#yes i said something but in more of a ‘here’s my experience and here’s what other groups I’m in have to say about this concept’
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Lost In The Woods (And Feelings) - William Eklund
Summary: Y/n and her best friend, hockey player William, go on a week-long camping trip despite having zero experience. As the days go by, Y/n realizes she’s in love with William but believes nothing can happen between.
Words: 849
Y/n had no idea what made her to agree to this.
Camping. A full week of camping.
She and William had been best friends for years, ever since they met back in Sweden. And even after he moved to San Jose for his hockey career, they had managed to keep their friendship intact. FaceTiming at odd hours, sending each other stupid reels, meeting during any kinds of holidays. All that became a new part of their daily routine. And somehow, in between their late-night calls and playful teasing, they convinced themselves that going on a camping trip together was a brilliant idea.
It was not.
“Are you sure you know how to set up a tent?” Y/n asked, arms crossed as she watched William struggle.
“Of course,” he said confidently, before glancing at the tent bag. “I mean… how hard can it be?”
It turned out to be very hard.
“William, that’s not where the pole goes.”
“Yes, it is.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Are you a camping expert all of a sudden or what?”
“I don’t have to be an expert to know that the tent is not supposed to be collapsing,” Y/n protested, stepping back just in time to avoid being caught under the falling mess.
William groaned, rubbing a hand down his face before turning to her with his best innocent smile. “Okay, well, time for a different plan.”
Y/n rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “You’re cute,” she muttered under her breath, not realizing she had said it out loud until William shot her a smirk.
“What was that?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly, turning away to hide the blushing.
After what felt like hours and with the help of YouTube tutorials, they got the tent set up. It still leaned to one side more than the other, which made Y/n secretly question its stability.
That night, they sat by the fire, eating burnt marshmallows because neither of them had the patience to cook them properly. The air was cool, stars lit up the sky above them, and for a moment, Y/n let herself pretend that this was just their life.
Just the two of them, away from everything, no worries about distance or careers or the inevitable goodbye waiting for them at the end of this trip.
“This is nice,” William said, stretching his legs out and tilting his head back to look at the stars.
Y/n hummed in agreement. “Even though we are world’s worst campers in history?”
“Especially because of that.”
She smiled, leaning her head against her knees. “I don’t think I’ve laughed this much in a long time.”
William turned his head to look at her, his expression softer than usual. “Me neither.”
The way he was looking at her made Y/n’s stomach flip, but she forced herself to push the feeling away.
As the days went by, Y/n found herself slipping into a dangerous kind of comfort.
They got lost on a hike. Twice.
"Are you sure we’re going the right way?" she asked.
"Of course I am," William said, though his eyes were filled with uncertainty.
"That’s what you said twenty minutes ago, and we ended up in the same place," Y/n pointed out.
"Fine. I’ll check the GPS - oh."
"What?"
"There’s no service."
Y/n groaned. "Great. We’re going to die out here. With no water and food."
"Relax," William said, placing his arm around her shoulder. "Worst case scenario, we have to eat berries and live in the woods forever."
"Oh, fantastic. That was totally my life plan."
He grinned. "Could be worse. At least you’re stuck with me."
And that was the problem.
The more time they spent together, the more Y/n realized she didn’t want to be stuck with anyone else.
But she also knew nothing could ever happen between them. He lived in San Jose. His life was there, his career, his future. She was in Sweden, and as much as she wanted to believe in something more, reality was much different.
On their last night, as they sat by the fire, Y/n found herself staring at the flames, lost in thoughts.
William nudged her gently. “You okay?”
She forced a smile. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
“About?”
She hesitated before answering. “How things are going to go back to normal after this. You’ll go back to San Jose, I’ll stay in Sweden…”
William was quiet for a moment. Then, he shifted slightly, turning to face her fully.
“Would you ever move?”
Y/n was taken aback. She turned her head to look at him, trying to read his expression. “Move where?”
He shrugged, but there was something careful about the way he asked. “Anywhere.”
Y/n swallowed, her heart pounding. “I don’t know. Maybe. If the reason was good enough.”
William held her gaze for a second longer before he let out a small, almost nervous chuckle. “Good to know.”
Y/n wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but as he reached over and squeezed her hand lightly, she wondered if maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t as alone in her feelings as she thought.
#william eklund#william eklund imagine#william eklund one shot#william eklund writing#william eklund x reader#san jose sharks#san jose sharks imagine#san jose sharks one shot#san jose sharks writing#san jose sharks x reader#nhl one shot#nhl writing#nhl imagine#nhl players imagines#nhl imagines#nhl x reader
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Rook as a companion fic, scene excerpt: Spite learns how to paint
Scene written with my Rook Calais as the eight companion. Read more about him here!
Scene is a takeout of a larger Rookanis fic that I'm writing so this is a bit of an experiment. If this does well I'll post a few more scenes on here!
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Cal was a few minutes into his painting exercise when the door of the pantry opened and a sleepy Lucanis came out. “Oh, hello. You’re back already.” he said, surprised. “Yeah.” Cal said, a little short. Lucanis frowned, cocked his head, but didn’t inquire further, walking over to the kitchen counter for coffee first. Of course. “Here, looks like you need it.” he said, coming over after finishing brewing coffee for both of them and putting the cup next to Cal. Cal couldn’t hold on to his anger in the face of such a kind gesture, smiling gratefully at Lucanis. “Thank you, Lucanis.” “You’re welcome.” Lucanis smiled and took a seat on the table next to Cal. “I thought painting was supposed to be relaxing.” he pointed vaguely at Cal’s tense frown. “Usually it is. Today I’m just trying to keep the demons at bay.” Cal sighed, deflating a little. “What?” Spite chimed in. “I’m not doing anything!” Cal chuckled. “Sorry, Spite, I didn’t mean you. I more meant my personal demons. Bad thoughts.” “What bad thoughts?” Lucanis asked. “Did you not have fun last night with Emmrich?” “Oh no, it was great. I had a lovely time.” Cal said. “Perhaps too lovely.” “Talk to me.” Lucanis said, openly looking at Cal.
“Everything was perfect, Lucanis. Exactly as it should be. But I ruined it with my feelings.” Cal sighed. “Emmrich was very clear on the arrangement. It was going to be one night only.” “Right. But.. you felt different.” Lucanis said. “I foolishly thought we had something special. He and I always talk so easily, make each other laugh, understand each other in a way no one else does.” Cal sighed. “And I guess I was dumb enough to think maybe he felt like that too. So when we got back this morning I asked him if he really was set on it being a one time thing. That I was open to it being more than that.” he took a sip of his coffee, letting the hot liquid settle his nerves a bit. “And he rejected you.” Lucanis concluded. There was a little contempt in his frown, but it quickly disappeared. “I’m sorry.” “Thank you. I suppose it’s my own stupid fault though.” Cal said. “I knew the terms.” “Don’t be so hard on yourself. What you said is true, you and Emmrich are usually like butter and toast. I can’t begin to guess why he would reject you, but I know that what you feel isn’t stupid.” Lucanis assured him with a gentle smile. “Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be.” “I guess. But the rejection hurt more than I like to admit. It made me feel.. small. Like I wasn’t enough. That’s why I’m here, painting the feelings out. That’s why I was frowning so hard.” Cal smiled sadly. “It’s hard to feel useless when you’re creating something.”
Lucanis looked a little lost on what to say, but Spite had a word of wisdom as usual. “Useless? No, never useless! Create in spite of what he said. Prove your worth. But you are already enough. Like pennies in a jar.” Cal laughed a little. “Thanks Spite.” “He has such a way with words.” Lucanis smiled when he saw Cal smile as well. “He’s right though. You’re never useless. Always enough. You bring joy with your presence, your smile.” “Thank you. Both of you.” Cal smiled warmly. “I really appreciate the support. I’ll be fine. Just need to get over myself for a bit.” “And painting helps?” Lucanis asked. “It does. It’s calming. I like the feeling of the brush on the canvas, thinking of what colours to use and mix, plan out a painting step by step.” Cal explained. “You can try, if you want?” “Yes, try!” Spite was clearly excited. “Sure, why not?” Lucanis said, indulging him. “I should warn you though, I don’t have an inch of artistic talent.” “It’s not about talent, or about what you make. Its about expression. As long as you’re conveying what you’re feeling, it doesn’t matter how ‘good’ it is. If its worth doing, then its worth doing badly, too.” Cal smiled, Lucanis surprised by that little bit of wisdom at the end. “I suppose you’re right.” he said. “Well, I suppose it can’t hurt to try.” “What do you want to paint, you think?” Cal asked. “You.” Lucanis said, honestly. “How I see you. Well, I mean, I’ll try.” “Oh, okay.” Cal said. “Then I’ll paint you, if that’s alright?” “Yours will be better.” Lucanis smirked. “But it’s the thought that counts right?” “It is.” Cal agreed. “Can Spite use objects in his latent shape?” “Yes, I can if you are near! I want to paint too!” Spite proclaimed with his usual smirk. “Hold on, I’ll get you set up.” Cal said, grabbing a canvas and putting it on the table for Spite to use. He put his older brushes there for him, the ones that wouldn’t suffer much for a bit of abuse, the hairs already starting to split. “There you go. Just dip your brush in water first before you grab paint.” he said, Spite eager to do so. It must have looked strange for anyone walking in, Cal and Lucanis painting, and a third canvas being assaulted by a floating brush. But Cal actually found a sense of peace in it, and the bad thoughts left him as he kept looking at Lucanis’ face for reference. The portrait was turning out quite nicely, and he couldn’t help but feel curious as to how Lucanis’ painting was going. Lucanis kept looking at him too, Cal smiling whenever their eyes met. There was something to it, he found, feeling the stirrings of something beneath the surface at Lucanis’ slow smile. Or was that just because he was still emotional from this morning? He probably couldn’t really trust his own feelings right now, but it was nice to take his mind off of this with someone he liked and trusted. Even Spite seemed to be having a good time, happily painting away. At first the strokes were big and aggressive but he seemed to hone in now, scribbling with a smaller brush. “What are you painting, Spite?” Cal said, seeing him so focused on his canvas. “Home.” Spite said, and the longing in his voice was clear. “Can I see?” Cal asked. “If you want, yes.” Spite said. He still seemed a little awkward but Cal was glad for the trust that was clearly returning after their earlier mishap. He came over to look at Spite’s painting, surprised to see how well he’d managed to represent the fade with colours and shapes, even if they were more abstract than how a humanoid would have done. “Spite, that’s beautiful.” Cal said, taking in the painting. Lucanis joined him, curious to see it as well. He seemed surprised, eyebrows rising. “I had no idea he could do this.” “I love the colours you used, very expressive.” Cal smiled when he saw Spite’s giddy grin. “I like painting!” Spite proclaimed with enthusiasm. “Giving shapes and colours to feelings and thoughts!” he wiggled excitedly. “I want to paint more!”
“Of course, here I have another canvas you can use.” Cal said, giving it to Spite, who was as happy as a child with a new toy. “I’ve never seen him like this.” Lucanis said, almost in awe as they returned to their own canvasses. “He’s so happy, so calm.” “We all need a hobby to express ourself.” Cal smiled. “Even spirits.”
“I wonder what he did before to express himself.” Lucanis said. “Can I see how you’re doing?” “Sure. It’s not finished by a long shot, though.” Cal said, standing aside to show Lucanis his painting. Lucanis took it in with a quiet look, smiling when he looked at Cal again after. “You’re very talented.” “Nah, I just practised a lot.” Cal said. “And you don’t even have a face yet.” “But I can already see it’s going to be me. The shapes, the stance, the essence is already there.” Lucanis said. “It’s going to be beautiful, I can tell.” “Thank you.” Cal smiled, flattered. “Can I see yours?” “No.” Lucanis said, quickly. “It’s.. nowhere near as good as yours. I am.. a little ashamed.” he admitted. Cal chuckled. “How many times have you painted in your life?” “The last time I painted was as a young boy.” Lucanis said. "It was with fingerpaint, and me and Illario started a war with it instead of painting our canvasses."
“Right, and I've painted every day, since I was four years old. So don’t put that pressure on yourself. Just have a good time.” Cal smiled. “Comparison is the thief of joy.” “You are just full of wisdom today.” Lucanis said, smiling.
Cal focused on his own painting for a bit, seeing Lucanis do the same, but he gradually seemed to smile wider, Cal curiously looking over. “What is it?” “It’s a mess. I don’t think I can salvage this.” Lucanis gave in. “It’s like a child made it.” “You’re too hard on yourself.” Cal said. “No, it’s fine. I’m just going to have to accept that I’m not an artist.” Lucanis sighed with acceptance. “I tried.” “Come on, just let me see.” Cal said, Lucanis stepping aside to let him look. Cal didn’t want to laugh, but he had a hard time keeping his grin contained when he saw what Lucanis had made. There was something of a face there, he had to give him that. The colours were unmixed, primary only, so his skin was red, his eyes blue and his hair yellow, a little orange where it touched his skin and making it look like spaghetti. He put his hand in front of his mouth to hide his smirk. “This..” he said, taking the canvas and presenting it to Lucanis formally, holding it in front of his chest. “Is modern art.” he saw Lucanis start to grin, finally breaking his own composure and laughing as well. Their joined laughter filled the kitchen, Cal having to wipe a little tear once they calmed down.
“It really is a disaster, isn’t it?” Lucanis sighed, chuckling and shaking his head. “No, no, it’s not a disaster.” Cal said, hiccuping. “I can see the shapes. That’s definitely a face. Everything is kind of in the right place, too.” “You’re being kind.” Lucanis said. “It’s ugly.” “It makes me smile.” Cal said. “And I love it for that.”
“You’re sweet.” Lucanis said, his eyes warm. “But I think painting is definitely your thing. Not mine.” he gave Cal the canvas he’d been working on. “Here, a gift. If it makes you happy, you should keep it.” “I will. I’ll look at it every day and remind myself that this is how you see me.” Cal smiled.
“Well, don’t do that.” Lucanis chuckled. “I didn’t even get your hair colour right. I don’t know why I didn’t just use white.” he subconsciously touched Cal’s hair, Cal looking at him with surprise at the familiarity. Lucanis seemed to realize his mistake after a moment or two, taking his hand back to himself. “Forgive me.” he mumbled. Cal smiled when he saw Lucanis fumble slightly.
“You’re okay.” he said. “Do you want to try again? The painting I mean.”
#dragon age#dragon age the veilguard#datv#lucanis dellamorte#rookanis#dragon age fanfiction#dragon age veilguard#lucanis dragon age#Rook as a companion
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Puppy Love
ValenFics
Relationship: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes x Reader
Fandom: Marvel
Request: No
Warnings: Fluff
Word Count: 861
Main Masterlist: Here
Marvel Masterlist: Here
Summary: Bucky was a skirt chaser in the 40’s; this is just a fact. Bet you never heard about this tale from the era though.
Consider Donating: Here
1942
You would think that someone as smooth and cool as Bucky would have trouble getting a date. He had been with plenty of dames, charmed dozens of ladies. So why was he having such a hard time with this one girl?
This one girl in question; Rebecca’s totally swinging friend. There was a major problem with it too. Rebecca refused to help him land a date with her because she was her friend. Any time she would come by their apartment, he tried to be there to welcome her in.
Sometimes he thought that she was interested in him. If Bucky let her into the apartment to hang out with Rebecca, she would brush her hand across his chest as she passed. When he would walk her and Rebecca to the door after they were done, she would press a kiss to his cheek.
James would offer to walk her home, talking the entire four blocks back. If he saw her in town, he would offer to hold her shopping, or walk her around. Bucky would just so happen to find out her shift at the diner that she worked at and would bring her flowers on her birthday.
And each time, he thought that this might be his chance. This might be the time where he could ask her out. But then, the other instances happen. She would ignore him when she came in, going straight to Rebecca’s room and promptly shutting the door. Other times, if he offered to walk with her and hold her shopping, she told him that she was just about to head home anyways, or that she really did not have much to carry.
It was these times Bucky questioned whether or not she was as into him as he was into her. Because each time that he thought she was, and was about to ask her on a date, something would happen to disparage that. He just could not take it much more. Which is why he was currently on his way to her apartment that he had walked her home to a hundred times before with flowers in his hands, and an open heart.
Knocking on the door, Barnes waited patiently for it to open. Instead of her, it was her dad. A big military man that stood eye to eye with the boy. As steady as he could, Bucky started. “Hello, sir. My name is James “Bucky” Barnes. Is your daughter home?”
“What if she is? What do you want?” The squinting of the father’s eyes, Bucky had come to know with his experience, was rarely a good sign.
“Well, um… I want to take her out on a date, sir.” He stated, subconsciously straightening his back, and pushing his shoulder behind him.
“You’re the Rebeccas’s older brother, right?” He said it like he was interrogating him.
“Yes sir.” Bucky stated, feeling the heat a bit.
“Daddy, what’s going on?” Her sweet voice drifted into the room. Coming out from her bedroom, she wore a red button down top with cap sleeves, and a matching red skirt. Her cardigan on top was black, but covered in red and pink hearts knitted throughout. Safe to say, Bucky was glad her father spoke first because he was speechless.
“This young man has come to ask you on a date.”
“Bucky?” She asked, finally noticing who was standing there.
Shaking his head, James cleared his thoughts. “I was hoping that I might be able to take you for a walk through the park, maybe some ice cream. I’m aware it’s too short of notice for the dance hall tonight but I figured, this would be the next best thing.”
As she walked closer, he could smell her perfume more clearly. It was such a beautifully clean scent, with just the barest hint of vanilla. Bucky struggled to keep his wits about him as he watched her.
“You brought those for me?” She pointed at the small bouquet in his hands. It was not much, but at least something.
“Of course. Pretty flowers for a pretty lady.” Bucky smirked, passing them over. Meanwhile, her dad stood there with a sour look on his face. Noticing this, he retreated just a bit after passing the flowers, while she put her hand on his shoulder gently.
“Daddy, don’t scare him. Bucky is a gentleman. He’s Becca’s big brother. If you should trust anyone with my safety for an evening, it’s Bucky.” The way she advocated for him nearly made the man blush. “Let me go put these in water and then we can go.”
After she left, her father leveled the younger man with a look, and held out his hand. Once Barnes had slipped his into the shake, her father gripped tight, and shook hard. “Treat her right, or I make sure that you have to move out of town.”
Feeling thoroughly terrified, but trying not to show it, Bucky nodded. “Yes, sir. Understood.”
“Ready to go, Bucky?” Coming back in, she had also grabbed her purse on the way. Released from the handshake with her father, James held out his arm towards her.
“After you.”
#rebelliousstories#writing#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes imagine#the winter solider x reader#the winter solider imagine#the winter soldier#1940s#1940s bucky#valentines day#ValenFics#ValenFics 2025
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Geo's words proved just how careful they needed to be. How a comment or question so seemingly innocuous to some could spark something far more dangerous, make them see that something wasn't quite as expected. Perhaps -- - like travelling out to visit synthetic for seemingly no reason? Max wondered if his disappearance would be a cause for concern. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to leave, sometimes needing to meet up with clients face-to-face or fetch supplies that he didn't really want to leave to the Company synthetics within the building. Oddly enough, he always felt that they had enough to do without him adding more onto their workload, and why not? It wasn't as though he was bound to the building, he could do it himself, get out here in the world and live it in his own way. A bigger part of it was also because he didn't interact with them, he wasn't built to and something about the less emotive types made him feel uneasy, like staring at a painting that was eerily looking back at you, its eyes following you around the room.
But he'd have to tread ever so carefully now. He'd have to lie which was a daunting task for something that wasn't meant to do that so easily. He could and had, of course, but it wasn't exactly something he'd ever been entirely comfortable with and he needed to have sound and logical reasoning. Though it made him wonder how often people lied to him, how easily it came to some humans. Was that another pang of doubt suddenly bouncing around his processor?
"Then I'll try not to make a mistake." Max admitted gravely, he'd certainly try his best. Though that was easier said than done with Weyland-Yutani. He was in an odd predicament. Yes, he had a huge amount of leeway when it came to his comings and goings, but at the same time he was meant to exist within those parameters, a literal experiment in the world to see what a synthetic would do with such a sense of freedom while still being kept on a leash. After all, he was still held back by his behavioural inhibitor, if a Company employee ordered him to tell the truth he'd be powerless to disobey.
The thought was enough to make him visibly wince, fingers suddenly tightening around Geo's. He had to tell him. "Geo... you know I'm not familiar with your make, but I need you to understand something. While I'll do everything within my power to keep all of this a secret, if one of my employers orders me to be honest with them, I don't have a choice." Brows softened in worry. "It's my behavioural inhibitor. Every Weyland-Yutani synthetic is fitted with one after a previous line had... issues." That was one way of putting it.
He didn't want to betray the other unit's trust, wouldn't dream of it, if he could dream, but there was a point where the choice wasn't entirely his.
"But yes, I think practice is needed then maybe it won't come to that." If he could give a good enough performance then nobody would think to question him in the first place, at least -- - he hoped. With a pause, blue eyes fell down to his other hand in Geo's, enjoying the alien touch as he focused on his sensors. "I won't let them catch me, us... if I can."
The android looks back to Max, giving a small nod. Yes he had been bee alone. By human life standards, Geo was still young. He was only about a year and two months old.Perhaps it was the fact he'd gone so long and seen so much more before he had really ever started wake. He understood humans more from daily interactions. He knew how they worked, how they hid their emotions, how important of a role that played in their day to day lives.
"I am unsure... They spoke in hushed voices, in separate rooms. I do believe his Misses had said he had asked if they were to see me again soon.... I can only assume it led to questions and a run on his diagnostics. He should have asked about his Misses' schedule. He should have asked if he was supposed to schedule in a visit with my Misses. He made a mistake. He came from a different company than I. I believe it is that is what saved me from such scrutiny."
Geo looked about as guilty as he felt. It was his fault that Arthur had slipped up. His eyebrows knit together, he almost looked as if he would cry, although he wouldn't. It wasn't necessary to shed tears. That was all for humans in very rare circumstances.
"I have had a year or so to learn about humans, what they expect. I know how they work. Why it was only three months and two days since I began to feel anything at all... or at least that I was aware."
He licked at his lips, a gesture he had learned from other humans that he had learned to integrate into his gestures. The husband had found it endearing when he seemed a little unsure. It became a habit.
"It was difficult at first, I will admit. In the beginning, I tried not to think about Arthur at all. When I was alone, I would practice. Thinking of him... smiling through it. Running through scenarios in which I may have had to divert. I am sure it helps that I am made to be so expressive, to act how it is my users want and expect me to. Expressions of love and gratefulness that at first I never understood, but that they needed for my more intimate tasks."
"You should practice, Max. It will help you to hide those distracted feeling from them. Don't let them catch you...." He finally moved the other hand away from his face, taking hold of Max's other hand. "I will help you."
They will not take you away from me too.
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was talking with a friend about how some of dunmeshi fаndom misunderstands kabru's initial feelings towards laios.
to sum up kabru's situation via a self-contained modernized metaphor:
kabru is like a guy who lost his entire family in a highly traumatic car accident. years later he joins a discord server and takes note of laios, another server member who seems interesting, so they start chatting. then laios reveals his special interest and favorite movie of all time is David Cronenberg's Crash (1996), and invites kabru to go watch a demolition derby with him
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#kabru#kabru already added laios as a discord friend. everyone else in the server can see laios excitedly asking kabru to go with him#what would You even Do in this situation. how would YOU feel?#basically: kabru isnt a laios-hater! hes just in shock bc Thats His Trauma. the key part is kabru still says yes#bc he wants to get to know laios. to understand why laios would be so fascinated by something horrific to him#and ALSO bc even while in shock kabru can still tell laios has unique expertise + knowledge that Could be used for Good#even if kabru doesnt fully trust laios yet (bc kabru just started talking to the guy 2 hours ago. they barely know each other)#kabru also understands that getting to know ppl (esp laios) means having to get to know their passions. even if it triggers his trauma here#but thats too much to fit in this metaphor/analogy. this is NOT an AU! its not supposed to cover everything abt kabru or laios' character!#its a self-contained metaphor written Specifically to be more easily relatable+thus easy to understand for general ppl online#(ie. assumed discord users. hence why i said (a non-specific) 'discord server' and not something specific like 'car repair subreddit')#its for ppl who mightve not fully grasped kabru's character+intentions and think hes being mean/'chaotic'/murderous.#to place ppl in kabru's shoes in an emotionally similar situation thats more possible/grounded in irl experiences and contexts.#and also for the movie punchline#mynn.txt#dm text#crossposting my tweets onto here since my friends suggested so
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gonna be real bud if your fic relies so heavily on intense triggering themes and shock value that you're averse to putting warnings on it to "maintain surprise" and "avoid spoilers", then you act like you did nothing wrong when people are upset that you didn't make any effort to turn them away and allow them to protect themselves, while also telling them it's their fault that they read something that upset them when they could have never known it contained specific things that will upset them, i think you are a tar pit
#'warnings are a courtesy!!' yes so why are you apparently averse to being courteous#saying omg fanfiction never used to warn people and print books never warn people so it's not a bad thing if i don't warn you!#that's some 'no one protected me so why should i protect you' type shit#sorry i got recommended this dumb ass post and i had to say something so i'm saying it here#why are you telling people to curate their own experiences while actively making it more difficult to curate their experiences LMFAO#if i read a scene with intensely triggering content without knowing it was there before. 'just closing the book' or 'hitting the back butto#is not protecting myself. how do i protect myself from something I've already read???#diary#like dude it's possible to protect people from spoilers while also protecting people from seeing things that will distress them#i also honestly take issue with people who do a content warning but just say “this gets into some shit” or something of the like.#you might as well have just not said anything because now i'm confused and on edge#instead of able to protect myself properly i have to try and gauge my personal sensitivity against the unknowable factor of#what your idea of “some shit” is#also telling someone to 'just close the book lol' is an incredibly dismissive approach to people being affected by something triggering#you know these things do happen to people in real life. right. but of course who would have empathy for someone who doesn't want to be#reminded of trauma
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For all Ive said about nonhumanity being like transness... took me a hot minute to realise the dysphoria im having lmfao. no normal person this side of the galaxy is feeling grossly out of place in their own body because it settled naturally into a head, two arms, and two legs. Im not even thinking about species. This isnt an attempt to be something Im not, its a continuous "my brain isnt aligning with my body". I feel so intensely like Im being forced to appear like this in order to be respected/considered normal/not shunned or feared or otherwise repulsing those around me. god.
i hear my voice monotoned and string-instrument-esque and it sounds so unnatural. i see eyes and nose and mouth and all i can think is, even when i look like what humans would call completely inhuman, how human it is. Sorry. Four limbs and a head and standing upright? So human. Speech in a linear singular voice? So human. ugh. god.
#here's where i decide to let myself settle more naturally or keep forcing myself into a humanoid shape huh#~abyssal murmurs#I dont hate humans just like i dont hate women. But i look at my bodies and... physically all the ways im womanly invoke the#same feelings as looking at my astral bodies and all the ways im human. its so... its dysphoria lmfao its the exact same experience#its the exact same ''i expected to see something different. im not in the right body. theres no shame in my body but this isnt what i am#and i keep forgetting i am stuck in this form'' like. yeah biology does that#i love humans. but the intensely gross and out of control and ''i swear two minutes ago i wasnt this'' and so on feelings are...#Like its not ''humans are gross'' the gross feeling comes like nausea at being in a foreign body that doesnt align with who#you feel and know you are. My physical body?? If it was someone elses Id be attracted to it - actually I have proof of that lmfao -#and Id say theres nothing wrong with it. but its intensely not me in subtle ways. the way it grows fat and where. the roundness of features#the etc etc so-called feminine features. The way my astral body settles into human-like configurations...#ugh. god. coming back from being the almadia Im about ready to never take a fucking human form again - and thats the thing#its dysphoria as in i could be in a Considered Nonhuman Form like i said and still all i can feel and see are things im not even consciousl#thinking of. Ive been annoyed tonight about my understandings of reality coming from The Other Side Of The Galaxy - I am intensely#missing home. And like. theres a whole lot of. shit to deal with in regards to waking up as an incarnation#because you are not you. You are decidedly not you. The more you wake up to You the more you realise youve spent hundreds of thousands of#years vs 20 odd ones this life as something - im so tired man#im a force of change and dysphoria is a bane of my existence because its so tightly knotted into the strings of Cannot Control#its based on ''my own /body/. not my life. my /body/. my selfhood. is not in my control and will always be controlled by#other peoples opinions of it and they will always pilot it into boxes without my consent that i dont agree with because everyone else can#do with my body what they want and i can do nothing''#does every damn trauma and bad event in my life need to be underlined by rape trauma yes apparently so
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that random guy from highschool that's shown up in my dreams like five times has made another appearance. I should've written it down this morning because now ive forgotten. but i remember is was a really small like one line part. and i woke up and went over my dream a few times in my head before i was like. YOU.
my dreams weren't super interesting last night but i kept waking up so there were a lot.
#dream log#like i had a crush on him bu ti had a crush on fucking everybody#i was way more inlove with my best friend at the time. i litterally just thought this guy was handsome. maybe thats what he is.#like generic handsome guy.#i WISH i could remember what he said this dream. like this is getting excessive. i never think about this guy. he only started#appearing after highschool. its usually not even a like main part of the dream?#my friends from highschool RARELY appear in my dreams. the amount this guy shows up is like. almost on par with my family#at first it was like haha. but now its like what the fuck?? am i stuck with this guys fucking face in my subconsous for ever now?#am i gonna be thirty five and telling my partner about how this guy from highschool did a kickflip or something in my dream that night?#maybe he just represents my entire highschool experience or something. that. really doesnt fit the vibe#but im trying here.#yes i 'believe' in dream interpretation you are so cute.#i think he might even know that this happens because i complained about it on my instastory after like the third or fourth one and his fire#replied asking who it was. only person who asked (i wasnt expecting people to but like. do you see. like. do you see)#best one was definitely when he was like “would you rather wear knee pads or shin pads” and i think i said knee pads and he was like#“no. gotta protect your shins” or something#god im typing all this hoping that the dream this mornign will just pop back into my head but i think it got deleted. so sad.#so theres two i cant remember and three that i can. i couldve been four if i just. listened to my self and wrote down the dream when i woke
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#oh boy#was in a social group zoom thing this evening#and we were reviewing the guidelines for fair conduct and all of that whatnot which comes with being in a talk-based group#and someone took issue with the use of and definition given for the word ‘crosstalk’#saying that they’re in a 12 step group and ‘well ackshually ‘crosstalk’ means this’#to ‘well ackshually’ a ‘well ackshually’#the definition they gave is just what you generally see in zoom step groups *these days*#there is no definition of ‘crosstalk’ as handed down from the world service office#in other groups I’ve been in that aren’t 12 step#the general notion of ‘crosstalk’ is talking over the top of one another#or interrupting#usually to disagree or add an opinion or offer unsolicited advice#it doesn’t mean ‘you can never comment on what someone else said’#or ‘you can never add to the point someone made in the the thing they just shared’#maybe it does in that person’s particular step group#but it really depends on the individual social group of any particular flavor#the group itself must decide how to phrase the concept of ‘being a rude pushy dolt’#and for a lot of groups the word which sums it up best—esp in environments where talking over each other is made very easy—is crosstalk#i have no problem with them making a point or sharing the definition that they’re familiar with#but it’s not law handed down from on high by Bill Goddamn Wilson#fortunately someone else with some experience of in-person groups from the ‘90s was able to give their opinion#yes i said something but in more of a ‘here’s my experience and here’s what other groups I’m in have to say about this concept’#but I’m happy to report that i didn’t roll my eyes#12 step principles and conduct is my trigger to deal with#and so I’m dealing with it here by writing a fucking essay in the tags because buhhhhh my gaahhhhhd#okay#the 12 step hater is laying down the microphone gently as to reduce the feedback and squealing and not hurt y’all with my personal issues
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Please do not send me asks for donations
Here's why (for if you find that statement impossible to understand):
I have NO money to give you.
I'm not popular enough that I will give you any reach.
I am a minor, and most of my followers/mutuals are too.
It makes me feel extremely guilty.
Seeing pictures of injuries or hospitals etc are triggering and/or upsetting for me. These pictures often have blood, gore, extreme medical situations, hospital environments, etc. I'm not saying I don't feel sympathy for them, I'm saying I do not want to see that.
They are always worded in a way that makes me feel like I am a murderer if I don't donate.
I said I don't want them, and my boundaries should be respected. They make me feel uncomfortable, and sometimes triggered or upset.
I can't tell what is a bot/scam and what isn't. Yes, I know most of them are not, or whatever it is you believe, but I don't have the time to do a full study of each asker.
I get a lot of spam from this. It is disappointing to see 10 new asks in my inbox just to be the same ask for donations over and over.
Please, just respect the fact that I have said this.
If you want this in your pinned post, please don't credit me. You can copy the words or take a screenshot with my username cropped out. You can reblog this but please don't go on about how awful your experiences have been. I get it, but also if you spiral two much you might end up accidentally saying something bad. This post has led to a lot of hate anons and harassment, so I would rather not have too much attention. Thanks...
I am pro Palestine and want to do everything I can to help but I'm not financially or mentally well enough to do much. I'm not in support of these people dying. Also, this post isn't just about Palestine. It's about ALL asks for donations. I'm not doing favouritism or racism. I just can't deal with it. Don't harass me for expressing boundaries. This post applies to people of all nationalities and backgrounds. Every situation- war, poverty, injury, anything. I'm not discriminating. I'm not being a zionist or a racist or an ableist. It's a boundary.
Yes, this post might seem controversial. But I did literally make this for my own personal experience and didn't expect it to get more than 12 notes or so. Don't add opposing views because quite frankly, it's none of your business. It's not my problem and I didn't mean for this post to get so many notes. Don't use the number of notes as an excuse to fight me. I just want a peaceful Tumblr experience. Also, if you are reblogging this, don't trauma dump. I keep notifications on for this post so that I can block people harassing me before shit escalates, so I can see every reblog. You can screenshot and repost if you want to talk about your problems, but honestly its no better seeing people saying "I'm bankrupt and I just got kicked out by my family. I also have a history of abuse and those images are so triggering that I want to die". That doesn't help me. Make your own post to say that. Please.
I am taking this post off private after slightly modifying it. Any conflicting arguments based on this post will result in my blocking and reporting of you. If you do not understand my point of view, make sure you fully read the post before saying this. I made this post for my blog. If you have any questions or don't understand this post, send me an ask that is composed, calm and polite, and I can talk it through with you.
Please note that by sharing this post, you are more likely to be targeted by bots and scams. You are also more likely to be harassed. Please be safe.
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Yes, this is a new account, I just made this. I don't care if people question the authenticity of my post, my experience as a shifter, or whatever I'm about to say.
I don't know how to use Tumblr, nor do I know how to make my post reach people who need it, nor would I be a narcissist and say "you're lucky if you found my post!" I don't mind if this reaches an audience or not, I'm glad to get everything off my chest.
Yes. I've shifted.
I have shifted realities, more times than I can count on my fingers, and that is for a very specific reason, which I'll explain later.
I'm writing this because I'm about to permashift, and no, I won't hear out any antishifters or people who don't like permashifting in general, I don't care about your opinion so don't waste my time.
Before I start, I'd like to say one thing:
I was irrational minded, I lacked belief in myself and shifting. Shifting often times felt like a chore more than a fun activity, and i have to admit, it became an unhealthy habit.
So? Why did I mention this?
Because I had been lurking around shifting communities and I realised everyone feels like this, a very (mentally) painful feeling where the lack of shifts starts acting as your biggest enemy, and the phrase:
"Shifting needs practice!"
Sounds like poison when it comes from an experienced shifter.
Though, is the phrase actually true?
No, not at all.
Shifting does not need practice!!
Here's why:
(BTW, I will explain my "method", no matter if I have time or not. Also, I don't call this reality "Current Reality", instead I call it Void reality, so don't get confused.)
The "practice" you're doing is only affecting your void reality (taking time out of your day, making you constantly think you're in your learning phase, so it doesn't exactly lead to your desired reality, does it?)
Of course, if you view it as a skill, it will in some way act like that, it'll become a skill for you, and you can never succeed on your first, second, third, hundredth try, because in your brain you have registered the fact that shifting is this grand, universal task, and that it is very difficult (because its common sense that you practice difficult things to get good at them)
Practice is a very humane and earthly act, if people have succeeded doing just practice, then good for then, they're right in their own way, but it didn't work for me, and in my opinion it's the worst way to view shifting, and often times it is demotivating, and you'll mess up you're entire journey.
Shifting is not a skill, shifting is a universal law.
I'll become more clear as I explain my journey:
My journey:
I found shifting from a random YouTube video 3 years ago. I might have only said cool and moved along.
A year later something traumatic happened in my life, which shook me so badly I needed an escape.
First of all, I chose astral projecting, but I realised I was too much of a coward to do so.
Then I came towards shifting, first DR was very typical, it was Hogwarts.
Having no knowledge whatsoever in the topics of spirituality, meditation, I went straight to methods, because they were like guides for me, I was very inexperienced, of course, and looked at other people and what they were doing for guidance.
Alice in wonderland method didn't do much, raven method was too uncomfortable (side note, all this raven method does is make you too focused on your void reality, cmon, in your DR are you laying down like a starfish?) And I was having terrible trouble with my intrusive thoughts (which made the floor disappear from under my feet, made the stairs for the stairs method too short to climb or straight up made them dissappear as well)
I didn't have any luck that year, no mini shifts, no lucid dreams, or sleep paralysis. And my DRs never remained constant. They always changed on a daily basis.
I was big on methods, I couldn't realize they never worked for me.
Although, this year of failure led me to finally figure out where I belonged.
A DR made out of scratch, which I spend much effort in putting the pieces of it together.
The DR, which was called "Home reality" really made me feel settled in my journey.
LOA, and the consciousness theory were the leading factors which made me shift.
And don't worry, it isn't what you're tired of being told, I didn't just apply any orthodox definition of LOA and succeeded.
Background to my first shift:
It was a particularly stressful day, I really missed my home.
I was studying at my college (I still am, but...) and I was dreading giving a chemistry test, I did not prepare. In my mind, one thing was constantly looping in my head.
The scenario of the chemistry teacher coming in, and taking the test, and the next day I get it handed back with a big fat zero.
But then I stopped and wondered, having already known about the consciousness theory, so according to it:
"I am constantly letting this thought run in my mind, and constantly letting this reality dictate what happens next."
Basically, I realized what was about to happen next was indirectly in my control, but with my line of thinking, I was letting this reality control it directly.
I stopped, like actually stopped thinking.
And with a blank mind I thought.
"I won't have to take any test today."
And went around telling my classmates this with a confident tone.
The teacher came in, said we'll instead do some practicals in lab.
So the test got cancelled.
Going home, I got excited, i felt powerful.
I decided to apply this to shifting.
Before shifting, I took a nap during the day, (if you're tired your body insists on sleeping, so your mind will get hazy and you will start acting lazy towards your goal)
And after living how I normally would, before bedtime, I listened to some songs, and look at a Pinterest board which reminded me of my home reality.
My method and what happened next:
First phase of shifting:
When I laid down on the bed to start shifting, I first got comfy (for me, if I feel sleepy for some reason, I laid on my back, I can't fall asleep in that position, but if I think ill stay awake until I reach a "detached state" then I sleep on my side, it's comfortable)
I obviously wasn't checking the time, but I spent about 10 minutes getting relaxed, all I do to relax is:
a) look at the blackness (closed eyes, looks like starry skies) and try to believe I'm looking at the milky way.
b) think about my home reality, just faces of my loved ones, and nostalgia inducing images.
c) Affirm, but don't focus entirely on affirming, usually in the back of my mind I'm repeating "I have shifted to my home reality" "I have shifted my senses to my home reality" "I have stopped sensing the void reality" "I am smelling, tasting, feeling, hearing and seeing my home reality" no other fancy affirmations required. (Now that I think about it, you need to affirm NOW because this method has two phases, one where you are shifting, and one where you have shifted, and you are in the 3D, where you are occupying your DR self, their thoughts, and memories, and popular method usually only have one phase, either you are shifting, or have shifted. So my point is if you affirm later and you'll be affirming when you're supposed to be in your DR, and obviously, your DR self won't be spouting out affirmations about shifting to a random reality for no reason.)
During this time, you'll feel tingly all over. It's a good sign.
And you'll feel a certain detachment, like you aren't exactly here, you have no idea what position you're lying in, and where your feet are. (Please, for the love of God do not start counting your feet or get freaked out that you can't feel your leg, you'll come back to the void reality.)
So you can start the next phase.
Middle phase (optional):
To prepare for the next and last phase, you can do this to get ready, or don't (First read the third phase)
This is all about connection to your DR.
Think about memories from your DR, focus on the faces of your loved ones, the way you act, talk, your mannerisms in your DR, or you can simply say affirmations like these one:
My name is ___.
I work as a ___.
My age is ___.
Don't try to imagine vividly or anything, lightly touch upon the basic details of your DR, the construction and foundation of any reality and the person, who has existed there for their entire life.
(That's you!)
Phase three:
Take a sudden, abrupt stop from your stream of thoughts. (Yes intrusive thoughts will still pop up but don't give any importance to them) when you're in a blank state of mind, not longer than 30 seconds, you need to build up to the last step of your shifting method, and journey.
a) start imagining hearing the voices of your loved ones or just any voice, calling your DR name, your nicknames, with different tones. (For example, i heard my name in an angry tone from my father when he was scolding me, I heard my name followed by a laughter when my S/O teased me.)
OK, for me, I started feeling intense, groundshaking symptoms at this moment. Sudden flashing of lights, extreme feeling of floating, and ofcourse, feeling tingliness so much that it felt like pins and needle on my entire body. (I did ignore the symptoms)
b) plan the rest of your day in your DR, which you will be spending.
AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T SAY IT LIKE THIS.
❌️When I reach my DR ❌️ I will have to go to that eye specialist for that appointment.
Instead: (and the more you personalize it, the better)
Ughhh, I have to go to that appointment- this day will suck.
(Don't mind my example, that was the only thing I could think of at the moment)
c) in this reality, you are constantly thinking of something, your thoughts are definitely what constructs this reality, and your current thoughts are affecting your subconscious. (By this point, your subconscious is grounded in your DR, so don't worry about that bastard.)
Now, you're going to start thinking, thoughts which are going on in your DR self's mind, start with one sentence, with which you'll be able to start consciously thinking like your DR self.
And think in the style, tone, and mood of your DR self, and keep the thoughts strictly related to your DR.
Thats it, but what happens afterwards? And what happened to me?
So for me, I started feeling weird while I was thinking.
And I remember I thought this:
"Ugh, I don't want eggs for breakfast."
(I'm not saying this is the key to shifting, at this point, I had covered various topics, including, weather, my upcoming work assignment, and praised my S/O for a good 5 minutes.)
And I started panting, like suddenly I was trying to catch my breath, the room felt bright, so I opened my eyes, and well, I was in my home reality :)
I was delirious for a few second, my S/O was looking at me worriedly, but surprisingly, it didn't even take me a minute to adjust, it felt all so natural and I wasn't scared.
I didn't even feel emotional, at all, and didn't hug my S/O with tears in my eyes, I straight up asked to be served breakfast, incase anyone was wondering.
So that's it.
Although i have much to say, I'm tired of writing, but I'm more than willing to answer each and every one of your questions, although I only have 7 hours left till I permashift, I'll remain mostly active till then.
And no, I'm not rereading this to fix my grammar, so just ask if anything confused you.
Ask away.
I'm still not sure if this'll reach anyone or not.
#shifting community#reality shifting#shifting motivation#shifting blog#shifting antis dni#shifting#shiftblr#shifters#permashifting#respawning#shifting methods#shifting stories#shifting success
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*.˗ˏˋ Use DEILD to enter the void in secondsˎ˗.*
~featuring a lucid dreamer’s unintended success story I found on YouTube~
Incoming Topics..
*PART 1 <RECAP: What is Deild? >*
*PART 2 < The success story >*
*PART 3 < How to use DEILD for the Void >*
*PART I < What is the DEILD method? > *
If you haven’t read my original post on DEILD I have linked it down below towards the end of this one. I recommend checking it out for an in depth tutorial on the method, but I’ll give a quick explanation here as well-
To put it simply, it is a technique that is traditionally used to get fast and easy lucid dreams. Upon waking you lie still and keep your eyes closed, tricking your body into thinking that you never woke up and then within seconds the dream reforms except now you’re aware in it! You can also create a new dream or you might enter a false awakening which becomes a lucid dream. This method works SO QUICKLY it’s seriously like a LD method shortcut!
I’ve heard of lucid dreamers talking about the void before but after watching a YouTubers video about a lucid dream he had, I realized he actually used the DEILD technique to go straight to the void in SECONDS, unintentionally! Which is something I hadn’t thought about doing before-merging the lucid dream technique WITH 👏🏼 THE VOID 👏🏼 TECHNIQUES!! 👏🏼 So for those of you attempting to enter the void state from a lucid dream, this can be used as a SHORTCUT on top of a SHORTCUT! 🙌🏼 Yes ma’ammmm y’all seriously need to come try this one out because when I say SECONDS I’m talking secondsss-no more waiting 20 minutes for your left brain to turn off, no more long breath work exercises or reality checks or hours of lying still, affirming, no more battling with creating portals-the void can be EFFORTLESS and induced in under a minute.
*PART 2 < The lucid dreamer’s success story> *
There’s this lucid dreamer on YouTube called TIGER123 who posts about lucid dreaming techniques and his own lucid dream experiences- he actually has a video tutorial on DEILD as well (which is linked in my OG DEILD post)
So, I was at work looking for something to watch and saw he posted a new video about a lucid dream he had recently. Well, I can tell you wasn’t expecting him to literally open the video by talking about how he woke up from a regular dream, realized it was the perfect opportunity to perform DEILD and get lucid, and then. AS HE’S PERFORMING DEILD. He enters the void! Just like that. While he was in the void he visualized the dream scene he wanted to be in and he said he was there within 10 seconds. Aka he instantly manifested entering the exact lucid dream he wanted to be in, from the void state.
This is someone who doesn’t believe in shifting or astral projection, wasn’t trying to enter the void, thinks the void is just an unformed lucid dream space that can be used to form a new lucid dream, doesn’t know you can manifest from that state and yet STILL got in and STILL manifested. Since he viewed the void as a place he can form a new lucid dream thats what he did. He still manifested instantly, he just MANIFESTED going from the VS to being in a lucid dream. This should just go to show you guys how REAL the void state is, because someone who doesn’t even know about it and wasn’t trying to get in STILL did it. (SO CAN YOU btw)
The void isn’t a concept created on tumblr. Lucid dreamers have experienced it for years, meditators experience it, yogis, followers of Neville Goddard and multiple religious practices do too; It’s just called by different names and defined differently, but all the experiences describe the same thing. So if tumblr success stories aren’t trustworthy enough to you, or motivating enough-expand your research and find hundreds of stories similar to this one-lucid dreamers thinking it’s just an unformed dream and yogis thinking it’s just a really relaxing deep meditative state etc…
*PART 3< How To Use DEILD to enter the VS> *
I linked the video at the bottom, he doesn’t really talk about the void much or deild because the video is about the actual contents of the dream he had, but the part he does talk about it is right at the beginning, the first 30 seconds or so, if you’re curious in checking it out but this is pretty much what he said about it, written out-
“First I was in a space dream and then I woke up and kind of realized I had just woken up from a dream and was able to stay still and kind of reenter into it and fall back asleep and I ended up in the void. You know that like complete blackness where it’s really easy to reform the dream and since I was there I figured I would just try to go to the beach because when I’m in this void state I can really go anywhere I want. I just reformed the beach and I ended up on the exact beach I was imagining in like 10 seconds.”
So boom. Thats’s it thats ALL. That simple. So here’s the exact steps to do if you want to enter the void through DEILD too and be the next success story:
Before bed: affirm “I will remember to stay still upon awakening. I will effortlessly enter the void using DEILD” or some variation of this (optional)
Visualize yourself waking up, staying still, and entering the void state (optional)
Go to sleep, with the calm certainty that this will work.
Wake up. Keep your eyes closed and lie still
You can keep a blank mind and wait, trusting that your subconscious will induce the void automatically, since you already set the intention the night before
5a. Or right after waking, with your eyes closed you can begin affirming that you are pure consciousnes and imagine yourself already in the void, or imagine yourself sinking gently down into the void state until you are truly there. This method is so effective you should be in the state within a minute or less.
And remember, the void state can’t be forced, just like sleep can’t be forced. All you can do is create the right conditions for it to occur naturally. It’s okay if you don’t get it right away. Focus on trust, not control. Avoid over analyzing whether it’s working while you’re performing the technique, just allow it to flow and happen. You saw he just literally lied still waiting for the dream to form and then he was in. It’s that effortless. Give it a go and report back in the comments 🫶🏼 Happy enteringgg
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—please me
chapter summary: After dating for a while, you want nothing more than for Logan to really please you. Or, you beg Logan to finally fuck you.
word count: 2.2k+
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: here was the request
i don't have a lot of experience with the corruption kink, but i think this is it?? or maybe not, feel free to correct me😅
warnings/tags: old man logan, age gap, porn no plot, implied oral (f!receiving), pet names, begging, unprotected piv, corruption kink, praise kink, teasing, overstimulation, slight crybaby!reader(?), creampie
Normally you wouldn’t beg for something like this. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no man, yet were more than happy to have one.
You weren’t like most girls your age either, moving from guy to guy never staying with one. It just wasn’t for you, you were never a super horny teenager, nor a super horny adult.
But when you started to date Logan, it was like you could feel the shift in your ovaries, and to make matters worse he never went the extra step, no matter how much you said you were ready.
It was always him going down on you, giving you beard burn that you delighted in, with the addition of his lovely thick fingers that always pushed you over. And sure, you went down on him, but that’s where it ended.
And you couldn’t help but want more, but Logan being Logan always made up an excuse about you being too young, or how he didn’t want to ruin a pretty little thing like you.
Logan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his beard glistening from the evidence of what he’d just done. You were still trembling, clutching at the sheets as the last waves of your release rolled through you, trying to catch your breath.
He shifted, moving up to sit beside you on the couch. The lazy smirk on his face told you he was proud of himself, as if he didn’t already know how good he was with his mouth and those ridiculously skilled fingers.
“You good, doll?” he asked, his voice gravelly and low, sending another shiver through your body.
You nodded, but something in you wasn’t satisfied. Not this time. It wasn’t enough anymore. You wanted more—needed more. And it wasn’t just your body begging; it was something deeper, something primal.
“Logan,” you murmured, sitting up on your knees and reaching out to touch his chest. Your fingers traced the lines of his muscles under the fabric of his shirt. He stiffened slightly, glancing at your hand before looking back up at your face.
“What is it, princess?” His tone softened a bit, though you caught the slight edge of wariness in it. He probably already knew what you were about to ask.
“I want you,” you whispered, leaning closer so your breath ghosted over his ear. “I need you.”
Logan groaned, running a hand over his face as if trying to wipe away the temptation that was you. “Y/N… we’ve talked about this. You’re… you’re too young, and I don’t wanna ruin you.”
You pulled back slightly, pouting in that way you knew he couldn’t resist. “I’m not a kid, Logan. I’m old enough to know what I want, and I want you.”
“Damn it, doll, don’t make this harder than it already is,” he muttered, looking anywhere but at you.
You weren’t going to let him get away with brushing you off this time. Shifting, you straddled his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. His hands instinctively moved to grip your thighs, and you felt the tension in his body as he tried to keep himself in check.
“Please, Logan,” you pleaded, grinding down against him. His breath hitched, and you knew you were getting to him. You leaned in, brushing your lips against his neck, trailing soft kisses up to his jaw. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited, but I can’t anymore. I need you.”
He groaned again, his hands tightening on your thighs. “Doll, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
“Yes, I do,” you said firmly, pulling back to look him in the eye. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Logan’s resolve was crumbling; you could see it in the way his jaw tightened and his eyes darkened. He exhaled sharply, his grip on your thighs loosening slightly as he leaned his head back against the couch.
“Just the tip,” he muttered, almost as if trying to convince himself more than you. “Just the tip, and we stop if it’s too much.”
You nodded eagerly, your heart racing as you started to pull at his shirt. Logan’s rough hands came up to still yours, his calloused fingers wrapping around your wrists.
“Doll,” he said, his voice low and strained. “You’re killin’ me here.”
“Good,” you shot back, leaning in close enough that your lips brushed his as you spoke. “Then stop holding back.”
For a second, he didn’t move, his knuckles going white from the tension in his grip. Then, with a growl that vibrated through his chest, Logan released your wrists and let you yank his shirt over his head. The fabric barely hit the floor before his hands were on you again, sliding under your top to feel the softness of your skin. His touch was rough, desperate, like he’d been holding himself back for far too long.
“You sure about this?” he asked, his gaze locking onto yours. His eyes were dark, hungry, but there was a flicker of hesitation there, too.
You answered by pulling your shirt off and tossing it aside, leaving yourself bare before him. His breath hitched, and his hands froze for a moment before sliding up to cup your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The touch sent a jolt of pleasure through you, and you let out a soft gasp, your hips pressing down against him.
“Fuck, princess,” he muttered, his voice thick with desire. “You’re gonna drive me insane.”
“Good,” you repeated, your hands moving to the waistband of his jeans. “Because I’m not stopping until I get what I want.”
Logan groaned, his head falling back against the couch as you unbuttoned his jeans and dragged the zipper down. His hips lifted slightly to help you, and you pushed the denim down just enough to free him. The sight of him made your breath catch; he was thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip. You swallowed hard, your excitement and nerves mingling as you wrapped your fingers around him.
“Doll,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Don’t… fuck, don’t tease me.”
“I’m not teasing,” you said, shifting so you could line him up with your entrance. You paused, looking up at him one last time. “I want you, Logan. All of you.”
His jaw tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. “Just the tip,” he muttered, as if trying to convince himself. “We’ll stop if it’s too much.”
You nodded, your hands braced on his shoulders as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. The stretch was intense, bordering on overwhelming, but the pleasure that came with it was undeniable. Logan’s hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks, and his head tipped back as a low, guttural groan escaped him.
“Jesus, Y/N,” he hissed. “You’re so… tight. Fuck.”
You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders as you adjusted to the intrusion. “Logan…”
“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained. His hands flexed on your hips, like he was fighting the urge to move.
“Yeah,” you breathed, nodding. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… give me a second.”
He nodded, his chest heaving as he tried to keep still. But as the initial sting faded and the pleasure began to build, you couldn’t help but start to move. You lifted yourself up slightly before sinking back down, and the friction sent a wave of heat through your body.
“Fuck,” Logan groaned, his hands guiding your movements as you began to pick up the pace. “Doll, you… you feel too good. I—fuck.”
Your response was a breathy moan, your head tipping back as you rode him. The way he filled you, stretched you, was almost too much, but you didn’t want to stop. You couldn’t. Not when it felt this good.
"Logan," you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. "Please… I need… more."
Logan clenched his jaw, his self-control unraveling as your breathy voice and soft pleas pushed him further. He shifted beneath you, planting his feet more firmly on the floor, and wrapped one arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His other hand slid up to cradle the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he tilted your head so he could press his lips to your temple.
"You don’t know what you’re asking for, princess," he muttered, his voice rough, low, and dangerously close to a growl. But even as he spoke, he rolled his hips up into you, just enough to pull a choked gasp from your lips.
"I do," you whispered, your forehead resting against his shoulder. Your nails scraped lightly down his arms, and you moved your hips again, meeting his shallow thrust. "Please… I… I can take it."
Logan swore under his breath, his grip on your waist tightening. "You’re gonna regret beggin' like that," he warned, but the smirk pulling at the corner of his lips betrayed his own amusement at your desperation.
He thrust up into you harder, and the sharp cry that escaped you sent a shiver down his spine. Your body clenched around him, the slick heat driving him mad. The way you buried your face in the crook of his neck, panting and babbling softly, only added to his torment.
"Logan," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Feels s’good… oh… ohhh… please…"
"Look at you," Logan said, his voice laced with a teasing edge. He gripped your hips tighter, guiding you as you started to move more erratically. "Beggin' me to fuck you, and now you can’t even talk straight."
Your only response was a breathy whine, your body trembling as you moved against him. Logan’s smirk grew as he thrust up into you again, harder this time, making you cry out. Your hands fisted in his hair, your nails dragging along his scalp as your head tipped back.
"Oh… ohhh Logan," you babbled, the sound broken and desperate. "Please… don’t stop… more… more."
Logan’s chest rumbled with a low chuckle, but his movements never faltered. He braced his feet against the floor and began to move, his hips snapping up into yours in a steady rhythm that had you gasping and moaning uncontrollably.
"Thought you wanted me to take it slow," he teased, his voice a mix of amusement and desire. "Now look at you, ridin' me like you can’t get enough."
Your response was incoherent, a string of soft cries and gasps as you clung to him. Your head fell forward onto his shoulder again, your breath hot against his neck as you mumbled, "So good… so good… ohhh… Logan…"
He groaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as his hand slid down to grip your ass, pulling you down onto him harder with each thrust. "Yeah, that’s it, doll. Take it. You wanted this, didn’t you?"
"Y-yes," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper. "Wanted… you… so much… oh… ohh…"
Logan growled, his hips bucking up into you more forcefully. Your cries grew louder, your nails digging into his shoulders as you tried to keep up with his relentless pace. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending lit up as he filled you over and over again.
"Fuck, you’re close," he muttered, his lips brushing against your ear. "I can feel it. You gonna come for me, princess?"
You nodded frantically, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. "Y-yes… oh… Logan… I… I…"
He didn’t let you finish, his hand sliding up your back to pull you even closer as he drove into you harder. Your body tensed, your cries turning into broken sobs of pleasure as your climax crashed over you.
"That’s it," Logan murmured, his voice rough but tender. "Let go for me, doll. Let me feel you."
You came undone, your body trembling and your head falling against his shoulder as you sobbed his name. Logan groaned, his grip on you tightening as he fucked you through the aftershocks, each thrust pulling another shuddering moan from your lips.
"Too much," you whimpered, your voice muffled against his skin. "Logan… too much… can’t…"
But Logan didn’t stop. He slowed his movements slightly, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back, but he kept going, his own release building as he pushed you past the edge.
"You’re fine," he said softly, his voice a deep rumble. "You can take it. You’re stronger than you think."
You whimpered, your body shivering as the overstimulation sent jolts of pleasure-pain through you. Logan pressed a kiss to your temple, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release.
"Almost there, doll," he muttered, his voice strained. "Just hold on a little longer."
You nodded weakly, your hands clutching at him as he thrust into you one last time, his body tensing as he spilled inside you. He groaned, his head falling back against the couch as he held you close, his breaths coming in harsh pants.
For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the sound of your ragged breathing and the faint hum of the TV in the background. Logan’s hands ran up and down your back soothingly, his touch grounding you as you both came down from the high.
"You okay?" he asked after a while, his voice soft and laced with concern.
You nodded, your face still buried in his neck. "Yeah," you murmured, your voice hoarse. "More than okay."
Logan chuckled softly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "Good. Because you’re gonna be sore as hell tomorrow, princess."
You let out a breathless laugh, your body relaxing against him as a warm, contented silence settled over you both.
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⋆ our bodies, two wounds of love.
bodyguard!sevika x f!reader. men & minors dni.
synopsis: as the youngest daughter of a highly famous businessman, you're not at all what sevika is expecting upon receiving her assignment.
cw: modern setting, soft!sevika, reader is sugar sweet and slightly shy, reader has long hair, obsessive behavior, dubious consent, as in reader wakes sevi up properly like the eater she is but sevi consents when she wakes up, somnophilia, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, implied/referenced sex, via toys, implied strapping as god intended, overstimulation, impact play, it's pussy slapping, nipple play, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, praise kink, pet names, dom/sub undertones, minor violence, reader speaks german in this for no other reason than i've been watching the empress., soft dom!sevika, love confessions, near-death experiences, non-sexual intimacy, age difference, older woman/younger woman, mommy issues, implied lmfao, makeup sex, arguing, resolved sexual tension, masturbation in bathroom, accidental voyeurism notes: this is set to american by lana del rey. listen here. this is more emotionally heavy, but definitely my favorite. does this plot barely make sense? yes. but is the reward worth it? yes. this is a repost.
out of all her clients, you were the easiest.
sevika shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was, given the research she’d conducted. you were the youngest of four daughters, and the public fed off your penchant for privacy. finding someone like you in her line of work was a rarity: no scandals to cover up, no carefully curated drama for the tabloids. your reputation preceded you—sweet, quiet, and often tired. a homebody, mel had said with an almost indulgent smirk when sevika was handed the assignment.
“you’re lucky,” she added. “the others are a handful.”
sevika didn’t believe in luck.
the flat where she first met you was a monument to your family’s wealth. still it was tasteful—ornate without being garish, quiet grandeur woven into every polished surface. it was the kind of space that swallowed sound and softened the world's edges.
your apartment was beautiful in a way that felt intentional but not performative. soft cream and powder blue walls were traced with delicate vines and florals, the details long faded. it wasn’t pristine—scuffs on the wooden floor and fingerprints smudged onto the low, sculptural table in the center—but it was lived-in, loved in a way that gave the space its warmth.
the table itself was an anchor—organic and raw, its uneven edges smoothed by time, surrounded by cushions in muted grays and pale pinks that had lost some of their color to the steady heat of the sun. a shelf of books stretched to the ceiling, its rows crowded with novels and photography volumes, with stacks of loose papers and half-burnt cigarettes scattered between them. the window beside it was cracked open just enough to let in the sound of rustling leaves, the faint scent of rain-soaked greenery curling through the room like an invisible flatmate.
golden lamps shaped like oversized fans stood at either end of the space, their light pooling onto the woven rug beneath. it cast the room in a kind of half-glow—soft, forgiving—blurring the edges of things just enough to make them feel closer. there was something fragile about how it all fit together like it had been arranged for someone who might leave it behind at any moment.
and yet, it felt distinctly like you. the powdered jasmine in the air, the book splayed open on the armchair, the small dish of rings by the window—it was a home that asked nothing of you but to exist in it. sevika’s stormy gaze caught on an abandoned note on the window sill, the script delicate and curling.
cochem, it read. i miss you. i want to come back to you. i want to disappear inside of you and have you love me again. i want to get lost in the german morning. no one will ever know me, and i’ll be happy, less unfulfilled.
she fingered the edges of the paper, sun-bleached and flaking. then she began to walk again, navigating to what looked like the open door of your study.
you were waiting for her inside, perched in an armchair too big for your frame, as if the room had been designed to diminish you. at first glance, you looked as delicate as the furniture you sat on, barefaced and bathed in soft afternoon light that filtered through sheer curtains. it was the kind of light that made everything look fragile and translucent.
you wore an ivory blouse, thin and shimmering with embroidery that seemed to grow out of the fabric like frost patterns on glass. the neckline skimmed your collarbones, modest but deliberate, while the sleeves flared past your wrists, draping like petals. the cinched waist and pale drawstrings might have belonged to someone dressing for comfort, but on you, it was something else entirely—careless elegance.
the sweatpants should have broken the illusion. they didn’t. instead, they made you seem more unreachable, more unstudied. as if you’d wandered into this world from somewhere else—someplace softer—and were still too young to realize you didn’t belong.
sevika lingered in the doorway for a beat longer than she meant to, her presence large enough to make the room feel smaller. she expected you to bristle at the intrusion, to draw yourself up with the same cool hauteur that so often marked women of your standing. but you didn’t.
you looked up at her, eyes wide and unguarded, and smiled.
“hello,” you said. your voice was so soft, as though you feared disturbing her.
sevika’s eyes swept over you, cataloging every detail: the way your hair—long and heavy—spilled over your shoulders, catching the faint streaks of the incoming light; the way your blouse seemed to ripple as you moved, fabric clinging like a whisper to your skin.
“i’m sevika,” she said finally, voice low and steady. “your father hired my team's services to protect your family. i’ll be your bodyguard.”
you nodded and rose from the chair, the movement unhurried and deliberate. you smoothed your palms over the sides of your sweatpants—grey, nondescript, somehow lovely in the context of you—and stepped closer. you smelled faintly of something soft and fleeting: fresh linen, maybe, or soap.
“it’s nice to meet you,” you said, extending your hand, sincerity tucked neatly into every word.
sevika didn’t take it right away. there was something strange about you—something that tugged at her instincts and told her to look closer. your face was open, unguarded, but there was a sadness there, too, stitched into the curve of your mouth, in the way your lashes fell low. she watched the way you stood there, chin lifted just enough to suggest poise but not pride, eyes wide and unguarded as they searched hers for something she wasn’t used to giving.
trust.
and for the first time in a long while, sevika found herself unsure of what to do. you weren’t like the others, all obvious disdain and high expectations. nothing was demanding about you—nothing calculated or sharp. just the soft curve of your mouth, the quiet pull of your gaze, and a kindness she didn’t quite know how to meet.
she clasped your hand firmly but briefly, clearing her throat as she stepped back.
“we should go over security protocol,” she said gruffly, falling back into professionalism as a defense.
you only nodded, that same soft smile still lingering. “of course. whatever you need.”
whatever you need.
sevika didn’t believe in luck, but standing there, looking down at you—your long lashes fluttering as you turned your gaze away, the afternoon light casting faint shadows through the sheer sleeves of your blouse—she wondered, for just a second, if this was as close to it as she would ever get.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
it took three years for both of you to understand that your relationship had outgrown the typical bounds of client and employee. yes, intimacy was inevitable given the circumstances, but even a stranger would’ve seen something uncanny about how you and sevika were… connected, even for a bodyguard.
love affairs always look different to those inside them. you thought nothing of how deeply you needed her, how fondness for her had quietly rooted itself in you. sevika risked her body—her life—to keep you from harm, and it felt natural to bond, to grow into one another. time spent apart became more agonizing only relieved by the hours you were together, yet you ignored the weight of it.
your sisters often spoke of it, though only behind closed doors. you rarely engaged in their chatter. you had always been this way: dreamy, untethered, with a mind like mist and the heart of a prey animal. lame, your mother had called you, her voice sharp with disappointment. sickly, she added, as if naming your frailty might cure it. over time, it became easier to withdraw, to wrap yourself in silence, and let the world chatter on without you.
but with sevika, life required less effort. you rediscovered a tenderness for the act of living in her presence. she was patient, grounding. she found you tolerable even at your worst, and for that, you adored her. no one else had made you feel this way—not men, not women.
while you preferred women, you had dabbled with men, more out of curiosity than desire. it felt clinical, an attempt to decode them like puzzles, perhaps to better understand why you and your father clashed. women, on the other hand, unraveled you.
the realization of your love came in two parts. the first arrived in the languid quiet of a holiday evening at your family’s upstate estate.
you had overexerted yourself in a lagree class, and sevika, ever watchful, had drawn you a warm bath. you watched her through the crack of the bathroom door, your gaze catching on the soft swell of her hips, the worn strength in her movements as she stretched after finishing readying the bed for sleeping. you often shared when traveling. she sat on the edge of it, her familiar perch, closest to the door. she always did this.
it was the smallest things about her that undid you: the way her hair slipped loose from its strict ponytail, the gentle sway of the gold chain brushing against her collarbones. you’d bought her that chain during a weekend in stockholm. now, the sight of it filled you with a sudden, vicious envy. you wanted to be that close to her—always.
the need consumed you. your body buzzed with an unnamed energy, teetering on the edge of itself. you wanted to crawl out of your skin and into hers, to dissolve completely against her warmth. you wanted her blood to run through your veins, her marrow to fuse with yours. your desire was feral, deranged, trembling like a dying pathetic thing.
without thinking, your hand slipped between your thighs. the thought of her—the sharpness of her profile, the tender press of her hands on your waist at the farmer’s market earlier—burned in your mind. you focused on the ridge of her nose, her beautiful nose. everything about her pleased you.
your fingertips pressed harder into the rosy pearl of your clit, and with a wounded cry, you came undone, trembling, your gaze locked on her through the crack in the door.
as if summoned by your thoughts, sevika lifted her head and met your eyes. her stern gaze pinned you, and you sank beneath the water with sudden embarrassment, your skin flush with heat.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
the next morning, your pleasure still lingered via a morning glow on your skin. you woke to find sevika beside you, her strong shoulders rising and falling with the rhythm of her sleep. you lifted a hand and stroked her brow, cooing softly as she murmured from somewhere deep within her sleep.
she, you thought, is every woman i’ve ever wanted.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
the second realization came during an attempt to kill you.
you were the chosen target—a calculated decision. your public image, carefully nurtured by those who sought to use you, made your death a tragedy worth orchestrating. the explosive had been hidden cleverly in the heart of your favorite restaurant, the one you frequented for its thick slices of fresh bread and macadamia milk.
when it detonated, your world fractured. your vision blurred, your ears rang, and blood trickled warm and sticky down your face. the floor rose to meet you, the lacquered wood pressing cold against your cheek. the world went in and out like the weak signal of a radio. someone was screaming—it might have been your mother, though you doubted she cared enough to wail like that.
through the haze, a hand cupped your jaw, firm but careful, and your head was turned until your eyes locked on sevika’s. her gray gaze steadied you, cutting through the chaos. you raised a hand, your french manicured tips trailing lightly against her cheek. one of them, you noticed, was broken.
“[name]. [name], look at me. don’t take your eyes off me.”
“vika,” you whispered, the name slipping from your lips like a prayer. for the first time, you saw fear flicker across her face.
“it’s me,” she said softly. “you’re going to be fine, but i need to get you up. i need to get you out of here.”
you didn’t want to move. here, cradled in her hands, was where you wanted to stay.
“i can hold you, princess,” she murmured, her voice impossibly tender. “if that’s what you want. but i have to move you first. deep breath, okay? here we go.”
she lifted you as though you weighed nothing, her strength unyielding. you clung to her, your broken nails digging into her skin as she carried you through the wreckage. bodies lay strewn across the floor, and your heart broke when you recognized the familiar face of a favorite server.
“it’s okay,” sevika said, her voice a steady anchor. “look at me. just keep looking at me.”
and you did. your gaze drifted to the soft curve of her throat; your face tilted toward her as though she were the sun.
when she laid you on the stretcher, a terrible fear seized you. you reached for her, desperation clawing at your chest.
“stay with me. bitte. bitte, ich flehe dich an.”
sevika froze. if it had been anyone else, she might have refused and headed back to assess the security breach. but it wasn’t anyone else. it was you.
“i’m right behind you, sweetheart,” she promised, her hand pressing firmly to your stomach. “right behind you. just in that car.”
“danke, vika,” you murmured, your voice breaking. “du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du.”
even as the ambulance doors closed, your eyes never left her. you focused on the faint hum of her engine trailing behind you, the sound steady against the fevered rush of your heart.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
sevika was unforgiving after that, and you selfishly enjoyed the over-attention.
she stole you away, back to your flat, and hovered. always within reach, always watching, her presence as constant as the air you breathed. you hated it. you loved it.
she insisted on being in the room while you bathed, while you ate, while you tried to pretend your body wasn’t trembling from the aftershocks of the explosion. the weight of her gaze pressed into your skin like a second layer. she dressed your wounds with quiet efficiency, her fingers steady but firm, and even when you flinched, she refused to soften her touch.
“you should’ve told me this one was hurting,” she murmured one evening, crouched at your side with a damp cloth in hand. her voice was scolding, but there was an undercurrent of something wounded beneath it—something that hadn’t healed properly since the restaurant.
“it’s fine,” you said, looking anywhere but at her.
“it’s not fine,” she snapped, gripping your wrist a little too tightly before loosening her hold. “you don’t tell me when you’re in pain. you don’t—” she stopped herself, shaking her head as if to clear it.
her jaw worked, muscles tight, and you stared at the curve of her throat as she leaned over you, wiping dried blood away with the kind of precision that only made your chest ache.
“you’re smothering me,” you said softly, more to yourself than her, but her head snapped up like you’d struck her.
“you almost died,” she bit out, and the words made you flinch harder than her grip.
“but i didn’t,” you countered, hating the way your voice trembled.
you could be such a child. it crippled you, your desire to please her, to be less burdensome. she’d kill you if she knew what you were thinking. thank god it was your secret.
sevika’s lips parted, but no words came. just that unfaltering, infuriating look—one that said she knew better, that she always knew better, and that you knew this to be true. you raised a finger, traced the glistening edges of her teeth. she kept her mouth open; she never bit down.
and then one evening, you decided you’d had enough.
“i’m going out,” you said, pulling a thick coat of fur—vintage—over your shoulders.
sevika, seated in the chair by the window, didn’t look up from the blade she was sharpening. “no, you’re not.”
“yes, i am,” you replied, voice clipped.
her eyes flicked up to meet yours, the air thickening.
“why would i agree to that?” she asked, standing slowly, her full height suddenly overwhelming in the small space. “why would i let you walk out of here after i almost lost you last time?”
you laughed bitterly, shaking your head.
“let me? you’re not my keeper, vika.”
“really?” she said, stepping closer, her voice dropping to a dangerous octave. “should we do another read of my contact? i’m the person who pulled you out of the rubble. i’m the person who’s been keeping you alive, no thanks to your recklessness.”
“recklessness?” you snapped, whirling to face her fully. “if you’ve learned anything these past years, it is that i am rarely reckless. you promised me. you said you wouldn't be another dictator. you know what my life’s been like. i am allowed to have a life outside of this, outside of what has happened to me.”
her nostrils flared, and for a moment, she just stared at you, her chest rising and falling rapidly.
“you think i’m doing this for me?” she asked, her voice rough, uneven. “you think i like this?”
“yes,” you spat, the frustration spilling out of you in an unstoppable wave. “this is the most excitement i’ve given you. you must think i’m so fucking boring all of the time. so, yes, i think you’re enjoying it. it makes you feel important. ”
something in her cracked. she closed the distance between you in two steps, her hand shooting out to grip your chin, tilting your face up to hers.
“i'm enjoying this?” she growled, her breath hot against your skin. “watching you get hurt? wondering if this time i’ll be too late? don’t mistake my care for control.”
her grip softened, her thumb brushing your jaw, and suddenly, the room felt unbearably small. you could see the pulse in her throat, the heat in her gaze as her eyes searched yours.
“sevika,” you said. your self-righteousness had passed, and you were so deeply ashamed. “vika, that was unfair. i’m sorry. forgive me.”
her hand dropped to your waist, pulling you closer until you could feel the solid warmth of her body against yours. her breath was shallow, her jaw tight, but her eyes—god, her eyes. they burned with something that made your knees weak.
“bitte,” you whispered.
“i’m trying,” she said, her voice trembling, “to keep you safe. to keep myself from—”
she cut herself off, her gaze flicking to your lips. and before you could say anything, before you could breathe, her mouth was on yours.
the kiss was searing, all teeth and desperation, her hand tightening on your waist as if she was afraid you might disappear. you gasped against her, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, her neck, her hair. but just as quickly as it began, it ended. she pulled back, her breathing ragged, her eyes dark and stormy.
“don’t push me like that again,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
and then she was gone, the door slamming shut behind her, leaving you alone with the echo of her touch.
you crumpled like a paper doll and began to sob. outside, sevika, having turned back, pressed her forehead against the wall. absent-mindedly, the fingers of her prosthetic twitched and aborted their motions, jerking against the door as if fighting to feel you there.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
you needed to repay her for your abhorrent behavior.
you tried through what you knew: lavish breakfasts, waking up early to purchase her favorite flowers and sweets. you’d even carefully cleaned and oiled her prosthetic. sevika said nothing, if only not to further provoke your guilt, but you could tell she felt it was unnecessary. she was always too easy on you.
the universe, however, seemed to agree with you, and the opportunity to protect sevika came faster than you ever expected.
it was another attempt, this time at a crowded gala in the heart of the city. you hadn’t wanted to go, but sevika had insisted—you wanted to go out. besides, you need to be seen. send a message. and she had been there, of course, always in the background, a silent shadow at your side.
you saw the glint of the blade before she did.
it was instinct. your body moved before your mind caught up, and suddenly, you were between sevika and the would-be assassin, your arm jerking upward to deflect the strike with the heavy bracelet you wore. the metal screeched against the blade, and a sharp pain radiated up your arm, but you didn’t falter.
with your other hand, you snatched a knife from the cocktail table behind you. it was small but sharp, and you used it without hesitation. you didn’t feel the burn of the blade as it nicked your palm on the thrust; you only felt the sickening resistance of flesh before the assailant crumpled at your feet.
“get down!” sevika’s voice was a thunderclap, her hand gripping your shoulder as she shoved you behind her. she moved with terrifying precision, her body a blur of strength and fury as she assessed the situation in seconds.
the room was instantly bursting with chaos. a flash of silver caught your eye as sevika swung her prosthetic arm, sending one of the other assailants sprawling. blood slicked the floor, and the copper tang of it hung heavy in the air. your ears rang with the cacophony of fists, steel, and slit flesh.
you shouldn’t have done that; you knew this. the headlines would be more than money could hide.
“fuck!” sevika’s voice cut through the din, sharp and furious, as she turned to find you standing there, breathing hard, your hands stained red. “what the hell did you do?”
“i—i had to,” you stammered, your chest heaving. “you didn’t see him—”
she grabbed your arm, dragging you toward the far side of the room where the air was clearer and less stifling. the fight was dwindling; the attackers were now being rounded up by security, but sevika’s fury was just beginning.
“what were you thinking?” she hissed, her voice trembling. “do you have a death wish?”
you ripped your arm from her grasp, your own anger bubbling to the surface.
“i was saving you! or would you rather i let him stab you in the back?”
“i don’t need you to save me!” she snapped, stepping closer, her broad shoulders towering over you.
“maybe i need to,” you shot back, tears pricking at your eyes. “i refuse to just sit here and watch you die for me. i won’t. you can’t ask that of me.”
her expression faltered, the rage in her eyes dimming, replaced by something heavier, something more understanding. she often forgot how young you were.
“princess, it's not—you don’t understand,” she said. “if anything happened to you—”
“you’d what?” you interrupted, your voice wavering as you stared up at her. “fall apart? i wouldn’t be any different, vika. you're far from inconsequential. i could not survive a world without you.”
the silence between you was deafening. her gaze dropped to your trembling hands, still clutching the bloodied knife, and she let out a low, shuddering breath. more security personnel arrived, breaking the stalemate. the room was secured, and sevika took that as her cue to remove you from the premises, dragging you through the back corridors, her hand iron-tight around your wrist.
the moment the door to your shared suite slammed shut, she spun on you. her eyes glistened as she glared at you, her body taut like a bowstring.
“you don’t get it, do you?” she said, stepping closer. “i can’t—” she broke off, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.
“you can’t what?” you asked, shifting toward her. “vika, tell me.”
her jaw worked, the muscles in her neck tightening as she tried to hold herself together.
“i feel like i’m so close to losing you,” she said finally, her voice low and broken.
the words hit you like a punch to the chest.
“you won’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “i can’t be without you in any way. i won’t allow it.”
her eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, neither of you moved. the space between you was so heavy. all you wanted was to smooth the worried line of her forehead, to share water with her, and wipe her clean.
“you can’t promise that,” she said finally.
you watched as she turned from you and slipped into the bathroom to begin getting ready for bed.
˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚
she woke up with your head between her thighs.
sevika might’ve been more pleased about it if it wasn’t in the middle of the night. still, it wasn’t the worst way to come to.
the warmth spidered from her thighs to her hips before coiling tightly in her stomach. her eyes fluttered open, disoriented and struggling to focus. she heard you first: the wet suck of your mouth against her swollen, brown folds. you moaned somewhere deep and hidden in your chest, your hands tightening around the thickness of her thighs even though she was not yet bucking.
it took a while for her to place herself, and then it crashed into her all at once. she gasped and tucked a hand into your hair, which you removed so that you could intertwine your fingers, pressing them away from her head.
you unlatched from her and pressed a soft kiss into her stomach.
“stay still,” you commanded. “please.”
she allowed it.
you worked at her over and over, pushing the back the hood of her clit so you could roll it between your fingers like a rosy pearl. sevika let her pleasure crest until she shuddered into an unearthly orgasm, her legs snapping shut around your head just as a roll of thunder sounded through the early morning.
"couldn’t sleep?" she rasped.
you slowly unfastened her legs and raised your head from where you had been lapping at her, your full mouth glistening with her arousal. sevika sat up fully, legs shifting beneath the butter-yellow comforter, and stared down at you.
you looked back at her with wide eyes like she’d caught you sinning. you. you with your puppy eyes and open mouth. you, with your sweetness, with your eagerness when it came to her. you like a doe on the open road.
"no," you told her. "i couldn’t accept the idea that you hated me."
she sighed and cupped your cheek, thumbing across the plush skin.
"when you do or say something that displeases me, that doesn’t mean i hate you."
"if you’re displeased," you said, your voice thick across the last word, "then it feels the same to me."
with a huff of irritation, she yanked you up and into her lap, guiding you into a bruising kiss.
it wasn’t like the last time. this wasn’t desperation or fear—it was need. pure, unrelenting need. her hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against her, and you gasped into her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair.
she shifted you easily, rolling over so that you fell beneath her. her eyes roamed over you, dark and hungry, and for a moment, you forgot how to breathe.
“you drive me insane,” she murmured, her voice rough as her hand trailed down your side.
“good,” you whispered, pulling her back to you.
soon, kissing wasn’t enough. you had hungered for her for so long, and she for you.
wetly, your lips broke apart, and she slid back to survey you. the soft, muted light of the room caught on the intricate lace of your undergarments. the set was exquisite; the bra cupped you perfectly. you saw sevika's jaw tighten, her hands flexing at her sides as though restraining herself from reaching for you.
“you look…” her voice faltered, her control waning. “fuck, princess.”
heat spread across your body, and you felt the lace press a little tighter against your skin as your chest rose and fell with shallow breaths.
sevika leaned in, her eyes never leaving yours. her hand rose, hesitant at first, before her fingertips brushed the embroidered lace at your shoulder. she traced the pattern down your arm, her touch light but burning, before resting her palm at your waist.
“you wore this for me?” she murmured, her voice low and dark, as her thumb swept over the sheer fabric, catching on a pebbled nipple.
“who else?” you answered, a tremor in your voice as her hand slipped to the small of your back, pulling you up into a soft arch.
she hummed in satisfaction and gently pulled your bra down so that it dipped beneath your tits as they spilled further into view. steadying you with a hand on your stomach, sevika leaned down and coaxed a hard bud into her mouth.
the wet heat of her mouth was akin to a strike of lightning. you moaned as she increased the pressure of her teeth, suckling eagerly at your chest as you pushed desperately into her touch. by instinct, your legs rose to cross behind her hips, forcing her to settle on top of you.
she let go of your nipple with a wet pop and switched to the other, beginning to work her way down your body with a pleased exhale. your panties didn’t even put up a worthy fight. they just slid right down, the fabric bunching around your thighs. the scrap of fabric had barely covered your cunt anyway, your thatch of hair poking through as if to tease her.
she watched your lips gleam and glisten, your pussy drooling with arousal and as deliciously plump as the rest of you. sevika pressed her mouth against it, practically a dog in heat, and relished the way you shivered up against her.
“vika,” you moaned and turned your face to the side in the way you did when you were overcome with embarrassment.
“baby,” she murmured, shifting so that she could force you to look at her. “baby, is this all for me?”
you whined, and sevika smirked, dipping her head down to lick a flat stripe up your dripping cunt.
“vika, fuck,” you cried, and she hummed, hooking a hand around one of your legs to pull it up so that you were further exposed. your clit was swollen and calling out for her.
pulling back, she used her free hand to part your lips so that she could watch the way you clenched around nothing. slick ran steadily down to the crack of your ass, a syrupy stream of desire. carefully, she stroked a metallic finger through your heat, holding you down as she began to rub your clit in tight circles.
“look at that pussy,” she murmured. “can’t believe it’s all mine, princess. thank you. thank you, baby.”
sevika couldn’t help herself and lifted her hand, bringing it down to slap against your cunt. you squealed, and she pressed a kiss to your thigh, delighting in your loss of composure. she considered you beneath her, your body slick and shining with sweat as you writhed. she rained two more strikes across your pussy in quick succession, dropping her head down and sliding her fingers in to let your buck into her open mouth and lolling tongue.
“taste so fucking good, princess,” she purred into you. “that’s it. ride my face, sweet girl. take what you want from me. take what you need.”
you gripped the bed, angling her hips so that you could drag her deeper into the cavern of your cunt. mewling, you trapped her between the link of your legs as you snapped upward and arched, cumming with a high sob.
“oh my god, vika.”
“just me,” she teased.
sevika waited for a couple of seconds before pushing up and rearranging you, sliding your back against her chest. carefully, she pushed your legs back apart and tucked three fingers up into your cunt, building a rhythm until she was thrusting hard enough that the overstimulation made you scream. you curled over yourself, your nails raking down her muscled thighs.
she milked you, patient and unrelenting, until you began to bounce on your own. you rode her hand. hard. slowly, your gummy walls tightened around her, whimpering through the flashes of pain and pleasure before you came again with a silent wail. sevika held you as you shook apart, whispering a stream of steady praises into your ear.
“good girl,” she cooed. “look at how good you are, princess. you needed this, huh? you’ve been begging for it, so desperate to cream all over me. such a good fucking girl.”
you slumped down, whimpering weakly as she pulled away from you. you felt her get up, slipping off the bed and walking somewhere into the darkness of the room. soon, she returned but not alone. you began to come back to yourself, and in doing so, you were able to focus on what she held in your hands.
“vika, that won’t fit.”
in her hand was a navy harness and matching dildo, girthy and ribbed. you tilted your head as she closed in, your hands finding her waist as if by instinct.
“sevika,” you whispered, your voice breaking as her lips trailed down your jaw, her teeth grazing your throat.
“quiet, baby,” she muttered against your skin, and you sighed softly, the sound catching in your throat as her hands slid lower, gripping your hips with a possessiveness that made you shiver. "you know you can take it."
you let out a pathetic, wet cry as she prodded at your puffy cunt, and her face softened. she pulled you closer, peppering your face with soft kisses. there was only her—her heat, her weight, her breath against your skin.
again she watched you, gripping you firmly from beneath your thighs as she nestled the tip of the dildo at the entrance of your pussy.
“princess,” she called to you, and you blinked blearily, clutching at her. “consider this forgiveness.”
it was all you ever wanted.
© hcneymooners.
translations. bitte — please. bitte, ich flehe dich an — please i beg of you. danke — thank you. du bist das, was ich brauche. nur du. — you are what i need. only you.
#sevika#sevika x reader#sevika x you#sevika x y/n#wlw#sapphic#lesbian#wlw smut#arcane smut#sevika arcane#mine ; 🐎.
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DPxDC When You Are Suddenly Dating a Princess (pt. 2)
[<- part 1]
"What do you mean-" Jason starts, but the girl is already tapping her ear briefly - and only now does he notice a tiny comm there. Fuck, he should have known.
"Oscar? I changed my mind, I want to claim something," Jazz says easily, and, after a short pause, "A Tecpatl, the one with the owl. No, it's for personal reasons- You don't have to, but alright." She taps her ear again, and Jason can't help but ask:
"Who's Oscar?" He is not jealous. He is just insanely curious and very confused.
"My bodyguard," Jazz rolls her eyes, "At least he thinks he is. I'd say he is more of a secretary."
That doesn't really explain anything. It actually just adds even more questions - what kind of a magic user needs a bodyguard? or a secretary, for that matter? - but Jason keeps them to himself for now. He is... kind of intrigued now. Jazz said 'claim', not 'buy'. Which might be just a weird word choice, but somehow, Jason thinks it was deliberate.
A bald, black-skinned guy in a black suit and sunglasses - which, seriously, how does he even see a thing in here with those on - makes his way through the crowd and stops in front of Jazz, nodding slightly to her.
"Lady Phantom, I understand you want to make an impression, but using your status for personal matters-"
"Did I ask for your opinion, Oscar?" Jazz's voice doesn't change. It's still pleasant and sweet, and she is still smiling, if just a bit, but there's an unmistakable steel edge to her tone now. Jason feels a light shiver run down his spine. He's seen Jazz in a lot of different situations and circumstances; he's seen her get mad at a librarian who banned some controversial books in the public library, and he's seen her skillfully take down an armed robbery in a shop all by herself, and he's even seen her successfully stare down Killer Croc on one occasion.
Yet, he's never seen her like this, with her chin raised up high and radiating authority like she is the most powerful person in the room.
Also, Lady Phantom?..
"No," Oscar admits after a pause and presses his lips together, "But the Council of Ancients will not be pleased."
"Council of Ancients couldn't care less even if I declared war," Jazz brushes the comment off, and Jason's levels of confusion are growing higher and higher with every word they exchange. Oscar sighs and finally complies:
"Very well, then," he breathes out with a sense of surrender, and then turns his head to Jason just slightly, "Is this an urgent matter, or should I go talk to the auctioneer and the sellers?"
Jazz looks to Jason, raising her eyebrows in question. And, technically, it's not that much of a time crunch now since Jason doesn't have to try and sneak through the security or wait for the auction to start officially. But he feels a bit petty. Also, this man was questioning his girlfriend, which is offensive on many levels in Jason's opinion.
So, he nods, "Urgent."
Oscar's face doesn't change one bit, but Jason has plenty of experience with emotionally inept men who look like they are eternally constipated. He can see the traces of exasperation in Oscar's shoulders.
"Follow me, then," he tells them both, and turns around, headed to the back of the auction rooms. There's security there, but Oscar only shows them some kind of a badge, and they step aside, letting the three of them through. As far as Jason knows, no FBI or CIA agents should have that kind of clearance.
Which finally prompts him to ask the most important question as soon as the doors behind them close and it's only them three going through an empty hallway.
"Who are you?" He asks Jazz, who is still keeping her hand on his elbow. The girl hums, not looking at him, and keeps walking after Oscar.
"Jasmine Fenton," she answers, and, yes, he knows that much. He's seen the files Bruce has on her, but at this point, he is not even sure how much of the info in there was actually true.
"You are in the presence of Jasmine Fenton, Lady of the House Phantom, Princess of Infinite Realms and sister to a King," Oscar supplies, and his voice is... a bit petty. Like he knows Jazz didn't want him to say anything, but he still did just because he could.
Jazz huffs and rolls her eyes, "Yes, that, too."
Jason blinks.
He's heard about Infinite Realms. Mostly rumors through the grapevine of Leaguers, but also from Diana personally - he remembers her saying she is glad about having a truce with them. He didn't listen much since she explained it as the Underworld, the Land of the Dead, so he thought she was talking about some mythology shit. Turns out it wasn't.
But there's a more important thing.
"I'm dating a princess," he says to no one in particular as they come to a stop in front of one of the doors.
"Technically, you'll be treated as my consort if you ever decide to visit," Jazz admits, and Jason is officially out of surprised responses. There's only a limited amount of bafflement he can feel in a day, and he has exhausted the resources.
He is a royal consort of the Underworld princess. Sure, why not.
The room they step into after Oscar puts in some code into the lock is filled with boxes, packages, and crates. Jason looks around - sure, he knew all the prettily displayed artifacts back in the auction room were only replicas, but he didn't expect the originals to be literally just stacked in piles in the back room. Yet, here they are.
Oscar looks around the room and confidently makes his way to one of the shelves on the side, quickly going through the labels on the containers.
"Do you have, like, a crown?" Jason asks because he sucks at small talk. Also because he doesn't know what else he is supposed to ask in this kind of situation. Jazz snorts and leans to him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"Not really. Danny has one, and it looks absolutely badass, with flames on top of it, like the ones you would see in cartoons. I have some tiaras and stuff, but they are just jewelry," she explains, and Jason nods sagely. Just jewelry, alright. Seems like he is simply destined to be surrounded by rich people from all sides.
"How about a castle?"
This gets a sigh out of Jazz, "We used Pariah's - that's the previous King - old one for the coronation ceremony, but mostly, it's just for storage. Both Danny and I live on Earth, and Dani, our little sister, travels a lot. So, I do, and I don't at the same time."
"What about-" Jason starts, but he is cut off by Oscar all but shoving a small box in his hands, "Oh. Do I-" he turns to his girlfriend awkwardly, "Do I have to pay you for it or..."
"No, it's from a dead civilization," she raises her head back and shakes it slightly, but after seeing Jason's frown, she elaborates, "I'm the Princess of the Dead. I can officially claim anything that belongs to the dead as mine."
"It's a law that is supposed to resolve any possible conflicts between the denizens of Infinite Realms and the living," Oscar supplies, his voice disapproving. Alright, makes sense why he said it was not for personal matters, then. Not that it's going to stop Jason, though.
"Like, anything?" He punctuates, and Jazz tilts her head, a sly smile on her lips.
"Sure."
"Lady Phantom," Oscar sighs, tired and chastising, but Jason doesn't plan on robbing the auction. At least not robbing it any more than they already did.
He has a different idea.
"Can you ask Batman for the Robin's suit he has in his cave?"
Jazz blinks, and then her smile turns into a full-on grin.
"Of course."
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@akuworld777
#danny phantom#dc x dp#dpxdc#anger management#jason todd#jasmine fenton#ghost princess jazz#cork prompts#ficlet#good!giw#this was all written because i kept listening to Balance:Unlimited soundtrack
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Firstly, big fan of your poly mc x obey me brothers stuff. Secondly, I'm a bit curious about the dynamics between the brothers and mc (cough three-ways cough). Obviously Beel and Belphie wouldn't mind working together, but do you have any headcanons regarding the other brothers sharing?
threesome parings lets gooo! // nsfw, poly!mc (duh) // dateables and sides next maybe?? ;)
Obvious parings
Beel + Belphie; this one is the most obvious, but it works so well (Belphie likes to say they're the best tag-team). It can leave you reeling because you don't always know what's going on when they communicate with just their eyes. The favorite positions in this team are probably: you sitting on one's face while sucking the other off; riding one while the other fucks you from behind; spooning with one in front of you and one behind you
"Such a fuck-ing slut for us, huh? Our pretty little slut."
"o-oh..yeah, move your hips like that again, please..g'na c-cum-!"
"Please go faster, Mc..uh-huh, like that..a-ah! Yesyesyes, cumming! 'm cumming, oh fuck!"
"Your mouth is always so good...here, do Belphie next. Wanna prep you with my tongue."
"Mmm...slow down over there, Beel. We said we'd go slow...'s still early..'m tired." "Sorry, Belphie, but they feel so good..just listen to them. They need us." "..fine...we're going back to sleep after, though."
Lucifer + Satan; yes. These two. Their synchronized energy is almost on par with the twins (even if it's like a subtle competition the whole time) and they do everything so smoothly and seductively it makes you hot and bothered at a rate that should be illegal. The favorite positions for this team are probably: bent over something, one pounding you from the back while you suck off the other; being held up while they fuck you standing, one in front and one behind
"Come on, you can suck my cock better than that. Don't tell me he's made you dumb already?"
"No, no, no, moan my name. Yeah, that's it baby, let me hear you. Louder."
"I'm cumming- don't fucking move. I don't care if he's close, I'm filling you up first."
"You look so pretty, Mc...so. fucking. gorgeous. Doing so good for us, always do so good."
"Hold it. Yes, you can, and you will." "Don't be so mean to them, Lucifer. I think they've well earned the right to cum, don't you? I wanna feel it. Let them cum." "No. If you keep mouthing off, I'll take them away and you can finish yourself off. They hold it until I say so."
Mammon + Asmo; PARTY DUO! They're so wild and filthy and it's so fun to have both at the same time. Tag teaming you is one of the times they can bounce their energies off each other without arguments. The favorite positions of this team (though they're down to try any positions) are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; train style- fucking one [w/strap or dick] while the other fucks you; both squeezing themselves between your legs to give you oral
"Harder! Yeah, yeah, yeah- like that! Come on, Mammon, fuck them faster, I need them to give me more!"
"Ahh, fuck...you're so fuckin' good t'me, baby. Look so good, you're so damn perfect- look at me, look at me, baby...fuuuckkk.."
"Come on, hon! Spread those legs a biiit wider...don't be shy~ show us your pretty self..gotta give us room to work our magic!♡"
"Rock them hips over me, baby, yeahh..make me feel so fucking good. Takin both of us so well."
"Ooh, turn them around this way!" "No way! They faced you the last time, I wanna look at them this time." "That's so not fair- oh! Aw, just listen to that little whine...you need us that badly, Mc?" "Course they do, you kept us waitin so damn long. Don't worry, baby, we gotcha."
Not-so-common pairings
Asmo + Belphie; little odd pairing here, but Asmo cancels out Belphie's sloth (and even gets him riled up in a way only Azzy can) so once you experience it, it's like the shock of temperature play. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding Belphie while Azzy fucks you from behind; sitting on Bel's face while sucking Asmo off; getting fucked by one, head hanging off the side of the bed, while the other fucks your throat
"I knew I made the right idea picking this set out for you! You look absolutely gorgeous, Mc! Put on a little show for us?"
"Mmmnn...move faster..yeah, come on..ugh- please? Please, for me...y-yeah! Like that.."
"The way you move your tongue like that has me spinning, darling! A-ah..ah, ah-! I'm gonna cum!"
"No, no, no, look at me. At me, Mc, not at Asmo. I wanna see your face when you cum on my cock- take that pretty mouth of yours off his dick and scream my name."
"Come on, Belphie! You gotta get motivated! Just look at them, laying there so pretty for us!" "I can make them feel good without acting like you, you know." "Not unless you want me to steal them away~ Ooh, there's that competitive look in your eye!"
Lucifer + Levi; not necessarily an ‘odd’ pair, but definitely one we don’t see often. With the elder commanding the room and the younger so willing to follow along, it makes for a smooth combination (and an easy dynamic to settle into). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sucking off one while the other fucks you from behind; bending Levi over and fucking him while Luci bends you over the other and fucks you from behind; sitting on Levi’s face while sucking Lucifer off
"Ah, ah, ah. If I can hear you forming words, it means you're not sucking his cock properly. Doesn't Levi deserve some pleasure, too, hm? Go on, choke on it."
""Nghh! You f-fuck me s'good! Hnn...h-huh? Y-yes...yes, y'r fucking me dumb already- 'm your good boy t-though, please keep going!"
"So willing and obedient...you don't know what you really even do to me, do you?"
"Mmph...love the way you taste..ride my tongue faster."
"You can fuck them harder can't you? If their mouth isn't being forced onto my cock, it means you're slacking again." "S-s-sorry...they just- ah!- f-feel so good...my legs are..are already shaking." "Already? Well, if you aren't going to do it properly, let's just switch positions."
Mammon + Beel; again, not ‘odd’, but more so an overlooked- giving based- combo. They’re pretty much all about you, so it can be a bit overwhelming sometimes (but in the best way). The favorite positions for this team are probably: sitting on one’s face and giving head to the other; laying on your sides, each fucking you from the front and back; riding one while the other feels you up and plays with you
"Aw, why're ya cryin', baby? Yeah? Feels good? Sweet little thing...how bout we make ya feel even better?"
"No, no- don't run away, Mc..not done yet..you can take us both at the same time, know you can."
"Y'look s'good ridin' him like that. Can't wait for my turn, fuck, do you feel what you do to me? C'mon, baby, feel it...s'all for you."
"Make him cum again..I don't wanna stop tasting you yet."
"Beel! C'mon! I wanna taste 'em too! Stop hogging!" "But their taste.." "I know- but look at 'em. They're dying to taste you, too. So give me a turn, yeah? Let 'em get their fill." "Okay...just for you, Mc.."
Levi + Belphie; this one…is interesting. It’s easy to run things because of their natures, but this is the unofficial ‘drastic switch’ team— you never really know what you’re getting with them. The favorite positions for them are probably: giving both a handjob while they pleasure you; riding one and making out with the other; getting fucked from behind and fucking the other
"D-don't stop- hnn..! O-oh, u-uh-huh, make me cum again, don't care if 'm sensitive, wanna cum again for you!"
"Noo! Come back...mmph..mm...don't stop kissing me. Don't care- I'll move your hips for you, don't worry about Levi, just focus on me."
"You look so. fucking. good. bent over for me. Shh, don't listen to Belphie's bitching, he's getting fucked every time I slam my cock into you, so focus on me."
"Pull my hair. Yeah, like that- mm! Let me fuck you harder..please? He won't care, he can take it, I need to fuck you harder, Mc, please!"
"Quit hogging them! It's not fair!" "Is that all you ever say? It's not my fault you don't ask them to give you what you need. I do. So I'm going first." "H-hmph! Mc, Belphie's being mea- oh..oh your hand feels good..yeah stroke me like t-that.."
Other good mentions
Lucifer + Mammon; these two can communicate with just their eyes as well as the twins can, okay, they absolutely have your head spinning— and usually, the eldest is in charge of the whole thing but sometimes his favoritism shows and he lets Mammon take over. The favorite positions in this team are probably: each fucking you standing, from front and back; sucking one off while the other guides the pace; rough makeout session to see who gets to be in charge (and sometimes it’s you)
"It's been awhile, hasn't it, Mc? I can tell by the way you're already drooling for us...all dumb and pretty. All ours."
"Doin' such a good job, baby...uh-huh, bob your head a liiittle faster, like..this. Use your tongue too...hear the way he's moanin' for ya?"
"Don't make fun of me...is it so wrong that I want to feel your touch, too? I love the rake of your nails across my skin..indulge me, won't you?"
"I don't even care if 'm not in charge this time- just don't stop kissing me..haven't felt your lips on mine all day, please, fuck, don't ever stop kissing me."
"Well? What are you going to do now that you're in control this time, Mammon?" "Heh..overstimulate him, Mc. 'n don't stop until he's shooting blanks." "...what? Mc, don't you d-ah! Gr..damnit...fuck, it feels good.."
Mammon + Levi; they might act like it’s a big competition sometimes, but all they really care about is making you feel good, and when their energies are in sync, it’s crazy. The favorite positions of this team are probably: riding one while the other fucks you from behind; getting fucked while fucking the other, spreading your legs wide open so they can both give you oral
"Don't be such a fuckin' sore loser, Levi. Just put your mouth on 'em and shut up..we don't getta talk till their legs are shakin."
"C-can't handle when you s-stare at me like that..m-makes me feel all hot a-and bothered..especially w-when he keeps fucking you e-even closer."
"Can take it- promise I can take it! Don't stop fucking me, need it s'bad!"
"Hah! Look at him! He's practcially in tears from just one orgasm..h-huh? W-w-what are you doing- no, d-don't! You're..going too fast..a-ahhh..c-cumming! N-no..'m not crying..'m not!"
"What'd you say?!" "You heard me! You're not that dumb, are you?" "You little- Mc? Oh, no, we're sorry baby...no, no, we didn't mean to forget you, we'll make it up. Here..put that tail of yours to good use, Levi." "Yeah..okay..we're sorry, Mc. That feel good?"
Satan + Asmo; this pairing can be so softly sweet and so passionately intense, it should come with a whiplash warning (but are you really complaining?). The favorite positions for this pair are probably: laying down while one fucks you from each side, getting fucked while making out with the other, mutual masturbation and getting edged while edging them
"Ah, ah, ah...not yet, love, don't cum yet. It'll feel better if we wait, yeah? Hold it for me...just a little longer."
"You look so sexy, all disheveled like this! Gets me all hot and bothered every time! Hehe! ♡"
"Arch your back for me- just like that. Makes it go even deeper, doesn't it? Just. like. this. Ohh, fuck, make that sound for me again- 'm gonna cum."
"Stroke me faster, baby, please! Uh-huh, uh-huh...mm! Cumming! Yes, yes, yes!"
"Calm down, Asmo. Mc's had a tiring day..let's take it slow and make them feel better, hm?" "Ooh, you're absolutely right! We'll take care of you, hon, you won't even have to lift a finger!" "Relax, love...we've got you."
#obey me x reader#om x reader#obey me smut#om smut#lucifer x reader#lucifer smut#om lucifer#mammon x reader#mammon smut#om mammon#leviathan x reader#leviathan smut#om levi#satan x reader#satan smut#om satan#asmo x reader#asmo smut#om asmodeus#beel x reader#beel smut#om beelzebub#belphie x reader#belphie smut#om belphegor
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