Luna

25y they|them. 🍂🍄I write whatever is my hyper fixation at the time 🍄🍂

[greinch]

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[greinch]

HEAR ME OUT Matt Murdock that can smell your arousal, sniffing the air like a fucking pervert and having the AUDACITY to smirk at u

[greinch]

Feyd Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader

tw: blood mentioned, sexual tension and sexual scenario, lowkey dom x sub dynamic, spit. THIS IS SHORT! Really short maybe I write this concept as a whole maybe not who knows

Feyd would not kneel, nor would he bow. Almost a force of nature, his will was visceral and unrelenting, unpredictable. And yet, without a second thought, he bent his knees before your figure, opened his mouth and put out his tongue, patiently awaiting your spittle to swallow. It was not some manipulation your witch mother had taught you, nor a command he was forced to follow. It was his nature, his own will, the most obscure and buried desire, to receive any vestige or drop of attention you might bestow. He yearns, so he earned.

“Open it for me, more, yes… just like that, pretty boy” your voice was low and honeyed against his ears. Yes, yes he was your pretty boy, only yours, not his uncle or anyone else, yours and yours only. He opened his mouth wider, tongue sticking out and dripping, dutifully waiting for his reward.

And so, finally tasting your sweet saliva, he swallows. Feyd feels its heat on his tongue, the wet, sweet sensation of your spittle descending his esophagus, the craving and the need to have more and more of whatever you might offer. He dreams of the day he can taste your cunt drool on his tongue. He fantasizes about the moment he would suckle and lick every millimeter of your folds, feeling your body tremble. Perhaps, should he beg enough, you would let him lick your blood. Meanwhile, he is content to swallow your spit and suck your fingers, allowing you to lose yourself in the humid gaze of his blue eyes.

He fluttered his eyelashes at you, his face holding a serious expression that didn't quite match. He was waiting, and you knew it. Silence had a strong hold on you, his impatience growing against his trousers, a growl escaping his mouth.

"Say something!" he barked.

You slapped him instantly and, if he had eyebrows, they would be furrowed. His pale skin began to grow reddish, black teeth smiling back at you, a small bloody cut on his lips.

"How do you say it, Na-Baron?" Your foot met his bulging trousers, stomping down hard as you reveled in the sight of him biting his lip until he drew more and more blood.

"Thank you, my Lady."

[greinch]

Is it just me or you guys also hate the colonizer x colonized troupe? Like, I’ve seen some Feyd x fremen shorts and Idk if I'm “that friend who is too woke?” It just give a irk feeling

[greinch]

There was no gift of life in your beginning, only the cold touch of creation. You were not born; you were stitched. Profane pieces, mended into a macabre mosaic of female forms.

"Woman." A title that hung uncertainly.

Your consciousness, newly roused, vibrated with the sorrow of a sadistic and melancholic song. Victor called you his "Masterpiece," "The Bride." But the altar was your coffin, and the groom, an unknown shadow. Your reason for existing was a dense fog.

What lay within your essence? The web of your being was confused, and the parts that formed you—female, daughter, wife, creature—never merged to become something that was truly yours.

Your purpose was another's comfort. But what value did your own soul hold? Your destiny was to belong to someone, but what remained, save for a corpse bride waiting?

You were not made by passion, by science, or by the desire for freedom of death. Your life was a pale echo, a satellite condemned to orbit the existence of another creature.

[greinch]

tw: horror, lowkey body horror, monster fucking with no fucking, weird ways of flirting and courting, creepy mermaid

gender neutral no pronouns for reader, the monster here is introduced as a “she”

a/n: I was inspired by my love for mermaids/sirens and the tv show Siren, I just wanted to make it darker and more sea creature like. I’m tagging as many sea creatures as I could since there’s no indication of who it’s

The rain collapses outside as though the heavens themselves were coming apart.

Beneath the thin sheet, you feel the invisible weight of the world crushing your shoulders. Trembling, slick with sweat, you squeeze your eyes shut, pretending you can’t feel the presence.

But you can.

You know it’s there.

The living room door bursts open, slamming against the wall in a rhythm like the drums of some forbidden rite. The wind howls through the windows, carrying with it the bitter scent of the sea — and something older, something deeper.

You listen.

She’s coming.

Her movements are warped, broken — a body dragging itself on all fours, the wooden floor crying beneath the weight of something that should never exist. You hear the sounds of liquid, of flesh and mud being dragged — yet what terrifies you most is the silence between the steps, as if the universe itself were holding its breath, unwilling to wake her fully.

She had never crossed the bed end.

Until now.

You remember — with a suffocating bitterness — the night you left your feet uncovered. You felt her unnatural breath, the icy touch of her hands upon your soles, a contact that marked you forever, deep inside. And now, night after night, the marks spread across the floor. Sharp claws carve their trail into the new wood — wood you now understand was hastily replaced in a pathetic attempt to erase her presence.

But you cannot erase what was never meant to be forgotten.

The air thickens. Reality fractures under its own weight, and you feel yourself sinking into the break.

She draws near.

The groaning of the floor merges with low, wet growls — the primitive speech of something that existed before men ever learned to fear the dark. And now she is beside you, at your hip, breathing cold and decay. You smell death — not the human, familiar kind, but something abyssal, shapeless, purposeless. Your heart pounds, a useless war drum against the inevitable.

You fear death.

Not as an ending, but as a descent into something worse.

Your hands clasp in prayer, the sheet your last, childish shield. And then… she touches you. The weight of her vile body presses against yours, forcing you to the edge of the mattress. She is cold, naked, and wet — as though dredged up from the bowels of the sea. A strangled sound escapes your throat, a note of pure despair.

She isn’t human. She never was.

The sound she makes — a growl folding in on itself, twisting into laughter — splits the air, and you feel her throat vibrate against your skull. The storm reaches its height. A flash of light floods the room for a heartbeat — then the windows shatter, shards flying like black stars.

You try to rise.

But she holds you down — claws shredding the sheets, your skin.

There are no barriers left between you.

Nothing but your flesh — and her hunger.

The fear inside you dissolves into something worse: surrender.

You know — somewhere deep in the ruins of your mind — that even if you fought, it would be futile. The universe had chosen your fate long before you were born. She presses her face against yours, her mouth slick and open beside your ear. And in a whisper that is not only sound, but a trespass into the very architecture of your soul, she says:

“Breathe.”

When morning comes, you wake.

But something remains behind.

The air still hums with the echo of a growl that should never have been.

Your body is mottled with bruises, your ribs crushed between skin and muscle — breathing is an act of agony.

The mattress is drenched in saltwater, sand, and fragments of sea glass.

[greinch]

summary: Overthinking blind your judgement and you can’t see past your insecurities

pronouns: she/her (not gender neutral at all)

tw: insecure/shy? reader, implied that reader doesn’t have boobs as big as nesta and morrigan, body image issues, boobs mentioned, flirting but not much ‘cause I suck at writing about it, almost no hurt/barely any comfort, wanting to puke mentioned, almost no plot at all

a/n: I’m tagging everyone but like… this is really light on interaction again idk whatfuck is this

Like a rude awakening, reality smacks you on the face in the most ridiculous way possible; there you are, sitting among your perfect friends, celebrating who knows what, at Rita's it’s when you realize how miserable you are. How miserable you've always been. Obviously, the small mercies of the world tried to grace you again this afternoon, when you put on the navy blue dress that Morrigan graciously lent you. You felt the first wave of warnings coming when your eyes met your twin on the mirror's reflection, a wide smile not reaching your eyes, empty eyes shining with a sickly green of jealousy; makeup smudged around the eye area, smile lines marking as well as texture accentuated under the foundation, blush a few shades too dark, lipstick color making your teeth look more yellow under the room's light, your frizzy and dried out hair in some points and, the best, the navy blue dress that accentuated everything worst about your body. You hated the way the fabric hugged your hips, how the slit cut too close to the groin and how your arms looked.

You looked wrong, at best, as a gentler compliment.

You remember, at that moment, looking at Morrigan and wanting to die. She had perfect golden hair framing her angelic face, delicate and marked collarbone, a waist so thin you wondered if the simple laws of common sense applied to her, how those proportions of hips, waist, and breasts were remotely possible and where her organs fit. You envied how her eyes sparkled, figuratively and literally, as she leaned over to touch up her lipstick. But you ignored, obviously, the first warning from your more than realistic conscience trying to give you, and now, you sat miserably ridiculous between Morrigan and Azriel.

Cassian laughed loudly, his heavy and defined arm over Nesta's shoulders, who seemed totally unaware of anything they were talking about; not that she wasn't listening, Nestha always listens, she just wasn't interested.

It was when you started staring at Nesta that the second wave came, her well-sculpted profile, strands totally out of the way of her pale and perfect face, drawn mouth slightly pulled down and eyebrows naturally tight in a tense expression. She was also beautiful, not like Mor, but in a sharper and meaner way, marked inquisitiveness in her eyes.

Your eyes were out of your control as it discreetly started analyzing her, while the conversation at the table ran from side to side, up and down. Like Mor, Nesta's breasts filled the neckline of the top she wore with far too much, delicate shoulders and thin arms, strapless top clinging to her skin for dear life, only the cauldron knows how that top hadn't given in yet. Looking at yourself, you suddenly became aware of how yours blatantly floated above your chest, even with magic, it didn't fit perfectly on your curves; it was either too tight or too loose, highlighting everything worse. You summed up your final observations to a soft glow between the curve of her collarbone, long necklace of thin chain extending to near the beginning of her bust curvature. You fought the urge to lean over the table to get a better look, wondering exactly what that pendant would be, however, your body leans against your will and you disguise as you can, adjusting on the bench, thigh practically naked rubbing against thigh covered by typical leather pants and, on the opposite side, rubbing against the smooth softness.

Your discomfort draws attention to your object of admiration, Nesta bringing the wine glass to the lips drawn with a thin and discreet smile. And, as you are blatantly caught staring, your face burns with shame and your neck wets with stressed sweat. Fortunately, Cassian seems drunk enough to not notice you staring at Nesta breasts, but your bench companions notice. With your peripheral vision, you can perceive Mor's discomfort, how she awkwardly shifts on the bench and how she seems to sour automatically. Azriel, in turn, chuckles quietly disguised by the heavy beer glass.

You start to pick at your nails, everything happening down your lap is more interesting now.

Shoulders automatically shrinking, trying to make your figure as small as possible, now you also wish you had brought a coat because you can only think about how big your arms must look, how the fat under the skin would spread more. No matter how small you try to be, it never seemed to be enough, you could never get rid of the feeling that your body simply takes up as much space as possible.

This makes you want to die.

"Hey!" Cassian snaps his finger right in front of your face, frowning deep into his perfect forehead, if a forehead could be perfect "Cauldron, woman! I’m talking to you!"

You snap, eyes leaving your manicured nails and staring at Cassian, a low "Hm?" Scapes while your mouth opens and closes like a fish

"You’re alright, dear?" Rhys, ever the gentleman, says so softly that the thought of melting right there crosses your mind

"I-…I-!" You open and close your mouth, eyes lingering through the table, Rhys tilting his head slightly to the side as both him and Feyre stare at you. No… actually, everyone at the table stares you, and Nesta looks at you like she’s enjoying and savoring every once of humiliation that you now drown in. "Yes! Yes, of course I am, just thinking about what I’m going to drink" Rhys frowns deepened, he adjusts himself into his seat, ready to put salt in the injury, ready to dismiss your, clearly, lie in front of everyone. But he doesn’t, Feyre silently pulling her leash over him tight. You thank her mentally over and over again for cutting short your suffering.

Acid rises through your esophagus, a burning sensation climbing as far up your throat as possible, breathing slightly irregular.

You reek of anxiety and discomfort, and they notice, you silently pray for them to think it's just your natural scent, which isn't too far from the truth.

Trying to shift again, but between Morrigan's thick and supple thighs and Azriel manspreading, there isn't much space left for you. You feel cramped and hot now, extremely hot. And you think you'll start to hyperventilate. Feeling your anxiety picking up, in an attempt to calm you down, Mor intertwines her slender fingers with yours. And you hate yourself more than anything because even in this act of caring to bring you comfort, all you can see now is how perfectly manicured her nails are compared to yours, how delicate and slender her hand is, and if a hand could be perfect, Morrigan's hand certainly would be.

"What… what exactly were you saying again, Cassian?" you try, really try, to steer the conversation away from you because now you're sweating way too much for people to pay attention to you. You wonder if the sweat is leaving wet marks on the dress, you don’t have the courage to check. "Really sorry, didn’t catch up with your monologue."

"S’okay, it wasn’t nothing too special," a shrug from him, "just that you look gorgeous in that dress, perfect even," he says like it’s really nothing, like he didn’t make your heart skip a beat and, to make everything worse, Azriel's tattooed arm snakes around your shoulder and he simply nods casually.

Staring at Nesta like the dumb thing you are, and she smiles slightly. Her smiles were always thin and short, but this one is not teasing or sarcastic.

You want to puke.

"Thanks, Mor did all the work actually."

"Didn’t have much to do then, you’re already lovely," it's Feyre now, and Rhys seems to agree, but you don’t know for sure; Rhys agrees with most things that Feyre says or does.

You only feel the shyness creeping up your face once more.

[greinch]

Several characters on “how they love you”

fandoms: twilight, pjo, the mortal instruments, Harry Potter, jujutsu kaisen, supernatural, dc, snk, Dune

several characters x reader

characters: tbh I’m not going to list everyone because it’s too many people I’ll try to tag every character 🤷🏻‍♂️☠️

pronouns: none (everything is gender neutral)

It can be read as platonic or romantic tbh

tw: “soft-dark content”, HINTS (keyword: hints) of cannibalism as a love language, obsession/yandere vibes, hints of religious beliefs, food? But not really

a/n: I’m extremely confused about this one tbh, there’s a clearly dark feeling lurking here but nothing is explicitly stated so I think everyone is safe. That said, let me know if I’m missing anything that need a tw

Their love for you is like devotion.

For them, you are the transcendental force, orchestrating emotions that defy the confines of earthly boundaries—a celestial symphony resonating within their hearts. Your voice, a tender melody, and your words, poetic threads weaving into the fabric of their soul, embody the very essence of a law they willingly embrace.

In their gaze, your image becomes sacred, akin to a deity they venerate. This love is a feverish thing, a raw emotion intricately woven into the core of their being—so profound that even if stripped of everything, the extraction of your essence remains an impossible feat, steadfast and unyielding, present deep inside their beings.

They love you with a reverence akin to a worshipper's reverence for their god, for in your existence, they discover a representation of the divine, a depth that eludes the grasp of mere mortal comprehension.

Jace Herondale, Percy Jackson, Edward Cullen, Severus Snape, Yuta Okkotsu, Luke Castellan, Draco Malfoy, Bruce Wayne, Mikasa Ackerman, Paul Muad’Dib Atreides

Their love for you is like starvation

Before meeting you, they were oblivious to the fact that they were undergoing a forced starvation, a void persisting throughout their lives. They felt this emptiness akin to the most profound hunger, a hollow within them that couldn't be filled by anything. It was like the most absolute hunger, an echo of inner deprivation. Always distant, mere spectators of others feasting, watching without ever being satiated.

Unaware that they were in a sentimental and existential fast, until the moment they found you. Only then did they realize the extent to which they had been denied all these years. Their hunger for you is ravenous, cruel, and unjust. It devours every morsel you offer as if it were a three-star Michelin dish, for it is. Everything you do, everything you extend to them, is absolute in their eyes.

They are ready to accept everything you offer, always grateful, always proud to, at the very least, be receiving something.

It’s beautifully ugly, a feeling that unlocks something from the depths of nature. It's a feeding frenzy that blinds them to their surroundings, a tunnel vision propelling them in its direction and only its direction. They were driven to the raw submission of hunger, elevated to the highest point, where, inadvertently, they became prey to a stronger and relentless predator: the hunger for love.

Clarisse La Rue, Dean Whinchester, Jacob Black, Jonathan Verlac/Jonathan Christopher Morgenstern, Harry J. Potter, Ryomen Sukuna, Jasper Hale, Jason Todd, Gojo Satoru, Rika Orimoto, Feyd Rautha Harkonnen

[greinch]

𖦹 𝑇𝑎𝑔𝑠

#.lemonpie for +18/NSFW

#.strawberrycake for fluffy

#.blueberrycake for dark content

#.hotchoco for angst

#.bananabread for original works

#.blackcoffee for anons chatting

[greinch]

𖦹 𝑃𝐽𝑂/𝐻𝑂𝑂 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑙𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑠

several characters x reader

characters: Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase, Jason Grace, Thalia Grace, Nico Di Angelo, Frank Zhang, Leo Valdez, Clarisse La Rue, Will Solace

Pronouns: none

× Most is GENDER NEUTRAL, only ONE of Nico Headcanons uses masculine pronouns referring to reader

tw: Cursing, mentions of transphobia, kissing, mentions of nudity but totally sfw (let me know if there's something more)

A/N: some general and random headcanons about little things they do with their s/o and/or crush (there are some random headcanons scattered too)

𖦹 Percy and Annabeth got matching tattoos shortly after they turned eighteen, they don't regret it, but things got a little awkward after they broke up and even more when they started dating other people;

𖦹 Nico can't flirt at all and he's oblivious to it too, you could literally stand naked in front of him and he would just 🧍" yOu WiLL cAtCh a cOLd" while blushing HARD;

𖦹 Frank cried the first time you washed his hair when showering together, it was---- just extremely intimate and overwhelming for him;

𖦹 Percy's a biter, ALWAYS give your bottom lip a lil bite after kissing with NO exception;

𖦹 Jason Grace's love language is physical touch and word of affirmation. Man's a cuddler and he can be clingy sometimes, but he feels ashamed to ask to hug or touch you (at least at the beginning of the relationship) so he just--- sit there dying inside for a hug pls hug him I'm begging u 🥺;

𖦹 Leo Valdez's all bark no bite, if you flirt back he's just freezes. Like, now what? What should he do? He never got that far;

𖦹 Thalia always lends you her jacket (if it fits you, of course) and if your hands are cold she puts your hand inside her jacket pocket while holding it;

𖦹 Clarisse likes to hunt for you, like a cat idk she just wants to show you that she can and will provide to you (shit can get a little awkward if you're a vegetarian);

𖦹 Leo keeps flirting with you, even after you guys been dating for years, he still uses pickup lines;

𖦹 Percy likes to paint your nails and expects you to do the same thing for him, though he doesn't say that;

𖦹 if possible Clarisse will gives you the best piggyback rides and she also flexes a LOT when you're around, definitely a show off;

𖦹 Percy can sing like... Pretty well? It's mesmerizing, lowkey like a siren. He sings you to sleep;

𖦹 Annabeth's extremely competitive and she'll DESTROY you in any game, she's a terrible loser too, gets mad at you cause you're winning?;

𖦹 Nico's the best trans ally that EVER walked on Earth, like boy gets scary if someone tries to say something mean about you;

𖦹 Will Solace always puts snacks in your bag/backpack to make sure you get something if you get hungry during the day and when you started to do the same for him too he cried;

𖦹 Nico asked Leo for dating advice, next thing he knew he was saying to you "Are you lost babyboy?" with a deep fake voice;

𖦹 Clarisse's HUGE and BUFF asf it means that if you are short, you will break your neck and she will have a horrible back pain cause she's literally trying to kiss you all the time;

.

𖦹 Jason wants to be the lil spoon while cuddling but again he never say anything about that cause he's scared of your reaction;

[greinch]

𖦹 𝑀𝑒𝑛𝑢

♡︎ 𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑠, 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑎𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𖦹 Shingeki no kyojin

𖦹 Kuroko no Basket

𖦹 Naruto Shippuden

𖦹 Haikyuu!

𖦹 Voltron

𖦹 Kengan Ashura/omega

𖦹 Inuyasha

♡︎ 𝐵𝑜𝑜𝑘𝑠, 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑣 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑤𝑠

𖦹 Twilight

𖦹 The mortal instruments

𖦹 Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus

𖦹 Alice in borderland

𖦹 supernatural

𖦹 Harry potter

𖦹 Wednesday

𖦹 game of thrones/HOTD

𖦹 euphoria

♡︎ 𝐺𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠

𖦹 Sally face

𖦹 Degrees of lewdity

𖦹 stardew valley

[greinch]

𖦹 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑢𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

𖦹 I will give priority to male!reader (cis or trans) and gn!reader

𖦹 Keep in mind that I said I'll give priority, but if I want or feel like it I can write to female!reader, I'm just too lazy to write for girls.

𖦹 No incest (step or biological)

𖦹 No pedophilia

𖦹 No beastiality

𖦹 No real people, just fictional character

𖦹 Please elaborate your requests, give me something to work with or else I will not be able to write

𖦹 No age regression and DDLG

𖦹 No body excrement (p*ss and sc*t)

𖦹 Only two characters per request (say it if you want separated or poly)

𖦹 Noncom and dubcon will be at my discretion

𖦹 I only write NSFW for +18 characters or I'll aged up them

𖦹 Only character x reader, I do not write character x character unless there's the reader insert