, "My lady."

Lucien, sitting on the bed in a sprawl, letting his gaze roam over you, commanding, "Strip!"

Lucien raising a brow when he scents your arousal, purring, "Is it my cock or my tongue that you want?"

Lucien smiling, "This flower field reminds me of you - never-ending beauty."

Lucien holding you in his arms, squeezing you tightly, mumbling "I love you. I love you so damn much."

Lucien, hoisting your legs over his shoulder, nose teasing your clit, tongue driving deep into you, groaning, "You taste absolutely divine, my mate."

Lucien holding out his hand out for you to grab, "Sunshine."

Lucien, brows arched in an almost cocky way when turning to you, sleeves rolled up, standing in a lake, a fish in his hand, smirking, "Impressed?"

Lucien dragging his thumb over your lower lip, pushing inside, smirking, "Such a pretty little mouth."

Lucien breathing hard and fighting the tears when you trace your index finger over his scar, telling him how beautiful he is.

Lucien kneeling between your thighs, gaze heated and trained on your centre, purring, "You’re always so wet for me."

Lucien thrusting into you from behind, fingers threaded into your hair, tilting your head back, growling, "Grab the headboard, little minx."

Lucien kissing your knuckles, saying, "You’re re perfect the way you are - I love everything about you, every small detail about you. I love you."

Lucien, admiring you and whispering to himself, "Truly the luckiest male alive."

#I escalated a little with Lulu #I just love him okay?#a lot #lucien vanserra #lucien vanserra x reader #lucien x reader #lucien x you #lucien vandaddy #acotar #acosf

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dark-moonlust · 5 months ago

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Cockwarming Minotaur PART 2: Movie Night

This series started from this imagine of mine.

Pairing: Minotaur x f!human reader

Summary: you and Balen spend a quiet night together. He is gloriously naked and you have that urge to take his dick in your mouth. Your Minotaur is even more demanding.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, Minotaur huge🍆, oral(male receiving), cοckwarming, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is part of the “Cockwarming Minotaur” series. Find all the parts here.

It was a quiet night. The full moon hung up in the sky, its rays filtering through the thin curtains. The bedroom was dimly lit, the TV playing in the background. Your minotaur boyfriend Balen was resting on the bed against the headboard, hands behind his head as he watched TV. He was naked, every part of him exposed. His massive frame made the bed appear small. His muscles rippled and his eyes burned with desire. As naked as he, you were lying sideways on his hairy thigh cradling his thick cock in your palms nowhere interested in watching the screen.

You had a much better alternative.

Balen’s massive shaft stood proud and pulsing, the head leaking precum. You loved his cock; it was huge and filled with veins, the scent of his musk intoxicating. Mouth watering, you licked your lips and placed your hands on his thighs. Slowly, you closed your lips around the wide cockhead, tongue swirling around it, tasting the salty pre-cum that had gathered there. Your boyfriend moaned, his powerful muscles tensing beneath your touch.

“S-slow, slow…hn…” Balen rumbled, his large hand cradling the back of your head. “Or this will end sooner than we both expect.”

“But…hmp… I want to devour you.”

He chuckled at that. “Later. For now I want your warm and wet mouth around my cock while I watch TV.”

“Fine, you horny Minotaur,” you whispered teasingly kissing his balls. “I’ll warm your cock for as long as you like.”

Angling your head, you returned to his perfect dick and took him deeper, inch by inch, feeling the stretch in your jaw. Balen groaned, hips thrusting lightly against you. No matter how much you’d tried, you could only accept just one third of his shaft. He was too long and thick to accommodate. The tip of his cock kissed the back of your throat and you swallowed, gagging slightly at the fullness.

“That’s it, little mate,” he growled, his voice husky and thick with lust. “How good you take me. So good… hnn…”

Your hands wrapped around the part of his cock you couldn’t fit in your mouth and he groaned pleasurable, his large hand cradling the back of your head, keeping you there. You caressed and cupped his swollen balls as you tried to take him deeper, despite the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You were cockdrunk, having him so deep in your mouth sent tingles to your belly, making you incredibly wet for him.

You stayed there, cockwarming him with your mouth and at some points, Balen would gently guide you to pull off his cock with a slick sound so you could breathe properly. Meanwhile, you peppered kitten licks on the leaking cockhead and all over his sac, feeling the weight of his huge round balls in your small palms that almost overflowed with them.

You filled your mouth with him again, his cock stretching your lips. The feeling of his shaft filling your mouth, the taste of him, the way his heavy balls rested against your jaw made you all the more determined. So you stayed there, his cock down your throat without pulling out an inch.

“Fu—uhnnn…ck, you’re amazing,” he sighed, his breathing strained. “Warming your mate’s cock, such a good mate.”

You pulled back to breathe, and he caressed your face, his fingers wiping away the drool that had gathered at the corners of your lips. Then with a gentle nudge of his hips, his cock filed your mouth again. Balen threaded his fingers through your hair, then drew you back, watching the string of saliva connected from your lips to the swollen head of his shaft before thrusting you back down to swallow his cock. He did it again and again, watching at you, his eyes gleaming with lust.

“Pretty mate,” you heard him say throatily.

“Balen…hmnnp,” you could hardly speak with the throbbing minotaur cock in your mouth.

“What is it, love?” Balen asked, guiding you off his cock.

You took a sharp breath. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen. “I wish I could take all of your cock.”

His mouth formed an adoring smile. “You are perfect the way you are. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you said, licking blatantly a stripe from base to the tip of the cock. Your mouth took him in again, and he let out growl of satisfaction that vibrated through you.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Take it all,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

Relaxing your throat, you took him as deep as you could, your hands cradling the rest of his cock like an anchor.

You were aware of Balen moving. He reached out with his free hand and grabbed his phone.

“Gods, you look so beautiful with my dick in your mouth,” he said as he snapped picture after picture. “Your lips stretched, throat full of me… perfect.”

Balen took pictures of you in various angles, groaning at the sight of you. He did that often, he had a full album of indecent photos of you both doing unhinged things that were of course, for his eyes only. You stayed obedient, nursing his cock. With his dick in your mouth, you felt powerful — and a little cockdrunk, your mind hazy with lust.

You wanted him begging and out of control.

So you started pumping him, placing soft, kitten-like licks on the cockhead before diving down on his shaft, so deep that the depth made you gag, tears spilling down your cheeks. Still, you didn’t stop.

With each second you deepthroated him and each tempting swirl of your tongue, Balen’s breathing grew more and more ragged. His thighs quivered, his hairy chest heaving. His cock pulsed in your mouth, the salty pre-cum increasing. You moaned around his length; his moans sent shivers through your own body.

“Annn… close—agh… I’m close,” he groaned, his hips moving in small, desperate thrusts. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

“Want you—mmpff—” you breathed, tongue licking a vein from the base to tip. “Want you to feed me your cum.”

“Swallow it all, mate. Want you to swallow every— drop.”

The words sent a torrent of heat through you so you sucked him harder, tongue working feverishly. Your vision blurred, but all that mattered was Balen. He shuddered hard and tensed to stop his hips from thrusting into your mouth, his cock twitching violently in your mouth. He groaned, clutching the sheets, tearing them as he shot hot, thick ropes of his cum inside your throat.

Fondling his balls, you swallowed fervently.

It was too much but you didn’t want to waste a drop, you wanted his taste across your tongue and down your tummy. He rode his orgasm for what felt like minutes and when he finally pulled out of your mouth, you’d sucked him dry. No cum spilled. Your chest was heaving, your lips swollen, your throat sore. But it was all worth it because Balen had that dreamy look on his handsome bullface that was worth everything.

Cradling your head gently, he kissed you in his own unique way, thrusting his tongue in your mouth, tasting his seed everywhere. His fingers brushed away your tears as he whispered how precious you were and how much he loved you. Then, he went to the kitchen to bring you a bottle of water and helped you take a few sips.

“Thank you, little mate. That was incredible— no more than incredible,” he drawled. “And I shall reward you for it.”

“Balen you don’t have to reward me. I wanted to suck you—”

“And I want to worship your pretty pussy till morning. I want you to writhe and clench around my tongue, your thighs squeezing my head.”

Did you enjoy? What would you like to see next? Reblogs and comments are more than welcome 🖤 Follow for more monster smut!

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luverine · 12 days ago

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ᖭི༏ᖫྀ Luan (Mothman) x fem! reader

How Luan got his name. // nsfw // MDNI // scratching // breeding // cockwarming // no proof read // word count: 0.8k

“You like the moon?” you ask softly, pointing towards the glowing orb that casts a pale light, making the cold night air shimmer.

The creature beside you lets out a soft chirp, a high-pitched sound that seems to tell agreement.

You hum, taking in his ethereal form- tall, dark, and lean with sleek fur. His eyes, wide and the deepest shade of ruby, reflect the moonlight. He’s gorgeous.

“You’re kind of like the moon, ya know,” you murmur, your gaze trailing over him. “Lunar, dark, quiet… breathtaking.”

A shuddering breath escapes your lips as he steps closer, the heat radiating from his body enveloping you despite the chill in the air. He lowers his head so that it's above yours, warmth seeping into your skin.

He traces his clawed fingers along the curve of your neck to your cheek, it tickles making you giggle. Turning to face him fully, you rise on tiptoe and nuzzle into the soft, downy fur of his neck.

“You always feel so nice. You’re always so… magnificent.” You let out a quiet laugh. “just like the-.”

A sudden thought brightens your eyes. “Luna! That should be your name.”

He tilts his head, a deep, rumbling whine vibrating through his chest. He glances between you and the moon, a silent request for something that feels sincere.

“Okay, okay,” you soothe, rubbing your thumb gently against his cheek. “Something more personal, more… you.”

——

The next morning, you immerse yourself in your small, beloved library, pouring over historical texts and old-time lore. Mythology and folklore have always been a passion of yours. Page after page, book after book, until you stumble upon the literature “Luan Zhi”- beautiful, virtuous wings… also referred to the moon.

“Perfect!” you exclaim, feeling a rush of excitement. This name would suit him perfectly. You can’t wait to share it with him!

——

That evening, you find him perched in his usual spot. Your fingers brush over his wings, marveling at the blend of black and white fuzz that feels softer than silk.

“I found a name for you,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. He’s already watching you, those dark ruby eyes gleaming with curiosity.

He lets out a soft, encouraging chirp, urging you to continue. You can see the anticipation flicker in his gaze.

“Luan,” you say with a smile. “Wings of the moon… my Luan.”

His eyes widen, sparkling like diamonds as he absorbs the meaning. In one fluid motion, he pulls you against him, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. His hold is tight, desperate, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

A deep, resonant purr emanates from his chest as he breathes you in, his mind clouded with need. He’s intoxicated by the warmth of your scent, memories of being inside you flaring up with an almost painful intensity. His claws sink into your sides, drawing a soft yelp from your lips.

Luan pauses, concern flitting across his face as he checks if you’re unharmed. You nod, fingers threading through the thick fur at his nape. Your cheeks burn with arousal, a slick heat pooling between your thighs.

“Luan,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “I need you…”

His length, already hardening, presses insistently against you. Without hesitation, you peel away the fabric that separates your bodies, baring yourself to him. His fur spikes with arousal as he takes in the sight, his claws gently tracing over your wet folds, drawing out soft whimpers from your lips.

You’re grinding desperately against his touch, soaking his fingers with your slick. It’s too much for both of you; your desire has reached a high. With a trembling hand, you grasp his thick, curved shaft, guiding the pointed tip to your entrance. Slowly, you sink down onto him, the stretch of his girth drawing a moan from deep in your throat.

His claws dig into your hips, pulling you down onto his lap as he ruts up into you, the force making you gasp. Your chests are pressed flush together, your nails tangling in the plush fur at his neck. His thrusts are urgent, each one driving you higher, closer to the edge.

“I’m going to come- oh, gods, please, Luan, come inside me!” Your words are muffled against his fur as you clench around him, your climax crashing over you in a wave of bliss. He groans, a guttural sound, as he spills deep within you, his grip never wavering, holding you in place to fill you completely.

Breathless, you collapse against him, your head resting on his shoulder. “I love you, Luan,” you murmur softly, glazed eyes fluttering shut. His arms remain wrapped around you, keeping his softening length buried in you, possessive and gentle, as if he could keep you safe from the world forever.

And in this moment, in the quiet of the night beneath the watchful glow of the moon, you know he will never let you go.

A/N: Welp that’s Luan idk what else to do for him… anyways likes, reblogs, comments appreciated ᖭི༏ᖫྀ

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aeth-eris · 5 days ago

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★ moon signs | how they express empathy ★

★ aries moon: empathy for an aries moon is fierce and immediate, like rushing into a burning building without hesitation. they feel others' pain as a call to action, their heart igniting with a need to protect, defend, or inspire. their empathy doesn’t linger in quiet reflection; it’s raw, honest, and bold, often expressed through decisive action. they show up when it matters most, offering strength and courage to those who feel small, reminding them they are capable of overcoming anything. ★

★ taurus moon: taurus moon empathy feels like a warm blanket wrapped around you on a cold night. they offer comfort through presence, creating a steady, grounding space for others to feel safe. their empathy is tactile, expressed through gentle acts of care—a shared meal, a soothing voice, or the simple act of staying close. they don’t rush to solve or fix; instead, they hold space with patience, letting you know you’re valued and understood, just as you are. ★

★ gemini moon: gemini moons express empathy by weaving words into connection. they listen with curiosity, their heart sparking with every story shared, finding the threads that link their experiences to yours. their empathy is light and conversational, making you laugh through tears or helping you reframe pain in ways that feel lighter. they may not dwell in the depths, but they bring clarity and perspective, reminding you that life is full of possibilities even in your hardest moments. ★

★ cancer moon: empathy for a cancer moon is an ocean—vast, deep, and all-encompassing. they intuitively feel the emotions of others, often carrying your hurt as if it were their own. their empathy is nurturing, like a mother cradling a child, offering unconditional love and protection. they instinctively know when you need comfort, whether it’s through a soft hug, a kind word, or simply being there. their heart creates a safe harbor for others, a place where feelings can be honored and healed. ★

★ leo moon: leo moons express empathy like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, warm and affirming. they see your pain and immediately want to remind you of your strength, showering you with encouragement and love. their empathy comes in bold gestures—a compliment, a heartfelt reminder of your worth, or simply standing by your side when you feel alone. they lift others up by reflecting their light back to them, making sure you know you’re seen, valued, and deserving of joy. ★

★ virgo moon: virgo moon empathy feels like someone noticing the little things you didn’t realize you needed. their care is quiet and precise, often expressed through practical help—a problem solved, a task taken off your plate, or advice that’s exactly what you needed to hear. they show empathy by making your life easier, creating order in the chaos. their love is thoughtful and grounded, reminding you that healing often starts in the small, overlooked moments of care. ★

★ libra moon: libra moons express empathy through harmony, seeking to restore balance when others are weighed down. they listen with open hearts, reflecting your emotions with kindness and understanding. their empathy is graceful, often expressed through acts of mediation or support, helping you see beauty even in struggle. they make you feel heard and validated, as if your feelings belong in the grander picture of connection. their love is the soft hand that guides you toward peace when the world feels overwhelming. ★

★ scorpio moon: scorpio moon empathy is intense and transformative, like staring into the depths of a deep, unshaken well. they feel your pain as if it were their own, diving fearlessly into your darkness to help you find your way out. their empathy is raw and profound, unafraid to sit with the most painful truths. they offer their presence as a sanctuary for vulnerability, holding space for emotions others shy away from. their love is a reminder that even in your darkest moments, you are never alone. ★

★ sagittarius moon: sagittarius moons express empathy through optimism, offering their belief in your strength when you’ve forgotten it. they encourage you to see the bigger picture, helping you reframe struggles as opportunities for growth. their empathy feels like a warm fire on a cold night, comforting but also igniting hope. they may crack a joke to lift your spirits or invite you to explore new perspectives, reminding you that life is full of adventure even in hardship. their love is an open road, reminding you that brighter days are always ahead. ★

★ capricorn moon: capricorn moon empathy is steady and unshakable, like a mountain offering shelter against harsh winds. they express care through reliability, stepping in with quiet strength when others falter. their empathy may not be overly emotional, but it’s deeply practical—they’ll help you build stability in moments of chaos, offering guidance and structure. their love is a reminder that you’re not alone in carrying your burdens, that there’s always someone willing to share the weight. their presence is grounding, a constant you can rely on no matter how hard things get. ★

★ aquarius moon: aquarius moons express empathy with clarity and vision, seeing solutions where others only see problems. their care is intellectual, offering perspective that makes your struggles feel smaller and your dreams feel closer. they may not sit in the heaviness of emotions, but they’ll inspire you to rise above them, reminding you of the bigger picture. their love feels like a cool breeze on a sweltering day—refreshing and unexpected, pushing you to think differently. their empathy is a light in the distance, guiding you toward hope when you feel lost. ★

★ pisces moon: pisces moon empathy is boundless, like water flowing into every crack and crevice, touching places no one else can reach. they feel your emotions as their own, often carrying them without hesitation or complaint. their care is soft and intuitive, expressed through quiet acts of kindness and unwavering presence. they love without limits, offering compassion that feels like a whispered promise of understanding. pisces moons remind you that it’s okay to feel deeply, that even the hardest emotions hold beauty. their empathy is a gentle tide, washing over you with healing and grace. ★

★ book a reading ★ ★ masterlist 1 ★ ★ masterlist 2 ★

#astrology #astrology observations #astrology aspects #astro observations #moon signs

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undeadcowboybutch · 3 months ago

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Femme Princess who’s a dominant bottom X her Butch Knight who’s a subby top. ( Full situation below the read more!! )

The Princess watching on with half-lidded eyes as her Knight settles on her knees next to their bed, breath catching in her throat as she begins lavishing her sweet sovereign with attention; pressing warm, full-lipped kisses to the inside of her ankle, her calf, her knee. Slowly working her way up towards her thighs as she so gently spreads her legs open.

The Knight groaning unabashedly as her Princess threads long fingers through her short curls, pulling none too gently as she guides her Knight’s mouth where she needs it most. The Princess works her hips in time with her tongue, all but grinding against her face as thick, molten pleasure builds inside of her with each fluid movement.

With a single tug, the Knight knows to change her attention — sucking her Princess’ swollen clit into her mouth and tracing the stiff shape of it with the tip of her tongue. It sends her careening over the edge, thighs held tightly against either side of her head as she bucks upwards with the force of her orgasm and rides out the resounding waves of euphoria that follow; aided by gentle kisses and touches that her Knight is all too eager to supply.

Anticipation continues to build. The Princess — heart still pounding and mind fogged with heady desire — grabs her Knight by the shoulders and ushers her into a messy kiss. She tastes herself on her lips, can feel the telltale stiffness pressing against her. As she bullies her tongue into her Knight’s mouth, she reaches for the base of her and aligns her cock with her entrance.

Still so gentle despite her more than apparent arousal, her Knight pushes inside of her — gasping into her mouth at the tightness that surrounds her. Fuck, she’s so close. She was already dripping before her Princess even laid a finger on her and now — with her lady whispering sweet words into her ear, gleaming canines nipping at her earlobe — it’s all too much.

Kiss-swollen lips part and her Knight groans audibly when she comes, grinding deep inside of her even as her knees threaten to give way beneath her. She captures her Princess’ lips and lets the sound of her appreciation reverberate through both their bodies, following her Princess as she lays back into the mattress and settling her weight over her.

Even as the sun sets and the moon begins to bathe the world in pale blue light, they remain in each other’s arms — pressing lingering kisses to heated skin, doling out affection in the form of tender touches and whispered words . . .

#lesbian #butch4femme #femme4butch #wlw #sapphic #wlw post #Knight X Princess #Royalty #First time posting lesbian smut on tumblr i’m nervous 😖#My Writing

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just-a-ghost00 · 5 months ago

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Their feelings and intentions towards you

In this reading we will try to figure out how the person you’re thinking about feels about you and what their intentions are. There will be three sections for each group :

1. How do they feel for you currently?

2. What are their intentions?

3. Advice on how to deal with this connection

The decks I will use are :

The White Numen tarot for the first two sections

The below the surface oracle deck and the Threads of fate deck for the last section

Group 1 - Saturn 🪐

1. Their feelings - knight of cups, king of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, 4 of pentacles, 4 of swords, knight of wands

This person is very serious when it comes to you. Their feelings are authentic, genuine. They're not playing games with you. They respect you and value you for who you are. They are grounded in how they perceive you and what they feel for you. This isn't just a whim, a little crush that will eventually fade away. No, this is solid and meant to last in their eyes. This person would tend to hide all of that deep beneath because they're unsure of how you feel toward them. They also feel very protective of you, intimidated in some way because their opinion of you is very high. You check all their boxes. They feel attracted to you both emotionally and physically. The numbers 4, 44 and 12 could be meaningful in this connection. They like to quietly stare at you when you're not looking, especially when you're working. They find your motivation and dedication very attractive. They feel safe with you and they can see in your gaze that you give importance to what they have to say, what they bring to the table. They feel curious, even more so when you're guarded around them.

2. Their intentions - Black Numen, King of pentacles, ace of swords, 10 of swords, The Emperor rx, The Moon

They would love to communicate with you and be honest about what they feel. But they don't think they're in a good mindset to do so. This person is facing a lot of hardships currently. They don't feel like they'd show you the best of them if they were to come forward right now. They don't want to look weak or out of balance in front of you. This person intends to keep their distance for now and hide from you the pain they're in. They wish to hide from you that an important cycle of their life is ending. They're waiting for this cycle to end to find an opportunity to be clear about what they want from this connection. They want to move on but they're aware that they need to heal first. This person is really mature and wouldn't do anything that would hurt you. They would rather be in pain than voluntarily cause you sorrow.

3. Advice - Higher perspective, 13 Dumbo Octopus - stop chasing, 33 spotted eagle ray - Let it go

Keep your distance from this person and give them the space to figure out a solution on their own. There's nothing you can control in this situation except for how it impacts you. If you keep pushing this person, you might get an outcome you won't be happy about. So leave it to them and the Universe. You have to trust that this person will take the best decision for them, no matter the outcome and you have to respect that. What you can do is also asking your guides for advice before making any irrational decision. By keeping your distance, I feel like you'll see this situation with more clarity. It's like taking a bird's eye view of what's going on. This person will come to you naturally when the time is right.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Group 2 - Sun and Moon 🌞🌛

1. Their feelings - page of swords, The Emperor, 6 of wands, Judgment, 5 of swords, 7 of wands

Not gonna lie, I don't get the best vibes for this group. It feels to me like this person wants to control you and keep you under their influence. They feel in control and pretty positive, because they know that you like them or that you can't deny them anything. For instance, if this person is your boss, they know that you wouldn't cross them or you wouldn't leave because you can't. So it gives them a lot of power and they're quite smug about it. They feel victorious, like a conquerer that has slain the beast. They have you under scrutiny. They watch your every move. They feel proud about themselves but also about you to some extent because you follow their lead well or they think you take after them. It's like they trained you well. They feel very combattive and possessive over you. They would litterally fight for you. If anyone comes near you, this person would snap. I get the feeling for some this person has acted behind your back to deter some people that were interested in you from interacting with you. They've withheld information to keep you in a state of neediness. They would bend the truth to their advantage. Like not telling you that a certain person likes you or that an opportunity has been presented to you. If it's business related, they speak in your name but not in your best interest. Like, imagine there's a superior that wants to entrust you with a project but since they're not sure if you're available or skilled enough, they go to this person for advice. And this person blatantly lies about your schedule or your skills, like "oh no this is too early for them, they're not ready for such a responsibility because this and that". And since they're influencial, nobody questions their input.

2. Their intentions - The Emperor, queen of cups, page of cups, The Star, 8 of swords, The Hermit

This is so twisted. Without any surprise, their intentions aren't the best for you. They want to keep you under their control and they intend to put you in a position of feeling compassion and gratitude for them to blind you and make sure you never leave their side. In some twisted way, this person "loves" you. Or at least they think they do. But really, they only love themselves and they want to use you to make them feel better. This person is tired of being alone at the top and they kinda want to create you in their image so that they're not alone and they have someone that gives credit to their BS. They hope that you can be their partner in crime. I'm getting serious god complex vibes and narcisstic tendencies from this person, this gives me the ick. They want to isolate you so that they can keep you to themselves like you're some kind of prized possession. One more trophy on their list of accomplishments. They're the kind of person that has weird fetishes. Like the kind of people that only entertains relationship with foreign people to convince others they're not a racist when clearly all they do is degrading this person and their culture. They're a fake friend, fake ally. They would litterally compliment you then manage to bring you down in the span of a few sentences. Like "oh yeah this person is so clever. Well people like them can only be that if they want to rob us of our jobs". Honestly they're so up their own arse the only thing they intend to do is to try to make themselves feel better by making you look pitiful. Ew.

3. Advice - The Wildling, Ask Body, 31 flying gurnard - Ask yourself if it's worth it

Cut the cord. Ask a healer to cut all ties with this person. Get them banned from your energy and life. Cleanse your body, spirit, heart from this person's presence. Set yourself free. Reclaim your power. You don't deserve what they put you through. Fight for your independence, your honor. Be smarter than them. Learn to see through the masks and read through the lines. Notice the patterns and swiftly move through the spider web they've been trying to weave around you. Invoke your spirit animal's help to kick them out of your life and protect you from their malevolent energy. The panther spirit could be relevent to you. I ask spirit to watch over you and keep you away from this person's evil doings.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

Group 3 - Waxing gibbous moon🌔

1. Their feelings - Queen of cups, king of swords, The Magician, 10 of cups, 7 of cups, 2 of wands

Thank God we have a better energy in this group. They feel pretty postitively towards you. They feel hopeful and curious. They admire you and want to care for you. They have a lot of feelings for you. They consider you as a good option for them, especially because they think you'd be a good partner to have a family with. They envision a future with you. They are expectant when it comes to you because you keep them on their toes. You feel easy to read to them but also like a mystery they can't wait to unravel. They feel like you're magical and their destiny. They feel lucky and happy to be in your life and have you in theirs. They feel proud because you're a good person and they think they had a role to play in that. If group 2's person feelings were really toxic, this person only has your best interest at heart. They think of you highly and want to uplift you in every way they can. They want to support you, to celebrate you, to elevate you. They want to bring value to your essence and help you be the best version of yourself because they think you have a lot of potential. They view you as their equal but also as the missing piece to their puzzle. They feel like you would complement them and balance out their energies. They feel like you'd make a good team and that every moment spent with you is an adventure they're happy to experience. I have a very good feeling about this group.

2. Their intentions - 4 of wands, The Fool, Queen of cups, The Magician, 8 of cups, Page of cups

Out of the three groups, this one has the highest romantic potential. For some of you, this person wants to offer you commitment, possibly a proposal but if not they definitely want to have a lasting partnership with you. They intend to communicate their feelings and intentions, to make the connection evolve into something more solid. They're not afraid to make the first step and start anew with you, to discover you in a different setting, to get to know you even more. They intend to manifest you, to manifest a relationship with you. This person wants to move on with you and take things to a new level. They want to openly love you. They're tired of games and superficial relationships. They want something meaningful and they intend to work for it. This person is ready to be honest and authentic, to let you see them as they are, without any mask nor restraint. They wish to show you the good nature of their feelings and the best side of them. They want to appeal to you, to seduce you and win your heart and affection. Honestly they're so sweet. They could ask you out on a date, possibly a travel where there's water involved. I can picture people going to the beach, a water park or going kayaking on a river. Walking by a body of water during the Summer. For some I'm getting that this person has calculated everything to be able to cross paths with you on a specific day. And they would be like, "oh group 3! Fancy meeting you here, I didn't know you'd be there. Mind if I join you?" when clearly they've been waiting for this opportunity for days and they knew you'd be there, who you'd be with, when to approach you. For some I'm picking up on a sports event. Like a race or something. And you participate and they nonchalantly offer to be your team mate as if they weren't actually hoping for no one to be with you so that they could get closer lmao

3. Advice - The Alchemist, Power, 2 hermit crab - finding shelter, 43 koi fish - don't take life too seriously

Spirit is saying "go for it" ! They ask you not to resist what's happening because this is something both of you have been manifesting on a subconscious level. Both of you were hoping for such a connection that would be so carefree and uplifting. A connection where you wouldn't have to mind guess or be afraid of what the other's gonna do. They're saying that you can trust this person to be good to you. Some of you might think this is too good to be true or that your relationship might be "inappropriate" when it's just your destiny and the Universe's answer to your prayers. They say "there's nothing to be ashamed of" and "don't worry about others" because clearly you deserve it and that's all that should matter. Don't overthink this and just surrender to the blissful moments you may experience with them. Keep being optimistic and open to the energies around you. Be confident about your ability to be appealing to this person and keep them interested. Be confident about your personality, your looks, your skills. Because this person will only have eyes for you. Trust your intuition.

#pick a card #pac reading #love pac #just-a-ghost #tarot reading #oracle cards

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susansontag · 5 months ago

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my guide to lesbian anime both canonic and subtextual

(won’t include every lesbian anime ever, this is a personal list)

the canonic-gay section:

revolutionary girl utena

nothing before or since has ever done it like this. trigger warnings for everything imaginable. loads of homosexuals in this one. gender commentary, fairytale allusions, a lot of kids who are having a hard time growing up and moving beyond their pasts. sword lesbians.

flip flappers

the problematic favourite, in that there’s at least one uncomfortable sexualised shot each episode (roughly speaking; some have none and one has even more, unfortunately), so be warned. but at its heart flipflap is about repressed cocona going on adventures with outgoing and expressive papika, and their exploration of various fantastical lands/inner worlds of people they meet. hugely inventive and pretty, and a core thread is cocona discovering she’s gay.

aoi hana (‘sweet blue flowers’)

the comfort lesbian show, with not a romantic relationship at its heart, but a friendship between two childhood friends who meet again, both of whom are gay (though only one realises this during the show’s run, as it’s based on a manga). one of them dates an upperclassman at her school, and there’s various gay and bi side characters. it’s just very wholesome, lovingly animated, sweet and sometimes painful stuff.

bloom into you

I controversially do not care that much for bloom into you, but as the best, high-production, non-skeevy yuri show in years - that is based on a manga by a woman - it’s worth mentioning. late-bloomer girl dreams of romance, though has never felt it, and finds affinity with a girl who similarly is disinclined to date. that is, until said girl says she fancies her. genuinely moving exploration of developing gay identity at times, only downside is my personal disinterest in the black haired girl. some weird ‘heightened’ moments that feel inauthentic and titillating do arise, but it’s very few - to the point where some would disagree with me on my reading of it, I’d imagine.

sailor moon

the bits which the lesbians are in, etc. it’s a classic. I haven’t watched all of it myself because I don’t care much nor do I have nostalgia for sailor moon, but it’s one of the most notable examples of a butch/masc lesbian in anime, so that’s nice.

o maidens in your savage season

nerdy teenage girls who are part of a literature club make it their quest to discover sex and dating, in various ways (unfortunately, not all of them dealt with well… teacher/student foolery that is fortunately abandoned before it gets worse but is nonetheless handled with mixed results, imo). mostly though it’s hilarious, sweet, silly, and there’s a gay girl in it, but I won’t spoil which one. adults predating on children is also handled much, much better in another of the show’s storylines, and I do appreciate it for trying to tackle that difficult subject matter.

oniisama e (‘dear brother’)

an oldie, based off a shoujo manga by one of the greatest (riyoko ikeda). there’s a central relationship to root for (better articulated in the manga), but it’s mostly just what if we were messy depressed lesbians at an all-girls school and we were also melodramatic and mean as hell.

revue starlight

what if we were at an all-girls dramatic arts school and engaged in utena-like duels to become the top performer? main implicitly gay couple with canonic side gay couples. it’s quite cute. also worth watching if you like takarazuka in any way (prestigious all-female japanese theatre troupe), because the main conceit of the school is very much based on that idea.

the gay-themes section:

sound! euphonium (season one)

in which director naoko yamada’s awesome legacy of writing lesbians and then saying “who’s to say though, ha ha” continued (she did it already with a side character in tamako market). this one is known as the gaybait to end all gaybait, but hear me out: the first, and best, season, is not only a fantastic self-contained story with many great characters and plot points, but it’s main character is undoubtedly lesbian-coded and even has a love interest you can argue about. frankly I think she’s gay-coded throughout the whole show (even when she dates a guy for two minutes), but this feels very “I wanted to focus on this compelling relationship between two female characters but the adaptation’s success meant we had to revert back to the source material in later seasons”. what we got from this is perhaps my favourite lesbian anime of all-time, following utena.

a place further than the universe

this show is about four girls who join an expedition to antarctica, and what if I told you they’re all great, believable dorky teenage characters, and they exist in a well-written and thematically satisfying show… and there’s nice lesbian implication between one of our adult female protagonists and her old (deceased; not a spoiler) friend who was the main teen girl’s mother. there’s some sad here, obviously.

puella magi madoka magica

the well-known, much beloved deconstruction of the magical girl genre is also pretty gay, as it happens (so gay in fact it started a trend of gay-coded pink+black magical girls). it’s not a particular favourite of mine, but it’s visually one of the most notable anime productions ever, so it’s well worth seeing just for that.

NANA

the 2000s manga+show about the two twenty-year-olds who meet on a train and discover they’re both called nana is also pretty gay! to the point where there are heated fandom debates about nana komatsu’s (pink one) possibly being a lesbian. they both have many relationships with guys, but it’s their bond that forms the heart of the show, and the bisexuality (or, who knows, homosexuality) of the leads is pretty undeniable. to the point where you’ll get blasted on the nana subreddit if you try and suggest otherwise.

the wild-card section:

keep your hands off eizouken!

this is a show about three oddball girls who start a club to create anime, but have to pose as the film club instead for various reasons. it’s not even subtextually gay, I just personally think that all three of the leads are gay and the whole thing feels like a very female-centred creative endeavour. hugely fun watch, and very high production values. you wouldn’t regret seeing it.

skip & loafer

these two you see here are side characters. this show is actually about mitsumi, the greatest female protagonist of this kind of shoujo-esque slice of life show, who moves from the countryside to tokyo for high school. here she meets many a misfit, including the pretty blonde and the nerd girl who have undeniable chemistry and form one of the most popular pairings in the show. it’s just a good time.

chihayafuru

I’d get in trouble for this, because the primary romance factor in the show is a famed heterosexual love triangle with chihaya at its centre and her two male childhood friends at the side. but go with me on this. chihaya is oblivious to romance and feminine socialisation, she is obsessed with a card game and with her equally dorky dark-haired rival… she’s anime’s greatest autistic lesbian lead. and you get more than what you pay for, because the two boys I mentioned? a lot of gay stuff going on there too.

the big-screen-cinematic section:

the adolescence of utena

revolutionary girl returns in the sequel of a lifetime, slightly older (sixteen, say) and gayer than ever, to escape this place with the love of her life. cue the impromptu dance sequence (with stars and rose petals)!

liz and the blue bird

the naoko yamada directed gay cinematic universe continues with a gorgeous film starring two of the side characters from sound! euphonium’s second season (not necessary to watch beforehand). that means it has plausible deniability whilst being so crazily gay it’s almost some kind of joke. this is a highly detailed, laser-focused character study of two girls in their high school band club and their ever more strained relationship. yamada never misses.

the summer

this is korean! it’s about two girls who meet at school and start dating in secret, what happens as they grow up and move to seoul, and how their relationship changes and strains when met with the conservatism of contemporary korean society. it was sweet and like aoi hana above for japanese girls, felt pretty frank to the experiences I’d imagine young korean lesbians might have.

puella magi madoka magica: rebellion

if you’re a fan of the show, you probably don’t talk about this movie. sure, it’s a visual feat, sure, it’s insanely entertaining, but it’s also frustrating and upsetting and potentially undermines the neatness of the original as a perfectly-crafted story. BUT. kyouko/sayaka becomes all but canon in it, and everything else aside, that’s all that really matters. but you should definitely watch the show beforehand.

#idk who I expect to interact with this but if there’s anyone on here who is interested lol #moth.txt #anime ranking #lesbian #yuri #anime recommendations

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lordhermesworship · 4 months ago

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Lord hermes

Lord Hermes, swiftest god, friend of man, friend of mine, hear my love for you.

Agetor, guide of mine, sharp eyed son of Maia, you are great in love and kindness are you in speaking cleverness. Hermes Promakhos the champion of contests, the one who helps those in exersise. the one who watches over me while I run a mile in gym, the god who makes sure I'm not sore enough after to walk home in their honor.

The god who watches over mail men, the god who watches over the guard dogs of homes, the swiftest god who watches over me playing uno. May the world sing your praises, may you know the praises I sing for you, Agreiphonte, the god who is clever to outsmart a giant who has lived for centruys, Enodios who watches over me while I stay in a backseat of a reckless driver, the god who I mutter praises in the dead of night infront of the moon, and aswell infront of the sun, the god who I hold dear to my heart, and the god who I hold a photo in our wallet, I sing your praises in this post, and of this blog.

You are amazing, loved by all, clever god.

the god who sits with me at my most vulenarble and most rough, I am not a dimond in the rough at all, but I am still valuable to you, even as a dirt rock. the god who sits with me along a river while the trees are listening.

the god who guides the dead, the god who holds a sharp blade but with no ruthlessness, the god who guides alive and dead, the one who holds a sheep knowing their demise, but still loves it although. The clever one who may know my fate through pebbles, the god who will know my fate before i know mine, the god who is lovely in all Ephiphets and who i love through all aswell. The god who knows I have shizophernia, and may be soon to a close ending of a thread and yet still blesses me with company and thinks of me in the dead of night, the god who knows I may remain silent infront of foes and friends alike, May you know my love!

@temple-of-hermes, may you know of this.

#hermes devotee #hermes #hermes deity #hermes worship

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moonsaver · 8 months ago

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A dance, A death, A dream,

for humanity slumbers for the final rest, and dreams after the final rest.

➸ On the neverending stage of Penacony; there lies a mysterious masquerade that serenades those whose dreams stretch further than the expanse of the night sky. In this masquerade, the marble floor extends infinitely, and the windows are dimly lit by the full moon. Several hands extend to you. Whose do you take?

➸A/n; NOT IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER AS TITLE SUGGESTS. my writing's gotten a bit rusty, and this is majorly inspired by the Acheron and Black swan dance. Please read it with a grain of salt. 2.2k words. Yandere themes, gn reader but they're implied to wear heels, so just yassify your self insert. Bad writing because I've been out of it for so long.

—————

A death

Scars, calluses, and a plethora of secrets remain buried on and under the skin of Blade's hand. He gently and firmly guides you out of your seat, and into the centre. The grip of his hand is firm on your waist, and the warmth seeps into your skin.

“I've seen you, many, many times..”

He whispers into your ear, as the music begins. The rasp of it sends chills down your spine, forming a few goosebumps along the way.

“We've scarcely met.” You reply,

“In my dreams.”

You stay silent. He continues,

“The long thread of destiny lingered around you. Our souls were tied.”

He turns you, and pulls you in again, your back pressed to his front. He leans down in an instant and whispers into your ear again,

“You waited for me.”

The clicks of your heels coincide with his agile footwork.

Blade remembers the same dream, played over and over in his mind. The bite on your jugular, the hand over your nape, the red blood staining his teeth like wine.

“You didn't leave.”

Your heart picks up. You close your eyes for a momentary relief that never comes. You feel your body tense, and your lungs slightly constrict.

“I.. didn't mean to.”

His grip only further tightens on you, and he pulls you in closer. The spinning almost leaves you dizzy, or perhaps it's something else?

“You left. Intentions seldom matter.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

He stays quiet. His hands make gentle work, and gracefully guide you through the steps.

“those threads.. all came together and formed a tapestry of us.”

There were a multitude of them, although more monotone in nature. White occasionally graced the vibrant red thread, but was sooner stained with a murky black the further it went, infecting the red with its impurity. The vibrancy dimmed to a dull, dreary maroon.

“Some of them..”, he continues, his rough fingers snake around your wrist, bringing it up to his lips, where he tenderly kisses the inside, “..were tied around your wrist.”

“Around your waist..”

You turn again, your back presses into his chest momentarily,

“Braided into your hair,”

He pulls you in, leaning close into your face, to the point your noses almost touch,

“..wrapped around your throat.”

To you – it's like the dance halts for a moment. Something wrong happens.

His tone is warning, bubbling over the edge,

“You were mine.”

He turns you again, and roughly pulls you in, knocking your breath out of your lungs. Your shocked eyes meet his.

“You are mine.”

Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears. Blade pushes you around, almost mocking the gentleness and grace the dance is supposed to exude, stripping it of it's vulnerability like the harsh snap of a bear trap over the tender leg of a rabbit,

“I've pined, longed and stained you. I've ripped you apart and put you back together. Do you think it matters whether you left intentionally?”

Your lungs struggle to fill completely, you almost stumble from the harsh and swift movements Blade forces you through, and you stutter trying to get any word out,

“Yingxi–! Wait!”

He pulls you in one last time, your face buried into his chest,

“You can not leave. Not anymore.”

The music halts to a break.

The dance stops.

His breath fans over your neck, the constricted space between you two rebounding the warm air. His teeth graze your jugular.

“Our flesh is tied. Struggle all you want, but we are intertwined further than dried blood over a wound.”

And this is how it is meant to be. Your hand on his weakness. His mouth on your heart.

The music starts again.

—––––––

A dream

Sunday's familiar gloved hand wastes no time wrapping around yours. He flashes you a smile as you give him a look.

“There are far too many spectators present tonight.”

You sigh, and smile.

“Of course. I'll do my best.”

“Thank you. As will I.”

His hand settles on your back, settling into the slight curve, and you straighten up, muscle memory kicking into action.

“Tonight's crowd mumbles and scatters to mystery as a moth akin to a flame. Dreams are not enough to quench their curiosity.”

The dance starts, and you relax after the first few steps, synchronising effortlessly with him,

“However, tonight's realm extends far beyond a dream.”

This was new.

Sunday always answered your questions about Dreams in a shapeless, vague manner. He often said it was to protect you.

This time, it was a warning.

“How so?” You ask. You don't expect him to go beyond surface level.

“Prime System Hours are during Midnight. A beautiful time.” He gently turns you, and brings you in,

“And why is that?”

“At this time, dreams become heavy. The memoria is dense enough to tear the thin membrane between reality and illusions.”

His wings slightly flutter. You feel almost hypnotized.

“The Dream realm and parts of The Reverie merge and collide. It bizarrely stabilises the lavish, shared dreams.”

You blink at him, slightly confused.

“And at this time, it is also easy to awaken from one's dreams, or sleep too deeply.”

You suck in a breath. A vision flashes into your mind.

Sunday stands across the empty ballroom. The candles are blown out. The windows creak with the gentle air of the night. The deathly pale light of the moon illuminates the side of Sunday's face.

Wake up? Sleep? Dream?

You breathe out, almost as if your soul had been snatched out of your body and harshly shoved back in.

“Guests confuse their dreams and reality. They believe it's time to awaken, when reality seems pleasant, and dreams become bitter. Memories and presence blur together in an incoherent puzzle.”

He swerves you effortlessly, muscle memory keeping you from stumbling. But this time, your mind feels hazy.

“By the time they feel their consciousness return, they've already deeply penetrated into the dream realm.”

You blink again, and you're back at the same place. Except, this time, Sunday is closer. He takes your hand, and pulls you in. The emptiness of the ballroom is almost frightening, especially due to your confused and hazed state,

“As to whether they've woken up or not, relies solely on their ability to distinguish Reverie and the Dreamscape, which blurs more with the effect of the memoria.”

His voice echoes in your head with clarity, but your eyes blur the two figures, the contrast inducing dizziness in you to the point where you're afraid you might even fall,

“As for you..” He continues, golden eyes gently grazing over your confused and hazy expression, a smile stretching out onto his eerily perfect face,

“It's not time to decipher that yet.”

The silhouette of Sunday's fingers snap over the pale backdrop of the moon.

You open your eyes.

Sunday is standing before you with a warm smile. The candelabras are still burning. The crowd applauds you two. You breathe heavily, unsure of what has happened, your body suddenly zapped of energy, exhaustion straining your muscles.

“You seem to have overexerted yourself.”

Sunday's gloved hand trails up your back to your shoulder, guiding you gently back into the crowd, towards an empty table.

“Come now. The dust of this ballroom may be dulling your senses.”

Dust?

You blink for a moment, head slightly hanging as you collect yourself.

Sunday breathes out an ‘o’, and then chuckles softly.

“Do not mind it, dear”,

Sunday eyes the creaking windows. It has been a while since they were repaired. The room may need to be renovated. The dust on the floor is reminiscent of all the people that one witnessed your first dance with Sunday. The lack of it was always a reminder of your time with Sunday, the dust clinging to your heels instead. He stares towards the empty hall, where you dream of an everlasting dance.

“It is my mistake. I was thinking about something else.”

–––––———

A dance

“What makes you think I'd really want to dance with you?”

You ask, almost disgruntled. Rightfully so, too. The blonde man had been continuously pestering you throughout the night, asking you to accompany him. For a dance, a walk through the garden, a visit to the food table. Finally, he'd asked you to strike a bet with him, if it meant you'd at least spend an iota of your time with him and solely him.

“I have my ways, you know?”

His agile fingers flick and swerve a coin between his hands, tossing and turning it skillfully. The tablecloth slightly crinkles under the movement of his arms,

“I'm not betting, by the way.”

You say, pausing for a moment to confirm if he's listening. His eyes are intent on yours. You continue,

“If you have to go so far just to dance with someone, aren't you better off just giving up?”

Your gaze lands on the coin for a moment, and you continue watching it with interest. At some point, you force yourself to look away from the coin he was toying with, and take a sip of your drink. You lean back into your chair.

“Like I said, I have my ways. What I really want from you after all this time.. isn't it tempting? Don't you want to know?”

He tosses the coin into the palm of his other hand, and encloses it, before opening it. The coin vanishes when he opens his hand. Mirroring you, he leans back into his seat, although his body language is much more open than yours.

“making bets is easy, isn't it? But it's more trustworthy than pulling a few strings behind your back, right?”

He gets up, and languidly walks over to you. He leans down slightly, his sunglasses slightly skewing enough so that his vibrant Signoian eyes bore deep into yours.

“And for you.. I've thought about an offer that's taken me a while to cultivate. Join me for a chat on the Balcony?”

You think for a moment, and hesitantly ask,

“..Why not talk here?”

Aventurine only casts a side-glance somewhere in the distance.

“Prying eyes, sweetheart.”

He extends an open hand to you. You slowly place yours in it, with a self-assuring sigh.

“Penacony's relationship with the IPC has been quite bitter. Even our reception wasn't ready to welcome us.”

The air of the night sky was cold, forming subtle goosebumps on your skin. Various clinks and muffled conversations could be heard from behind you, the glass door blurring the view of everyone inside.

“Not even my friends were allowed to enter the dreamscape except me. How lucky, right?”

He says, sarcastically. His eyes continuously gauge your face for any expression and hint as to what you feel.

“You’re a little too quiet.. am I not interesting enough for you?”

You stay silent for a bit too long. Aventurine knows what you're going to say next.

“Listen, that night..” you start, your voice gradually softening at the remembrance of the memory,

“Don't.” He cuts you off.

Neither of you speak. You open your mouth to, but close it after being unable to decide on what to say.

“I mean, you don't have to remind me.” His languid tone returns, but you don't believe it was the same as before.

“I know everything ended that night.. I didn't think you were so averse to blood.”

You stare at the bubbles in your drink, rise slowly from the bottom of your cup to the surface, and pop. You don't know when, but the background of joyful conversation and ballroom music fades into distant screams, ones that have haunted your dreams ever since then. Aventurine continues,

“It won't hurt to.. act one last time like it used to be, right? Just for one night. It's a masquerade, and everyone hides who they are for a moment's time of detachment. Their past, their decisions, their mistakes. All of it is buried for a single night.”

You hear the shuffle of his stiff jacket as he moves closer to you, hesitantly moving your gaze to him as you steel yourself.

“Just one last time. For old time's sake. As lovers from the past.”

His hand extends out to you. His other hand is behind his back, his grip tightening over a coin.

Heads, or tails?

You take his hand with a sigh,

“Just once. Never again.”

Aventurine smiles. Luck has always been on his side. If it works well, then your expectations will never be honoured. His greed is fatally more important to him than your wishes. It won't be the last time, as far as he's concerned.

The coin shines under his palm, the moonlight creeping through the gaps between his fingers hitting the metal just right, but neither of you catch the glint. Your eyes are trained onto the main floor, and his are trained onto you. The coin decides both of your fates.

And Luck has always been happy to write it in his favour.

—————————

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