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thewinchestah · 3 months

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"Chega de Saudade" - Alastor X Reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader.

Summary: When Alastor breaks into the V's building seven years later he expects to find a lot of things, lot of obnoxious, enraging, tacky things. He did not expect to find you. The Radio Demon does not take betrayl lightly and you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to his worst enemy. Better yet, you have to live with the consequences of selling your soul to Vox and Alastor finding out. The soul you sold because Alastor left you for 7 years. Safe to say, it's a mess. A pretty, angsty, dark and delicious mess.

Warnings: Alastor is in Hell for a reason,general hellish violence,general hellish creepiness,eventual smut, i carioca coded valentino bc i can and bc he is very carioca sorry everyone,blackmail, Soul Selling, author is really invested in politics and decided to micromanage hazbin hotel canon, Corruption, Extortion, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, but nothing too explicit,mature themes in general, canon divergence, Not Canon Compliant, Eventual Smut, Alastor gets insane in this one you've been warned, fear play, Possessive Behavior, posessive sex, big bad radio demon is gonna fuck up the guy who stole his girl and will make it everyone's problem, Reader-Insert,no y/n,no beta we die like men here, i feel bad for tagging vox in this fic cause i think it's a disservice i really hate him and i make it clear so vox stans be warned, it's hell i hope y'all remeber ethics are fluid, posessive!Alastor, unhinged!Alastor, Isane!Alastor

Taglist: honestly only my queen @jyoongim i have no credibility to tag anyone anymore after being away for so long. If you wanna be tagged on future updates just let me know!

A/N:HI HEY BUNNY ANON IF YOU ARE STILL HERE THIS ONE FOR YOU!! Hiii everyone guess who's back. I had this fic cooking for a while now, actually i had a lot of writing cooking but in a very Ao3 author fashion a lot happened. You see i was on this writing streak and then my 15yo dog died while i was out of state. I had to go back on anti depressants and take a sabbatical. I got a new puppy and she's the light of my life. Got super sick, won a horse show. My first plan for this fic was having the first 3 chapters done and ready for debuting together because i always feel i'm lacking when i show up with only one chapter lol. After a while i realised i needed to get this first chapter out too see the light of day if i wanted to write again so here it is. This fic is a bit different from my other Alastor fics and i have a rough outline of 5 chapters so i think this beast will be more than 20k words long for sure. I decided to get a little deeper into Hell's politics and all the "no one ever thought of using heavenly weapons against hell even tough Hell's ancient and the best worst of humanity and demonkind is here". I call that bullshit sorry i'm brazilian i'm well versed in shady politicians and shady politics and unfortunatly, dear reader, you are in for this ride too. This fic kicks off right after "Stayed Gone". Also did i mention i'm brazilian and that my works are heavily inspired by brazilian media. This entire fic was inspired by one of my favourite songs of all time "Chega de saudade". And let's be real, Alastor and bossa nova are the perfect match. So yeah, english is not my first language and this isn't beta'd so sorry for any confusion or mistakes. Thank you so so much for reading my fics and always leaving the most kind beautiful and heartwarming feedback. I hope i can still deliver a nice story to my darling readers.

Click here for my other fics.

CHAPTER ONE: chega de saudade a realidade é que sem ela não pode ser.

In the first year you were calm and collected. There’s a perfectly reasonable explanation to why he is gone. Is he even gone, gone? He’s coming home soon, you can feel it.

In the second year you convinced yourself there were signs everyone explaining why he was gone and when he was coming back, you were just too oblivious to them before. But everything can be a sign when you are delusional.

In the third year you cried so much you felt you were constantly drowning. You barely left home and some thought you were gone too. Gone to him.

In the fourth year you finally gave in and took the deal. Lack of self-preservation and machiavellian schemes working together to create a trap for him. He would come home out of anger, ire. But you can't outfox the fox.

In the fifth year you decided to scour hell and beyond after him. You went to places just to taunt him. Paranoia became your best friend, blood sweat and tears as you repeat “This time it will work, I'm sure of it”. Can a lie be said so many times it becomes the truth?

In the sixth year you accept defeat. You buried him deep and went about like he never existed in the first place. Isn’t it mystifying how this city screams his name?

It’s the seventh year now. The alarm on your phone rings and rings and you feel like scratching your face off. It’s time to meet your damned executioner.

Rolling out of bed you open the curtains to let some light in. The penthouse from the V’s building has a great view of Pentagram City, looking down you get the feeling of dystopian sci-fi that is so characteristic of the technology district. Limelights, digital outdoors, and big opulent, oppressing screens greet you like a constellation of dead stars, long distorted from their original purpose and form.

You follow processional routine as you get ready. Choose a beautiful dress, put on make-up, and do your hair. It all feels like preparation for a sacrifice. One thing you learned from Alastor is that appearances are the best strategy and you intend to greet your handmade battlefield like a roman legion.

Alastor. Even thinking of his name hurts, especially today when you need to face the consequences of your actions, the consequences of his actions. He is gone, he left you. And now Vox owns your soul. You blame your fall from grace entirely on him, he forced your hand, he made you do it. Out of desperation, out of defiance, you sold your soul to Vox so he would come back and save you, so he would come back out of hatred, anger and ire to tell how foolish you were, how betrayed he felt.

Betrayal. Selling your soul to his sworn arch enemy should be treason worthy of him dropping anything he was doing to come and punish you, to address you. You just wanted to get a reaction out of him, proof that he still cared. That he didn’t just get bored of the empire of terror he fought so hard to build in Hell. That he didn’t, deep down, just disregard you like a shiny novelty, to be left when it got old.

You dry the persistent tears that insist on falling with clinical coldness. You are past feeling sad now, you don’t even feel angry anymore. You are past any emotion really, you just want to get this over with and get back home.

You went about your deal with Vox in many different ways, sometimes you felt like it was a good alliance, a slap on Alastor’s face. A side quest to gather as much information from the V’s inner circle, a social experiment. The truth is, during these past almost four years you were a mental gymnastics pro to justify your new arrangements. The cognitive dissonance required to live with the decision of being forever tied to Vox was an herculean task and boy he didn’t make it any easier on you. He would never be as refined as Alastor when it came to torture but there’s something about the coldness and calculated reality of the television business that was it’s own type of Dante’s inferno.

As soon as he got word of Alastor’s disappearance the TV overlord was on your scent, and he wasn’t shy about it either. You dodged him and led him on for almost four full years before finally giving in, everything was more or less under control during the early years of Alastor’s disappearance.

Until you saw the angel army leaving.

Death and gore were all around you. The sky rained blood. You couldn’t breathe. You tried to take a step forward only to realize you were knee-deep in demon blood. Adam was particularly ruthless this time, he seemed to have realized the unbalance in Hell’s power structure with one of the most prolific demon overlord’s absence and took full advantage of it. You choked on the sulfur filled air while the portal closed and Adam threw a last middle finger at the Pride Ring. A clawed hand offered you support as you were about to fall, your heart skipped a beat, for a split second you felt elation. In that split second a thousand thoughts, four years of misery and confusion passed through your mind like a movie. You were sure this was Alastor, showing up after the unprecedented carnage of today’s reaping. With the next heartbeat came the delivery of the most cruel reminder: the hand reaching for you was Vox’s. Alastor doesn’t care about anything anymore, not even losing territory.

The TV overlord was covered in thick, red blood and looked vindicated, a wide chesire’s cat grin on his face. Baptized in carnage, Vox had finally triumphed for the V’s.The V’s were now a force to be reckoned with in Hell, there’s no argument to be made. A good chunk of Alastor’s territory was now under their control, and everything that came with it too. Including you.

“My darling doe, be careful, we can’t have you hurt after the battle is won can we?”

Darling doe.

You threw up at the casual cruelty of the name Alastor called you with such affection being desecrated by Vox. He still supported you as you spilled your guts, you’d blame it on the nerves, the adrenaline, the reeking smell of death. Not on the fact that you knew he finally won, that the thing that broke you was to hear your name like that, on your lover archenemy’s lips. After that it happened. You sold your soul to vox. Of course he coerced you into it, and you were so mad with grief and betrayal that you felt like betraying Alastor back was the just thing to do. Pettiness and paradoxical hope dripping from your lips as the whole thing was done.

Every year this same flashback assaulted your mind as you got ready to meet Vox on the anniversary of your deal. It never went past the look you gave those pixelated eyes as he held you on that barren land, stopping right there when you made the decision that finalized your ruin. You still wouldn’t, couldn't face what really went down when you formalized your deal with Vox. Those memories were suppressed and tucked in under layers and layers of regret and self-hatred.

You gave yourself a final look in the mirror. No makeup smudging this time, you were getting good at numbing your feelings. Just a few tears, no more sobbing.

The yearly meeting with the V’s after the extermination was the perfect cover actually, everything was done in a way that it seemed like you were all cooperating. After all, you did hold a very good knowledge of the inner workings of Alastor’s deals, subordinates and territory. You knew who the V’s could “call in favours” and how to keep the peace. Or as close to peace as peace came when an abrupt power transition happened in Hell. You were a valuable asset to anyone really. Articulated in politics, masterful at the art of persuasion, kind, soft, charismatic, assertive, all in perfect balance, and frankly, breathtakingly beautiful. It wasn’t without reason that Alastor fell for you and that you became his most trusted advisor. You and Rosie were able to conceal his absence and manage his affairs for good two years and the better part of the third without raising any suspicion. Of course, the bigger they are the harder they fall and now you were walking down the corridor of the V’s building carrying a bulk of important intel that would dictate the fate of the Overlord power structure for the next year, at least.

The hallways of the building changed a lot since you first walked them. As the V’s grew in power, the building grew in grandeur. It was now an imposing beast, looming over Pentagram City. Modern corporate architecture that incorporated the savage capitalism of Vox Tech. Savage, cold, sterile, overbearing that’s how being inside the lair of Hell’s most up and coming trio felt. The tall ceilings and big glass windows were exactly what you would expect of a broadcasting network and silicon valley Big Tech company combined. As an esteemed guest, you got the privilege of staying in the coveted penthouses, with someone to attend to your every wish and demand. You also got an idea that Vox went a little extra with your treatment as a form of flirtation, he has been trying to convince you into moving in for a while, every time you stayed in, your usual penthouse had some shiny new thing that was made just for you, as he repeatedly emphasized.

This year’s token of affection was a makeup mirror-gadget-thingy, that looked out of a Totally Spies episode. You had to admit to yourself that this was way more thoughtful and useful than the gifts from the previous years. The thing was cute, practical and would come in handy, which was a big improvement. Vox had tried to sway you with all types of guns and high tech devices in vain. Well, there was also that embarrassing stance with the wire flowers with a hidden recording device. Needless to say that after that entire debacle Vox learned that he may own your soul but you weren’t a damsel in distress and you would reinforce your side of the bargain if he went too far.

You reached the elevator and went in, pushing the button for your destination.

The earlier you start this the earlier it is over, you remind yourself.

The panoramic elevator descended to the well guarded conference room, the guards didn’t bat an eye to you entering. You realized you were becoming a familiar face around here, that made you dread what’s ahead of you even more.

“There she is! Hello princesa, I missed that pretty face!” Valentino greets you. He’s the only one inside, sitting on the edge of the table. Well, that’s unusual… you think. Vox was always the first to get to the post-extermination meetings, plus he always gave you a slightly early timetable so he could have some alone time with you. Something must be going on.

“Hey Valentino, it’s nice to see you too! What gossip do you have for me today?” you give your best chirpy tone to the love moth. Look, you know how bad Valentino is, he is despicable really, even to your standards. But ethics are fluid, to say the least, in Hell. The acclaimed porn king was surprisingly engaging to talk to. He was fun and actually treated you like a person, which was paradoxical in itself, considering how infamous he is for exploiting and commodifying souls. You drove yourself mad with theories of possible agendas behind Valentino’s kindness towards you, but it was the simplest of answers really, for some reason Valentino liked you and he never denied himself of what he liked.

“You have no idea! We have a lot to catch up on, did I tell you about that bitch who was trying to spy on us?” a set arms gestures to you to sit down next to him. The next 10 minutes are spent talking frivolities with the moth. You’re not complaining, it's nice to get your mind off this dreadful day and you don’t get many.

Valentino, as always, has a lot to say, little goes on in Hell without him knowing who, what, where and why. Information, gossip, rumors, facts, if a single out of context word can be weaponized you better be aware that he knows. Pentagram city can be divided into districts and ruled by lots of different overlords, still, Valentino’s intricate web of influence and coercion stretches across all territories. Another poor soul manifests here and goes somewhere they should not be, talk to someone they should not talk to, discover something they should never know. All cases of “wrong place at the wrong time” are happily solved by a large sum of money from the moth and suddenly another thread is weaved into his web of knowledge, another secret made his. Valentino doesn’t operate like most Overlords and that’s where his power lies. He bribed and fucked his way into every major circle, every overlord’s inner circle, Hell’s best kept secret. If you were anyone in the hellish afterlife Valentino either fucked you or fucked someone very close to you.

Knowledge is power, and Hell’s gossip girl was proof of it.

You swallowed a lump you didn’t know existed, hearing the moth talk about how things changed in a matter of hours during the early post-war made you even more aware of the severity of the intel you were carrying. It was earth shattering (no pun intended) information.

Angels can be hurt. Angels can be killed. That meant a completely different way of existing in the afterlife, if this information goes public, the consequences are unpredictable and dire.

You don’t feel excitement knowing you technically can fight back, you feel pure dread.

To be completely honest, you feel like these “news” are not really news. You were pretty acquainted with politics back on Earth and this whole “omg no one knew about this! even though this was staring us right on your faces! is total bullshit. Hell is ancient, the exterminations are not a new thing, and there are some pretty smart people down here. To think that millenia after millenia masters of torture and skilled killers never thought of using heaven’s own firepower against them is wishful thinking at best. Sure, maybe after a few generations most sinners, even those who have power, may have been kept out of the loop about the chick in the holy army’s armor… but not knowing this at all just feels like a pretty convenient case of collective amnesia.

Convenient, that’s exactly what this is. It’s brutal, but that’s Hell. A scheduled massacre is a blessing to those who rule to maintain, reinforce and extend their power. And if you get lucky enough, empires will fall and you will make your move.

Vini Vidi Vici, that’s all you need to know about how Hell's politics work.

It’s true that with every massacre the Angel Army gets more and more brutal and unhinged. What was once justified as righteous mercy killings to stabilize the ever growing hellish population now is just a display of cruelty, these angels kill for sport. There have been rumors floating around of how the disproportional annihilation tactics are preparation for something bigger for a while now , and with the demonic royal families either operating totally off Pride Ring or being completely MIA, it is no wonder those influential enough are starting to get restless.

And that ties back to your first point, the thing that got you picking the skin around your nails while Valentino gossips. There’s a reason why this is being revealed now, you know how creating a narrative works, a few smart words and ideas become beasts of its own. A beast of its own that will tear anything on its way with the right fuel. The V’s have fuel to spare. Whose interest is that this information stayed hidden? Whose interest is that this information was allowed to be shared now?

Hell is constructed by layers and layers of complicated militias and parallel governance, each one a locked room of secrecy that is impossible to enter without a huge amount of connections and power.

“In a world of locked rooms, the man with the key is king. And, honey, you should see me in a crown” Valentino wisely said to you once. He’s a man of many many keys, and right now you are holding the fucking master key under your arm.

Speaking of Valentino, he notices that you dozed off and snaps his fingers, grounding you back to reality.

“My, my. You must have extremely sensitive information today to keep you from hearing the nastiest, hottest gossip of the moment babe” He takes a hit from his cigarette, an elegant and sensual move straight from an Old Hollywood film. The heart shaped smoke rings caress your face and for an instant you feel hypnotized, nodding your head profusely.

“But I already knew that” behind the rose coloured shades, you see a playful wink from his infamous red hot eyes.

The porn overlord quickly snaps his head towards the huge automatic doors, that open and reveal Vox and Velvette walking side by side exchanging looks between them that scream conspiracy.

“Sorry about the wait, my darling” Vox purrs on your way, stopping behind your chair and placing his hands on top of it, fingers dangerously close to your neck and shoulder. He pushes your hair to the side and lingers there, on your neck. “but as they say ain’t no rest for the wicked, am I right?” Velvette takes her seat beside Vox’s empty chair, meticulously placed in front of you, polite pleasantries leaving her mouth. She’s still a mystery, you never know her true stance on you, she keeps you on your toes. Does she like you? Does she hate you? Does she even care?

“If you say so, boss!” you give him your best pageant smile. “So, who’s climbing up the ladder of the food chain today?” You bat your eyelashes at him. Your performance begins.

“Aw baby, you know I love when you call me boss! keep talking dirty to me” Vox lands a wet kiss on your cheek and makes his way to his chair.

Right in front of you, so he’s always staring at you, drinking in your every move. You cannot fail, you cannot falter.

As much as you’ve gotten used to pretending, pretending you like the V’s, pretending you don’t feel disgusting inside for being here, pretending you don’t hate Alastor for putting you in this situation with a burning passion but still missing him so much you feel someday your heart will stop beating in protest to him absence, it’s still hard. Especially when Vox touches you. Your eyes focus on cybersharks swimming behind Vox’s seat and concentrate on keeping your awarding winning poker face.

“This year looks really promising I will tell you that! The orders for both your weapons and tragedy porn cameras doubled since the last extermination! I will give credit where credit is due, that fuckboy Adam knows how to put on a show!” he snaps his fingers graphs, stats and footage appears on the various screens. But it’s all irrelevant, it won’t matter when you spill your secret.

“Lot’s of veeeery interesting happenings but I thought this year we might… start differently. Let’s forget the profit talk for now, change things a little. Did you guys see anything out of the ordinary? Did something stand out?!” he spins around his Big Boss ™ chair and stops with his hand under his chin, leaning in to you like a schoolgirl with the hottest new gossip.

“Oh! I heard things -” Val also leans in getting closer to the TV overlord face.

Vox’s grin shrinks, lifting a finger in protest

“We know, we know, you always hear things Val” he replies in a monotone tone

Velvette, who spent this entire time typing away on her phone, interjects

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way girlypop” finally looking at you she asks, or rather, states the million dollar question “ but what Vox means is that we know you have something big cooking inside those files, so let’s drop the bullshit and go straight to it”

The doll puts her phone down, she knows how important this is, how this secret will probably dictate how things will go from now on. You can call Velvette many things, but she is clever and under all that attitude and posh accent lies a brilliant strategist.

“Plus, we all know you are contractually obligated to tell anyway, so spill, and can make this quick and painless to everyone involved”

Right, your cartesian, empirical proof that angels can be killed. Caught on the scene of the crime with the gun in your hands.

You don’t waste anymore time, the words leave your lips like you’re choking with the threat they present. You tell them everything: where the exorcist was killed, how he was killed, the golden ichor blood that oozed from the wound, where the body was hidden. Everyone is silent while you speak, even the mechanical sharks seem to have stopped swimming to listen.

After that you don’t remember much more of the meeting, it felt like you took the backseat of your own mind, the overwhelming feeling of dread making you so out of breath. Something is coming, something fucking coming and you can’t breathe. Anxiety sets under your skin like a second skeleton begging to crawl its way out and you find yourself sitting in one of the lavish anterooms of the V’s building.

“So, the cat’s out of the bag then” you recall hearing Vox saying when, as if on cue, a few moments before the meeting was being declared over, the emergency broadcast about the reduction of the extermination date from a year to six months was issued. You four watch the transmission and you wonder if that’s what it feels like to get the news of the end of the Cold War, the doomsday clock finally hits midnight and we are nuking each other out.

Mutual destruction assured.

Your mind wanders back to your life on earth, if life up there is better or worse these days. You died so young, everybody told you, your Untimely Demise a big topic of conversation that you yourself didn’t know much about. But nothing, nothing in all of your living years and your years from Hell to eternity could prepare you for what comes next.

“So the Radio Demon is back in town! Why is he hanging around? What does it mean for your family?”

The news hit your ears like a tsunami and you feel dizzy. It’s easy to find a big screen here and you are running to the closest one before your brain can even compute the words.

Alastor is back, Alastor is back, and he didn’t come find you.

The next sound wave is even worse, dragging you ashore to your feelings without any reprieve.

“Salutations!

Good to be back on the air! Yes, I know it's been a while, since someone with style treated hell to a broadcast

Sinners, rejoice!”

This isn’t a prank, there are no cameras and a sadistic tv host waiting for your humiliating reaction, instead all pairs of eyes in Hell are glued to the screen watching as the two Overlords fight it out.

Thus, no one notices how your entire body shakes and your vision goes black. It’s too much, and you grip the rails from the stairs that lead to the foyer for dear life. Your heart is beating out of your chest. No one notices how you cry, how you whimper Alastor’s name like a prayer, how the tears run down your face and you feel paralyzed. You want to run, a million thoughts per heartbeat making your head swim. The best you can do is collapse on the floor. So you do, you collapse trying to catch your breath as you plan your sweet escape, how you are going to Houdini yourself out of this situation right to his arms.

“Tune on in

when I'm done, your status quo will know its race is run”

You want to kiss him, you want to slap him, you want to tell him how much you missed him, you much your fucking hate him. You want him to drag you to his rooms and make you pay for cursing him out. You want him, you want your Alastor back. You cannot breathe.

“Oh, this will be fun.”

and then all the lights go out.

There’s a beginning of an uproar happening, the electric building dies a quick and unforgiving death, demons run around and Vox is flying down the stairs trying to do damage control. But even he is failing to keep his composure, because he knows. Oh how you know too.

Alastor is like a natural disaster, a shattering force that bends everything on its way with the sheer force of will. The inevitable reckoning that comes to your town, that judges and executes everyone that you love.

And now he is here.

You see the burning red hot pair of eyes first, their predatory gaze hold the entire room hostage, looking for his prey and then they land on you.

The piercing intensity of Alastor’s eyes, the flickering reds of damnation itself, regard you with surprise, elation and something more. So overbearing those eyes are, they make you shiver, bearing the weight of his gaze that penetrates deep into your soul. Your soul that is not yours anymore, it belongs to the man he hates, the man he despises.

The Radio Demon’s towering frame closes the distance between you two in five long strides, you do your best to keep yourself upright and not cower at the sight of him. He looks like Rapture and righteous torture, coming to deliver your setance. Vox knows his sentence is being delivered here and now too, so he runs, runs to you. You feel static and an electrifying pull, metal clinking. A chain. A glowing blue chain on your neck and Vox’s pulling it tight.

“What? what the fuck is going on? what’s this?” snapping your neck quickly towards Vox you whimper, you beg. The few seconds you stopped looking into Alastor’s eyes causing seething rage inside the deer demon, ire that makes the room tremble.

‘“Talk over the radio, that way everyone can hear, baby” Vox says straight at Alastor, like it is a shooting gun. The look on the TV Overlord is maniac, a sideway cocky smile that drips pettiness. Just because Vox clearly lost this battle, with all tvs and electricity on petagram city going dark, it doesn’t mean he can’t still forever tarnish this victory.

Alastor’s demonform covers the already dark building in opaque, thick shadows, radio static picks up around the room like a tornado chocking the majority of the unfortunate demons that are still inside, in a desperate attempt to seek shelter.

No words leave the radio host’s lips as he grows even taller, breaking the posh entrance of the building, debris flying down causing even more damage, the tall glass windows shatter in a million pieces courtesy of his tentacles tearing down everything on their way. The sounds of destruction and despair are loud but you haven’t been listening to the world outside you and your returned lover’s radio dial eye’s for a while. A doe caught in the headlight of his eyes the best you can do in brace for the inevitable impact that is coming your way.

In a flash of his scarlet eyes a fire ignites, the flames born from it are unnatural, behaving like a hive mind to kill and destroy.

You always knew that facing Alastor after these 7 years would not be easy, but you never imagine your reunion like this, in the midst of pomppeian fire, a wild raw power, the oncoming storm that is Alastor when he attacks.

Vox knows this fight is over, his ego hurt and today’s accounts always written as a victorious comeback from the Radio Demon, nevertheless, between the three of you Vox will always know who really won, who drew the last card, had the last laugh. He did, holding Alastor’s girl on a leash because he owns her. The soul of the woman the Radio Demon dared to love is his, the man Alastor despises with a burning passion, and that’s enough for now.

The raging flames circle the three of you and without much more flair Vox drops his act, your chain disappearing from your neck. You drop to the floor, branching yourself on all fours. You consider crawling your way to Alastor, so you can explain, so you can cry, so you can beg. You don’t know for what exactly you will be begging for: your life? his forgiveness? his punishment? you just know a lot of begging and pleading will be involved.

But the decision is made for you.

“Run, run my little darling doe” Vox commands “Run and do whatever you need to do”

You get up on your feet in a completely ungracious move and Alastor’s out of the room instantly. The flames never touch you on the way out, the outside world greets you: a cacophony of screams, sirens, burning sounds, the infernal orchestra that becomes the soundtrack of your life.

“Oh, and by the way” Vox screams from the threshold of the decaying building “we just got news that your place on Cannibal Town got trashed by some wayward sinners during extermination. But don’t worry you can always come home here, come home to me!”

You do your best to ignore his taunting, and you pray to whoever is listening that Alastor didn’t hear it. But it’s futile, the pavement where he is stepping cracks a dark cloud of static and shadows trail after him. He definitely heard and felt the implications of these words.

“Al.. Al!” you scream running after your lover.

Fuck, you’re still in heels, and those aren’t your running heels.

Kicking the damned shoes off you run faster, you cry harder and plead faster.

When you lived, your life always felt a bit surreal, weird stuff happened to you that you couldn’t really explain. People always joked that screenwriters of your life were the most creative people alive, the thing that happened to you never happened to anyone else. You died young, with a big, full life ahead of you, but you took this as gospel to your afterlife, after all everything related to your death was a mystery to you. But the things that happened to you living or dead were a raw reality impossible to make up.

The uncertainty of your death only fuels your resolve to fight for the life you found in the afterworld.

“Al, wait!” you are starting to get truly desperate, you need to get to him otherwise you are pretty certain you will drop dead here and now.

“Alastor please, please listen to me” your voice failing, you finally choking from the smoke, from the suppressed tears. If Alastor doesn’t hear you now you are not sure you can carry on after him, you’re too tired too scared. You him to save you like the damsel in distress you are right now so bad.

Alastor dramatically comes to a halt.

“I. am. Not. Having. This. Conversation. Here.” his voice is staggered, still. Filled with static and a murderous edge to it. His long arms catch your wrist and pull you close, flush against his chest, you almost stumble but a powerful arm around your waist locks you tight to him.

It’s the first touch in seven years, your legs shake at the realization that he’s real, he’s here. You lock your arms around his neck, the familiar fabric of his overcoat, the soft strands of his hair, they all feel like coming home.

Something inside Alastor snaps when he remembers, when he feels how small you are in comparison to him, only one arm securing you safely to him. Some paradoxical fight starts inside him, wild wild want, wild wild rage against tameness, the docile calm you bring whenever you are at his side.

The world disappears for a few seconds as darkness engulfs both of you, inside the black moving vacuum only the two of you exist, greeting each other in bloody homecoming.

Alastor takes you back to the Hotel, landing with a low thump inside his room. For a second his hand supports the small of your back, preventing you from falling forward. After all it’s been 7 years since you shadowtravelled with him, he knows you are terribly out of practice.

His consideration towards you only lasts this precious second thought, because he makes his way across the room, creating as much distance as he can between the two of you. Your touch disarms him, he is aware of that since the first time your hand brushed against his, the first time his lips ghosted on top of your knuckles. If Alastor is touching you he is extremely likely to get soft, to remember how much you mean to him, what you do to him, so he will be merciful. And right now the last thing the deer demon wants is to be disarmed, to show you mercy. He can feel your betrayal burning inside his veins, clouding his judgment with ire and jealousy.

Alastor doesn’t fight those feelings, on the contrary, he lets them take him by storm adding fuel to his already bad temper. That’s the only way he can face you now, that’s the only way he can make you understand.

You don’t get any time to gather your bearings, from the corner of your eye you notice a forest. His room is bigger on the inside and has a fucking conservation area but that’s hardly the most pressing matter at the moment. The pressing matter at the moment is that you are getting whiplash from touching your demon lover for the first time in seven years and his subsequent refusal to touch you, stationing himself across the room to you.

Why isn’t he with you? by your side as you ride the shockwaves of today together? You are scared, but above all you feel overwhelming sadness.

“How did it happen?” he finally snaps, breaking the deafening silence. It’s the first time Alastor regards you, directly, in 7 years and the weight his words bare is so heavy you wish for more of the silence. “Tell me, how did it happen?” his eyes are wild, dangerously close to radio dials.

“How did it happen? You tell me Alastor! You left me, you fucking left me!” you wish you could be your usually articulated self, you rehearsed this conversation so many times in your mind and in none of them you started with such venom on your lips. But it has been too long, and maybe the poison from all those years alone and afraid beside Vox drips through.

The Radio Demon sees the tears that fall profusely from your big doe eyes, and they sting more than an acclaimed torturer like him could have anticipated. Alastor finds himself still disarmed, because with every single glistening tear that falls he can see how hurt, how scared you are. He is the only one allowed to make you scared, he owns your fear.

But that’s the problem isn’t it? He owns nothing. Vox does. And that realization turns him back to feeling seething rage.

“So my mere absence is enough to change your devotion? Is me being here the only thing that stopped you from falling into his arms?” more poison. By the end of the night you both will choke on it.

“Al.. Al” you are sobbing now, your throat tightens and it’s hard to breath it’s hard to speak. “ I had to do it. You don’t get it, you don’t get it.” your voice breaks “hemademedoit, hemademedoit!!”. You swallow half the words, whimpering, as if you say it fast enough the action will quickly become the past, as if the memories won’t haunt you. And yet the memories flood your mind

A dim-lit room, the smell of blood and something burning.

“He is gone baby, and he isn’t coming back”

Electricity makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

A stranger’s hand pushes the hair to the side of your face, dread creeps up inside of you.

“This is the only way my dear, the best decision you can make”

The same stranger’s hand grab you by the waist

“I’m the only one who can protect you now, you know that right?”

eyes that make you freeze, it’s hard to think. eyes that make it hard to say no.

“If this is hard for you, you can pretend that I’m him”

a wrong type of static pricks your lips

“This won’t hurt”

a shockwave hits your body and it feels like you are being split open

You have to steady yourself on the closest piece of furniture. You cower as the repressed memories from the night you finally gave in to Vox assault your mind, trying to make yourself as small as possible, like he is coming back to do it all again. Cries and incoherent words leave your lips and you don’t know if you actually said what happened or if this entire time you have just been crying. You entire body hurts as you hyperventilate “Al, I’m so sorry” you whisper

That’s what undoes Alastor, you curling yourself in a ball, defeated and scared at the ghost of the man he hates. You looking away from him like you are undeserving of him, of his punishment, of his love. Like you are tainted. Alastor can’t make the exact words of your confession about how it happened, but he heard enough. Vox would never make you come to him willingly, Alastor knows that. Whatever Vox did - and Alastor has a lot of ideas of what he did - he will pay double for it.

Alastor’s blackened heart shatters when he calls your name and you don’t look up to meet his eyes, like you always do. He was always your lantern for when you were drowning. He meant to break you, hurt you like that. He just wanted to make you come to him, beg for his forgiveness, beg him to soothe the pain.

“Mon coeur, my sweet darling doe you are safe” Alastor voice goes so soft it hurts “Don’t fret, it’s in the past, it’s over, you are safe with me now as you are meant to be” he coos.

Still, you can’t read your lover’s mind. So you don’t know his heart is shattered, you don’t know how much he loathes himself for letting this get this far. You are so caught up on your own feelings, reeling the rage and the memories that you miss the softness of his voice and his outstretched hard and you inevitably choke on the poison.

“No. No!” you snap “You don’t get to say that. You have no right to say that!” you scream as you get up “I’m not safe, I will never be safe because you weren’t there to protect me, you promised Alastor, you fucking promised” the poison is now inside you, heartstopping waves of hurt consume your body and sprit. Right now the same burning passion that makes you heart beat for Alastor makes you hate him too. You were never good with ugly feelings, you always pride yourself for being soft to be strong. Your kindness and act of rebellion during the hellish reality you lived. You were never good with bad feelings, so you do something you never thought you’d do.

You shove the Radio Demon, that man you love so much it drives you to insanity. You shove him because the shame is too much, all the ugly feelings ball up inside, convincing you that you don’t deserve him, that you already lost him. And you won’t survive his dismissal.

You never talked back to him, you never raised your voice. Not because you were afraid to, but because you never had to, hence the reason why Alastor is so taken aback that your pitiful attempt of violence actually moves him from where he was standing.

Alastor shoves you back, pushing you up against the wall with a searing kiss. He kisses you like you are his last chance at salvation, like he wants to be redeemed. He licks your lips as you struggle to catch your breath, pushing his hips hard against your core, making you straddle him. Alastor doesn’t grant you a moment of reprieve, his lips come crashing down on yours again, his tongue inside your mouth dancing to a madman’s tune. He does what he does best, he takes and takes and takes. He takes your breath away, he takes all the callous words that threaten to leave your lips, aimed at him.

You succumb to your demon lover, your nails dig into his skin and he moans inside your mouth, he bites your lips enough to draw blood. In the end Alastor is still Alastor, and of course he gets all hot and bothered when fighting. You feel delirious with the taste of his lips, your blood and your salty tears mixing together, an unholy ambrosia. His hardness press just the right way to make you sing creating a current of desire after a seven year long drought.

His hands are quick, ridding up your shirt making he grab your ass and then your hips, strong enough to bruise. His clawed finger is already tweaking your nipple that way he knows you love. Your bravado melts, in perfect synchrony to when he sinks his teeth deep into your neck, drinking everything: that wretched poison that tarnished your words, the sacred warmth of your blood. You moan his name like a prayer that he promptly answers, he’s kissing you like a drowning man again, your blood on his lips painting your lips red like you both just drank from the holy grail, his hand cups your other breast and you vow to never speak to him like that again, only if it’s gonna get you up against the wall like that with him.

And then he stops.

“I hope this kiss haunts you” he says, voice still drunk with desire, low and threatening. He swiftly moves you off him, walking away and creating the same distance from when this all started “haunts your every breath, finds its way inside your every waking moment until you are mad with regret”

You are bewildered, eyes widening in disbelief. What is he doing? How can he go from 0 to a 100 so fast?

“I hope this kiss haunts you, so you never forget that you were the only woman who ever had me at the palm of her hand and you decided to throw it all away with that calamitous cynicism of yours.”

So that’s what’s happening. You can never expect to beat a master at his own game, Alastor is still cruel when he is merciful. When push comes to shove he will always win. There’s only so far you can get with taunting his repentance, playing with his heart laid bare at your feet, filled with sorrow and begging for forgiveness. He was ready to apologize, to dry your tears and soothe your fears, worshiping your delicious body and the ground you walked on. He was ready to admit that this was half his fault until your venom stung him beyond the realm of spoken word.

“I understand it now, it must be hard for you to cope with your own decisions, your own failings, so you take it all on me. I hope you remember this when you come back to beg, on your knees for my forgiveness. And trust me, you will.” Of course Alastor would torture you with the knowlodge of his guilt and despair, the loss of his benevolence, the promise of desire and carnality. He will always be a torturer at heart, and you forgot that’s the first rule you need to always remember when dealing with him.

“You’ve got your demons darling” never was your precious pet name said with such disdain. Static starts to gather around you, and in a flash his hand is on your neck

“and they all, Look. Like. Me” his voice is distorted when he finishes cursing you, there’s a tempest behind his eyes that entraps you, the burning red of his irises condemn you.

The Radio demon is a raging fire, an oncoming storm. But he is also meticulous, cruel and calculating, if you dared to question him, to step on the grace he gladly gave you, you clearly were aware of everything he did to lull his absence. All the plans and contingencies he made to hush your worrying thoughts about him and bathe your threshing heart on tranquiline waters.

And you decided to mock it. To mock him and his love for you.

You are crying again, but this time Alastor is fucking glad he was the one to hurt you, to reduce you to a mess of regret and tears.

Tonight in Hell, power shifts from one Overlord to another. Sinners plan and freak out accordingly.

But their machinations are all meaningless.

The 7 years you spent away from Alastor made you sad, the three years spent on Vox’s side made you bitter. The V’s operate on poison, it’s their fuel. And maybe the poison drips through.

Tonight you drank the poison and it broke you.

Tonight, for the first time, the poison broke Alastor too.

#HEY BUNNY ANON THIS ONE IS FOR YOU I NEVER FORGET A REQUEST I TAKE 5 MONTHS BUT I DONT FORGET IT #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you #alastor fanfic #hazbin hotel x reader #the radio demon x you #im insaneeeeeeeee #baixaria #im sorry everyone #alastor #the radio demon #hazbin hotel fic

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halfvalid · 1 year

Text

kitten

ABOUT

alternate title: the pet name 'kitten' is gross when used by men but it's cute when a woman nami says it

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!nami | fem!reader | live action!roronoa zoro

pairing: live action!nami x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k

description: nami is aware you've got a crush on one of the straw hats, and she's determined to find out who—but she's completely oblivious to the fact that you actually like her.

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of “y/n”, pet name "kitten", banter, absolutely tooth rotting amounts of fluff, a little bit of (affectionate) zoro slander

author’s note: i interrupt your regularly scheduled zoro fic posts to provide you with a sapphic nami oneshot instead because she is my wife and i love her dearly.

zoro accidentally popped up a bit too much in this because he's always on my mind. my apologies <3

You’d always liked astronomy. The current-world navigation had nothing to do with the stars, really; at least not when it came to the Grand Line. Unnatural magnetic fields and the odd weather was reason enough for that—but celestial navigation wasn’t even often used in any of the four quadrants. Too finicky, people would say; you know the practice had stopped being in use in the Marines years ago.

Nami knew it all, though. She was the only one of the Straw Hats who could read the stars, the sky spreading out as a map that only her eyes could read.

Your interest in it had always been more… artistic. While Nami babbled on about angles and reference points and sextants, you liked to talk about the planets and heavenly bodies blanketing the sky. It was dusk, and the sun was kissing the horizon good night, dull hues of pink and orange spreading alongside the sea with a golden shimmer as it tucked safely away.

You’d been lying out on the main deck for a good few hours, stretched like a cat along a hammock you’d strung up forever ago, when you heard footsteps.

“There you are, kitten,” Nami said with a laugh, and you sat up to appraise her. The evening glow cast fire to her orange hair, a blazing halo surrounding her head and painting her skin over in gold dust. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

“Hi,” you said with a soft smile. “What for?”

“Well, for one, you missed supper.” Nami gingerly took a seat on the side of your hammock, the canvas cloth rocking from side to side with the motion. “Avoiding your crush again?”

You let out a sigh, half-exasperated as your bottom lip sucked in between your teeth. You nibbled at the flesh there, not responding. Nami had figured out a few weeks ago that you had a crush on one of the other Straw Hats, and she brought it up every so often, although all it did was cause a crease in your brow bone and a flicker of annoyance on your face.

“What, am I not supposed to bring that up?” Nami teased. The light shone in her crystal blue eyes, clear like the sky during midday, not a cloud in sight. “You still haven’t told me who it is.”

“Because you’ll pull something if I do!” you protested. “Don’t try to deny it, you conniving little witch.”

Nami gasped in mock-offense, a hand plastered to her chest. “And destroy your dignity like that? I would never.”

“I don’t trust you,” you answered, and Nami clicked her tongue. “What did Sanji make?”

“Fish. Soup. Rice.”

“You’re so undescriptive,” you said with a wrinkle of your nose. Nami just laughed.

“Not everyone can be as artistic as you, kitten. Come on, everyone left the kitchen already. You don’t have to worry about running into your mystery man.” She winked at the last sentence, and your breath caught. Nami seemed to notice, because she laughed, stepping up from the hammock and grabbing your hand to help you off. “You’re hilarious.”

“I didn’t say anything!” you protested. Nami just gave you a look, and you rolled your eyes, but let her drag you along the ship until you reached the kitchen. “You’re so mean to me,” you said, slumping into the nearest chair available.

“Mhm. Here.” Nami started serving up a plate, loading it full of food before passing it over to you. It was quickly joined by a bowl of soup. “Eat. We’re docking tomorrow, so you should get your energy up. We’re going shopping.”

“Shopping for what?” you asked, bringing the bowl of soup to your lips. Seaweed. “If you say rope and boat parts I’m going to scream.” As much as you liked the pirate life, there was only so much of the technicalities you could take. You weren’t very much a practical soul, lumped in very much with Luffy when it came to your general attitude of your job description. Pirating consisted of adventure and art, in your opinion.

“Rope and boat parts,” Nami said with a straight face. She’d always been the exact opposite, all focused on maps and making sure everything was running smoothly. “Well, only partly. I’ve been sent to go clothes shopping too. And to pick up a few other supplies.” Her eyes sparkled. “You’re coming with me, right? Well, unless you want to join your…”

“Shut up,” you said, making a face at her as you set your bowl down. Nami just laughed.

“Just putting it out there, kitten. I’m sure you might be more interested in going with Usopp to talk to the stevedores. Or Zoro to the local tavern. Or Sanji for the—”

“Nope, nope, and nope. I’m going with you,” you said firmly. There was a whisper of a smile at your lips, but Nami didn’t seem to notice it. “And I still don’t get why I’m a kitten.”

“Because,” Nami answered, propping her elbows on the table as she gazed over at you. “I’m the cat burglar. You’re the kitten.”

“Why isn’t Luffy the kitten?”

“Luffy’s the captain, and I don’t like him as much.” Nami straightened, starting to clean up around the kitchen and load the abandoned dishes from when everyone else had eaten into the sink. You smiled at that. “You don’t like him, do you? I feel like you could do so much better.”

“My lips are sealed,” you answered. Nami gave you a sidelong look.

“That better not be a yes.”

You just shrugged, raising the bowl of soup again and finishing the rest of it before turning to the rice and fish. “Let’s not talk about it. What about you? Any romantic prospects—”

Nami turned so abruptly you almost choked while eating. “I just barely started learning how to make friends. Maybe we wait a few months before we get to that,” she said. You coughed, palm pressed to your lips as you cleared out your airways.

“Okay. Aggressive.”

Nami scowled. “That was not aggressive.”

You pulled a face. “Kinda sounds like you have something to hide, Nami,” you teased, and although you didn’t actually expect her to react, she did. To your surprise, Nami turned away again, the very edges of her face pinkening. You stared at her, heartbeat slowing to a steady thud in your chest. There was a faint taste of panic at the back of your throat, slightly sour and acidic like blood or rust. “Um, what was that?”

“What was what?” Nami asked evenly. Too evenly. You gaped at her back, organs wobbling precariously inside of your chest.

“That—thing.”

“Kitten, if you want me to understand what you’re talking about, you’re going to have to be a little clearer than that,” Nami said smoothly. “Now it’s getting dark. You should get to bed. Last chance to shove yourself with your crewmate of choice.”

“I’m still going with you,” you said stubbornly, shoveling the last of your rice in your mouth before slipping off your chair. You moved around the table, setting your bowl and chopsticks into the sink. “You want me to do them?” you asked, nodding at the dirty dishes that’d piled up. Nami shook her head.

“Go sleep,” she said gently. “I’ll get you in the morning.”

You watched her for a moment, lips twisting before you finally relented. “Night, Nami,” you said, and she turned away. You were safe there for a moment, admiring how the soft backlit glow from the windows etched shadows along her face. She really was beautiful, and your heart thudded fast in your chest.

Nami was the strongest person you knew. The smartest person you knew. The Straw Hats wouldn’t be the same without her, and sometimes you found it funny how she seemed so convinced you had a crush on one of the other members of the crew when it was so obvious that she was your north star.

Ah, well. She’d just have to keep on guessing.

Nami woke you at the crack of dawn, where the hazy rays of the sun just started rising up from the sea shore. You’d traveled to shore while asleep, and everyone was already up and running.

“Luffy left already,” Nami was saying, tying a bandana around her head as you gathered up the rest of the supplies you needed. “And we’ll probably spend the whole day out, so we can get lunch in the village.” She eyed you. “I packed breakfast. Come on.”

You followed her off the ship, savoring the early morning wind along the harbor. The dock men were all already hard at work, milling around the dozens of boats with tools and equipment propped on their shoulders. “Where to first?” you asked.

“Boat parts,” she said, casting you a sympathetic smile. “Some rope, extra sails, some other stuff. After that I’m thinking groceries—I put Sanji in charge of bulk stock this time, so just stuff like soap and necessities—and then clothes.” She grinned. “And some fun stuff.”

“Sounds good to me,” you said. Nami did most of the talking, but you were content to watch her barter, leaning back on your heels as she argued with sellers and eventually left with a satisfied smirk on your face. She hired some of the dock men to carry the ropes and items to the Going Merry, looking her arm in yours and going off to your next stop.

“You know, you’re basically stealing from them like this,” you told her, a smile evident in your voice. “Forty-five thousand berry to thirty thousand. That’s actually terrifying.”

“I said take it or leave it and he took it.” Nami shrugged, but you could see a beam of pride shine through her face. “But enough of that. The market’s up ahead.”

The entire village seemed to have been brought out, because true to Nami’s words, there was a fair going on. Stalls boasting all kinds of wares lined the streets, and you peeked through all of them, even at Nami’s urges to hurry up and focus only on your shopping list. She watched you with a soft smile on her lips, the expressions interlaced with ones of exasperation.

“I should’ve just picked a random man and carted you off with him,” she said with a click of her tongue as you spent far too much time glancing through a stand of knick-knacks and jewelry. “Currently either Zoro or Sanji are my top contenders.”

You barely suppressed a snort, fingers carefully combing through a bowl of baubles. There were various items inside, from earrings missing a sister to pins and little statuettes. “How come?”

“Usopp has Kaya, so I would hope you don’t like him,” Nami said. You raised an eyebrow, glancing up to meet her gaze.

“Kaya’s all the way back in Syrup Village, Nami. She can’t do anything, and who knows when we’ll return there?”

Nami gave you a horrified look. “Kitten, that’s a terrible thing to say.”

You just laughed, dropping your gaze again and picking at the bowl. There was a dull gleam of something at the bottom; it wasn’t gold or brass like anything else there, and was instead a shining, milky white. You dug through the pile, trying to get to it. “You’re such a romantic.”

“Does that mean it is Usopp?”

“I do not confirm nor deny a thing,” you said, finally plucking out what had captured your attention. It was a necklace, the pendant a glittering star on a gold chain. “And I want reasoning.”

“You’re not buying that,” Nami said, gaze flickering down to it before meeting your eyes again. “Zoro because he’s conventionally attractive and Sanji because he can cook.”

You scoffed, studying the necklace. “Those are terrible reasons.”

“I can’t think of any good ones,” Nami protested. “The only thing I can think of are reasons you wouldn’t like any of them. Because they’re all kind of losers and you could do much, much better.” She tilted her head imperceptibly upwards, and you saw a little glimmer in her eye, a reaction that bore uncanny similarity to the one she’d worn the day before. You swallowed, throat suddenly dry.

“You think Zoro’s conventionally attractive?” You turned towards the stand seller, motioning at the necklace. “How much?”

“You’re not buying that,” Nami repeated, shooting you a look. “It’s a waste of perfectly good berry.”

“It’s five hundred at most,” you scoffed, fishing a wad of bills out from your pocket. Nami sighed, but she didn’t argue. “Barely anything. Do you think Zoro’s conventionally attractive?”

Nami looked distracted. “Hm?”

“You said Zoro was conventionally attractive,” you repeated, voice firmer this time. You tried to suppress the little tremble in your cadence as you passed the money to the seller. He counted it and gave you a firm nod. Carefully, you dropped the necklace in your pocket. “Do you think he is?”

“Well—from an objective standpoint—”

You pushed past the swarm of patrons milling around the stands, Nami having to quicken her pace to keep up with you. “Attraction isn’t objective.”

“Kitten.” Nami grabbed your wrist, forcing you to slow down, and you flinched. She tugged you in the direction of another stand, probably something off her list. “Why do you care so much? Am I right? Is he the one you like?”

You wiggled your wrist out of Nami’s grip. “I don’t care, I’m just curious. Because you’ve been blushing for the past half hour and you mentioned Zoro was conventionally attractive. And if you say he’s conventionally attractive that means you think he’s conventionally attractive. So assumedly you are blushing because of—”

It clearly took Nami a moment to unscramble your honestly entirely nonsensical words. “Kitten, I’m trying to figure out whether or not you have a crush on Zoro. You’re not supposed to be trying to figure out if I do. And I have not been blushing.”

You relented, but still couldn’t suppress the pout that threatened your mouth. Your teeth pressed against the flesh of your lower lip, running alongside the skin but not fully biting. “You said Zoro was conven—”

“If I have to hear you say the words conventionally attractive one more time, I swear I will lock you in the hold,” Nami said sharply, and you had to choke back your laugh. “And the reason I said that is because every single time we go out, at least five people turn to stare at his stupid face. Do you not remember that time on Mirror Ball Island? We practically had to fight women off of him.”

“Okay, fine,” you said, a glimpse at her features seemed to support her words. She was as guarded as ever, and clearly irritated, though her vexation didn’t seem as bad as the annoyances she’d hold over the rest of the crew. They never did, really; Luffy always liked to say that you were Nami’s favorite. “I’m hungry. Can we eat?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“I neither confirm nor deny anything,” you repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time in the past week. “Restaurant. Please.”

Nami didn’t look away from you, but relented, and the two of you went to the nearest restaurant to have lunch. You were mainly silent during the meal, replaying the conversation from before over and over again in your head. There was a buzz of uncertainty in the pit of your stomach, one that you entirely disliked.

Before you’d been fine with keeping quiet about your crush—you never felt too threatened or upset, under the impression that your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated and that Nami wouldn’t fall for anyone in the near future anyway. And you didn’t mind her guessing between your four male comrades to find the one who’d stolen your heart.

But the reactions and the blushes were a development. And you were starting to think that Nami herself had a mystery beau.

Nami talked about work during the meal, going down her grocery list and checking off the things she’d gotten. You watched her as she glared down at her notebook, pencil caught between two fingers as she scribbled down notes to herself. “You’re not eating,” you said gently.

“Sorry. Distracted,” Nami answered. She shot you a smile, but it quickly fell as she turned back to her notebook. “What about Sanji?”

You suppressed a sigh. “Are you still on about this?”

“Yes,” Nami insisted. She finally shut her notebook, slipping it into the bag hanging off her waist and picking up her chopsticks to return to her soup noodles. “You’d never go hungry with him around, at least.”

“I think you need to raise your standards. I already don’t go hungry with him around, I don’t need to date him for that.”

Nami clicked her tongue, but it was good-natured. “You’re making this so hard for me.”

“I don’t want to talk about myself anymore,” you insisted, setting down your chopsticks. You’d basically finished your bowl already; there were only the final remnants of broth and rice noodles at the bottom, the soup seasoning darker in color; more pungent.

You fiddled with your hands, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach that persisted even as you thought back to what Nami had said about Zoro. Her reasoning had been sound enough, but you still felt vaguely sick, that bitter taste of sour iron at the back of your throat again.

“Are you okay?” Nami’s eyes met yours, and you flinched away. “You’re acting weird.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered. “I think I’m going to head back to the ship and take a nap. I’m kind of tired.” Before Nami could say anything, you got up, chair scraping along the restaurant floor. “See you later?”

“What? Kitten, wait—” Nami called, but you just swallowed, glancing over your shoulder to shoot her an apologetic look.

The Going Merry was a breath of fresh air as you stepped foot back onto her deck. There were some dockmen milling about, setting material along the deck as Usopp directed them as to where everything went.

You brushed past them to veer towards your hammock, slipping onto it and kicking your legs up along the cloth without pause. Your eyes closed, and you let the sun melt down on your face, the tension in your chest easing as you embraced the beam of the sky.

You stayed there for a while, knowing you were safe as Nami wouldn’t come find you until she’d finished with all her actual tasks. Although this was occasionally irritating if you were in real desire for attention, you appreciated the responsible side of her now. You didn’t have to confront her for a few hours yet, so you spent the time on your hammock, watching the clouds drifting in the sky and picking out the dull stars that shimmered as the sky got darker.

It was just before suppertime when you remembered the necklace you’d bought. Stars were just beginning to materialize, dark blues and purples replacing the cerulean hues that previously blanketed the Earth. You fished the star necklace out of your pocket, peering at the pendant again. It was made of some sort of shimmering stone you didn’t recognize—perhaps opal—that made it glow like an actual star, iridescent when light hit it.

“Hey, kitten.”

You looked up, watching as Nami made her way across the ship deck to where you lay. She looked tired, but still bore a soft smile on her face as she met your gaze. “Hi,” you said, tucking the necklace back into your pocket. Behind her you could see the last of the hired work carrying barrels down to the hold. “Get everything done?”

“Mhm,” Nami said. “Wanna talk about earlier?”

“Not really,” you muttered, the sharp tang of rust dancing at the back of your tongue again. “Sorry about storming out. I felt unwell.”

Nami studied you carefully, arms folding unconsciously over her chest. “I can stop bothering you about your crush, if you want,” she said finally, a gust of a sigh leaving her lips. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s okay,” you said, getting up and climbing your legs over the edge so you were sitting on the hammock. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Nami, I swear.”

“You walked out in the middle of a meal, kitten,” Nami said, and you could hear her voice starting to get upset, even as she tried to level her tone. “Clearly I did. Was it because I kept trying to figure it out? Was I right with Zoro? What—”

“It’s not because of that,” you interrupted, trying to keep your voice gentle even as your chest squeezed inward. You were powerless to your muscles; to your heart as it did a pathetic little thump-thump thing inside of you.

“Then why?” Nami leaned forward on her heels, and the setting sun caught her eyes, kaleidoscope blue glittering a thousand different shades like the opal of your necklace. “Just tell me, kitten. So I won’t do it again.”

“It was because of you,” you mumbled, shying away from her gaze. Nami sighed.

“Yes, we established that I did something to upset you already. I’m trying to find out what—”

“You called Zoro attractive and I was jealous,” you blurted, before you could even think to stop the words from falling out of your mouth. Nami froze, and you lifted your eyes up hesitantly to see her reaction.

Her shoulders were all tense, face guarded, eyes blank from their usual expression. “Oh,” she said evenly. There was an ugly purse tightening at her lips, and she fought to keep them in an even line. “So it is Zoro, then. Thank you for telling me.”

She turned away then, her movements abrupt as she started walking. A pulse of panic captured your heart, and you called desperately out to her, volume far too loud in the late hour. You didn’t find yourself caring. “I wasn’t jealous of you!” you cried, and Nami’s entire body went still.

She turned back towards you, so slowly that you found yourself capturing your breath in your throat waiting for her.

“I wasn’t jealous of you,” you repeated once her eyes met yours. “I was jealous of Zoro. Of you thinking he was attractive.” Your fingers fumbled together, trying to find something to occupy themselves with as you choked out the final sentence. “My mystery man is you, Nami. I like you.”

It took a long while for Nami to respond, and the Going Merry rocked as you waited, a soft sway of delay and building panic. There was a shimmer of something in Nami’s eyes, and her lips tugged downwards.

Her voice was hollow when she spoke. “What?”

“I don’t like Zoro or Usopp or Sanji or Luffy, Nami,” you said, hands tightening around each other with every word spilt out from between your lips. “I like you. I like you when you call me kitten. I like you when you complain about me buying things but let me do it anyway. I like you even when you’re teasing me about my crush.” Your voice dropped to a low mumble. “And I was jealous because you thought Zoro was attractive.”

“Oh, kitten,” Nami said, and you glanced up to see her right in front of you, bent over to meet your level sitting down. She reached for your hands, and you let her take them, exhaling as her tender grasp clasped around your palms.

“Nami,” you whispered, horrified to hear how wet your voice sounded. You blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay. “Nami, you may be the ship’s navigator, but you’re my north star. I like you.”

Kitten, I do not think Zoro is attractive,” Nami said, and you had to choke back startled laughter at that being what she was focusing on. “That is the least of your worries.”

“But—you seemed so annoyed when you thought it was Zoro—don’t you like—”

“You’ve got it all wrong,” Nami said, a soft laugh leaving her lips. They were trembling. Her entire body was trembling, even her hands as she cocooned yours in them. “I was annoyed because I thought you liked Zoro. Because—I like you too.”

You swallowed, surprise forcing your jaw to fall slack as you met her gaze. “Really?” you whispered. Nami nodded; she coaxed soft circles into the skin of your hands, a supportive smile edging up her lips.

“I really thought you liked someone else, kitten, I would’ve said something before if—” Nami let out another gentle laugh. “If I knew. It wasn’t until you told me about the crush did I realize. I got a little… too overprotective, and then… well, it wasn’t very platonic at that point.” She ducked her head, hiding her smile, but you slipped one of your hands out of her grasp to push it back up. “God, you’re too good for any of them.”

“I don’t want to talk about how the rest of them suck,” you murmured. “I want to talk about how amazing you are. Oh—and—” You dug your hand in your pocket, pulling out the necklace. “This reminded me of you. I got it for you.”

“Kitten,” Nami breathed, as you unclasped the necklace and carefully put it on her. It swung around her neck before you adjusted it, golden yellow bright against the white of her pale skin. The opal glittered, catching the moonlight that’d steadily glowed brighter from behind you. “Thank you. It’s still a waste of money though.”

“Not for you,” you said, grabbing her hands to squeeze her fingers. “Never for you.” You took in a nervous breath, your chest tightening inside—but it wasn’t all bitter and sour, nothing like the taste of panic.

Nami met you in the middle when you finally leaned up to kiss her, your hand slipping up the side of her face, fingers curling in her orange hair. She smiled when she kissed, soft and carefree for once, that serious facade she always took on melting away in the moment. She kissed softly; tenderly; like the moon shining gentle waves on the East Blue below or the sun in the hazy morning sky casting light across the world.

There were footsteps approaching from behind Nami. You opened your eyes, tilting your gaze up to see Zoro staring down at you both. Nami broke apart from you, glancing over her shoulder. None of you said anything.

“Okay,” Zoro decided, and then walked off. You barely managed to stifle your giggles until he was out of earshot.

“God, he’s such a loser,” Nami said, and then kissed you again.

#opla nami #one piece live action #one piece netflix #opla #cat burglar nami x reader #opla nami x reader #reader insert #x reader #nami x reader #nami x you #opla fanfiction #opla fanfic #one piece live action x you #one piece live action x reader #kiki writes!

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tin-wufborf · 3 months

Text

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 6)

Hello, hello, hello, and welcome to the sixth installment of this little series of mine! Thank you all again for likes and shares on the previous parts. You all continue to blow me away with your support for this project of mine. Once again, smooches and squeezy-hugs to you all! But only if you want them.

As a quick heads up, we're entering into the "December 2012" era of fics, so you might start seeing a bit of a Christmas theme going on for a for a little bit. Generally, I don't prefer Christmas fics myself, but I'm a sucker for kid and pack fics (you may have already been able to tell), and those tropes tend to work well in a Christmas setting. Consider yourselves warned!

Okay, that's all from me for now. Ta-ta!

List and link to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Nothing Satisfies Me But Your Soul by fadedhues (NR | 1/1 | 1,259)

“My name is Death,” he sings softly, and it’s fucking pretty, like he’s singing a lullaby to the winter sky, “and the end is here.”

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must be a devil between us by hoars (NR | 1/1 | 2,081)

"What? Why would-- Derek, why would your daemon encourage mine to touch you?" Stiles fakes calm well, but his heart gives him away.

"Because Luminera is a deviant." He shrugs. He accepted Luminera's reckless behavior years ago.

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souls of mischief by hoars (M | 2/2 | 2,695)

Stiles’ first memory of his mom is green.

Her green eyes, her green dresses, her green scarves, her green blouses and her green barrettes.

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with the darkness fed by Rena (NR | 1/1 | 2,835)

It takes him several tries to dial the right number; his hands are slippery with blood (warm and sticky and bright red) and his entire body is shaking with the aftermath of puking his guts out, his breath is burning in his lungs and the phone keeps eluding his grasp.

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What Could Have Been by thingcalledlove (G | 1/1 | 2,971)

The camera zooms in on the face of a very beautiful woman who looks vaguely familiar.

“Who’s the babe?” Stiles jokes, turning to look over at Derek.

“My mom,” Derek replies with a glare.

“Oh, shit, dude, I’m sor—” Stiles breaks off his apology as his eyes drift back towards the screen. Beside Mrs. Hale is another familiar face. One he hasn’t seen in a long time. His mother.

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I Don't Want To Be Saved by Lapin (M | 1/1 | 3,132)

And everyone, everyone has their own ideas about this relationship, they all say the same things, they all do. "He's not good for you," "It's Derek," "This is the fourth night in a row," "What kind of asshole dates a high schooler?" "I'm not okay with this."

But Stiles pulls the red hood up, wanders from the path, and he's picking flowers, and he's breathing, "My, what big teeth you have," and Derek bares his fangs, and yeah. Fuck them.

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Will Wonders Never Cease by thecheekydragon (T | 1/1 | 3,632)

Sheriff Stilinski wonders how Derek Hale fits into his working theory of a gigantic, two-ton pissed off moose shot-putting his son’s jeep.

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Practically Perfect by betp (NR | 1/1 | 3,688)

WE NEED A NANNY PROBALLY. Reqirments: - eyes light up - wants to go places - can travel between dimentions - likes cheesebergers - a wear wolf - lisens to good music - SUPER STRONG - favorit color is pink - has friends who can fly - will merry our Dad

There is a stick figure drawing of a werewolf with red eyes and bared teeth, marrying Stiles on a cloud.

Or, "The one that has next to nothing to do with the kids." This is a straight-up unapologetic Mary Poppins AU.

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Laura is Badass by hoars (NR | 1/1 | 5,079)

Laura's not expecting two teenage boys to burst into the bakery, brandishing lacrosse sticks yelling about “Kidnap!” and “Pedobears!” and “Sex slaves are illegal!”

She’s flabbergasted.

“Cupcake?” Derek offers.

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When You Stop Believing in Santa You Get Underwear by owlpostagain (T | 1/1 | 7,817)

There are some salvageable things though. A virtually untouched heavy slate sign that says, engraved in an ornate script that confirms at least one person in the Hale family had a sense of humor (Stiles has a horrible suspicion it might have been Peter), When You Stop Believing in Santa You Get Underwear.

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Beltane by DevilDoll (E | 1/1 | 8,254)

"Watching Stiles heal someone has always been a little uncomfortable for Derek, like he's seeing something intimate and private that shouldn't have an audience. That's nothing compared to how it feels." This is an AU in which Stiles has magical healing powers.

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Your Words Are Robbery by dedougal (E | 1/1 | 12,127)

When Stiles is dragged back to Beacon Hills, he has to face everything he left behind.

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cool story, bro by drunktuesdays (E | 1/1 | 13,087)

Based on a truly ridiculous conversation with Kalpurna about a hypothetical Stilinski Twins situation that ended up sounding something like:

“FUUUUUUCK, is it a sweet valley high situation where Stiles is very aware that his twin is way more attractive and confident than he is, EVEN THOUGH THEY'RE IDENTICAL, and he always ends up with the hotter significant others and more friends and Stiles guesses that's why he's attracted to the pack at first, because it's something that's just his, not his twin's too. But of course, Stiles's twin gets bit and now he's part of Derek's pack, and Derek doesn't snap at him like he snaps at Stiles, never slams him into things, fucking FIGURES, STILES'S TWIN GETS EVERYTHIIIIIIIING.”

Kalpurna/good ideas OTP.

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Stay. by paradis (E | 1/1 | 15,537)

He leaves because the press of Derek’s lips and the sting of his teeth against Stiles’ neck are still burning his skin, and he can’t stop touching them, but then he remembers Derek telling him he’s not pack, he never was, and that he doesn’t belong here.

He leaves because Lydia asks him too, but he doesn’t go back to Beacon Hills because no one asked him to come back.

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What To Expect When You're Expecting (A Litter of Sourwolf Puppies) by Brego_Mellon_Nin (E | 1/1 | 17,422)

The Sheriff sighs and plops down in a chair opposite his son.

“Stiles, I’m going crazy here. We need to get you to a doctor. You sleep like you’re trying to get into the Guinness Book of World Records, and your eating habits are bizarre! You vomit around the clock and for some reason only the tea your mother used when she was pregnant will get your stomach to settle down for any length of time. Is there something you aren’t telling me? Can werewolves get guys pregnant? I’ve noticed how you look at that Hale kid-”

Stiles meeps and flails, sloshing tea down his front. Luckily it’s not scalding anymore, but still hot, so he jumps up and wrenches his shirt off.

“God, dad, no! Guys can’t get pregnant, that’s ridiculous, it’s like...”

“Like werewolves being real?” his dad questions, deadpan.

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Home by cofeeinallcaps (E | 1/1 | 18,464)

Derek has bought a beautiful house. Stiles can't stay away. (In which everyone hangs out at Derek's place all the time and Stiles tries but fails not to fall for a certain socially inept alpha.)

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Assistant to the Consulting Detectives by idyll (T | 9/9 | 18,674)

Stiles is going to NYU and ends up working for Sherlock and Joan.

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Metamorphsis by happyevraftr (E | 1/1 | 20,755)

Life isn’t easy for Stiles Stilinski. This is a truth he’d come to accept a long time ago, so it’s no surprise when an enemy pack shows up in town with a mysterious Alpha that’s hell bent on revenge. Things escalate quickly when Erica goes missing and Isaac is attacked by the new pack. As if that isn’t enough to handle, Stiles own body begins to betray him and he must decide whether to die as a human, or live as a werewolf.

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The Birthday Fic by seussian (E | 1/1 | 21,066)

It's Derek's 30th birthday, and Erica and Boyd have been kidnapped. Again.

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Tutor!Verse series by betp (10 works | NR-M | 41,579)

They meet when Derek is seventeen and hates history almost as much as he hates his ex, Kate, and Stiles is sixteen and taking junior-level history classes. Then they fall in love and do dates on each other and I didn't mean for any of this to happen. By which I mean Sterek fic!

1. Not Another Sterek Romance (It Is Absolutely Another Sterek Romance) (T | 1/1 | 2,405) In which Derek is the worst at history and Stiles wears glasses. 2. Boys, Interrupted (NR | 1/1 | 1,329) "I am the result of your academic ennui," Stiles summarises. 3. Jeepin' (M | 1/1 | 1,368) Stiles warns Derek four days in advance, resulting in Derek unable to concentrate in any of his classes that Friday, because all he can think about is his impending gay deflowering, which--jesus fucking christ. 4. Peer Pressure (T | 1/1 | 1,615) "Can't even answer a simple question, he's too good for that. I hope he knows what we do to kids who are too good to talk to us." 5. Golden (NR | 1/1 | 947) "It's like a recipe for a summer romance movie from the 80s." 6. Catch Me a Catch (NR | 1/1 | 1,828) In which Allison will never understand Stiles' sense of humour, Scott will never understand what Stiles sees in Derek, and Derek wonders what he would spend his free time doing if he'd never met Stiles. (The answer is CoD and literally nothing else.) 7. Education (NR | 1/1 | 2,990) "I'll try anything once." He pauses. "With you. Only with you."

In which Stiles and Derek have been dating for three years, and Derek decides to try something new. 8. Viridian (NR | 1/1 | 5,967) "Dude, forget Stiles." 9. Biological Imperative (NR | 1/1 | 2,206) "I want to have children with you someday," Derek interjects firmly. "Not that I know why I seem to think that would be a good idea." Tin here. Just wanted to pop in and say that this part (part 9) is the conclusion to this series as the next part is a WIP reboot of the series.

10. i brought my pencil (NR | 3/? | 20,924) Your typical, classic nerd/jock au, but with a shittier attitude. (A reboot of this series. Sorry guys.)

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#teen wolf #sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #sterek fic rec list #sterek fic rec #fic rec list #rec list #fic rec #tin's rec lists

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year

Text

Megamind's Secret Files

Formally posted on MegamindsLair.

All fics are Black/Fem coded. All fics are consensual.

Rules and Navigation:

Welcome! Thank you so much for being interested in my blog! I want to make this a safe space for everyone. Please heed all warnings on all my posts. Consider changing your icon and header to prove you're human. Add ages so I can be sure minors are not interacting with my blog.

Anon asks are turned on but don't abuse it with slurs, insults, or demands. Don't make me act out character because you have a stick up your butt. Scroll, move on, or block me. Simple as that. This is where I go to act up and I will not be bullied in my own safe space.

This is for GROWN-GROWN folks. I post adult content and it's incredibly rude to ignore my multiple warnings for minors not to interact.

Requests are tentatively open but please know that I have a hectic home life, a squirrel brain, and multiple issues that prevent me from getting to requests quickly. If you submit a request, I have the right to refuse, deny, or take my time to let the story marinate before writing it. I am not a machine. Please be patient with me.

I do not, have not, can not, and will not write for Michael B Jordan. Thank you for understanding 😗

My tags are all over the place. But generally, you can find:

#Megaminds Updates - general updates about my fics or life in general

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#Megaminds Zooted Hours - I am unhinged during these hours. More so than usual.

Likes are always appreciated, but it's hard to know if you liked the story based on that. Please consider reblogging and commenting to support writers! Liking it means you like it and you're the only one who gets to see it. Reblogging it means you want others to read it too!

No Big Deal Original Writing

How to get on my taglist!

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WARNING: multiple uses of the n-word. Coded for Tyrone/Los Angeles

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WARNING: multiple uses of the n-word

The Secret Franklin Saint Files

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Warning - can turn dark but always consensual. When not stated otherwise, Ghostface is usually anonymous and coded Black.

The Secret Ghostface Files

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(all my white boys with too many fandoms to list)

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Thank you so much for being interested. Happy reading!

How to get on my taglist!

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ambrosialdesire · 1 year

Text

down boy, down

18+ DARK CONTENT BELOW, MINORS + BLANK BLOGS DNI

pairing: gorou x fem!reader word count: 6.5k warnings + tags: general yandere and obsessive themes, explicit sexual content, unhealthy relationships, kinda pwp, slight misogyny, dubcon, edging, male masturbation, heat (rut), knotting, breeding, innocent virgin (for now) & pervert gorou, mentions of panty stealing, brief sub gorou (he's just insanely horny), begging, degradation sorta, religious guilt implications, power imbalance/abuse of power, corruption (kinda, it's just yae miko is just nudging him), all characters are 18+ synopsis: generals are supposed to be the prime example of rigorous restraint and complete self-discipline, but this doggy general can't control himself when your presence is around. gorou feel like he's losing his mind with the way his thoughts only contain the need to completely breed you and it's getting worse as time goes on. a/n: yes i can write something else besides aot lolol some terms are not officially in-game (mostly the military terminologies) and some parts of the lore i sorta forgot because its been so long since i played inazuma's story. i tried as best as i could to fill in. there's not a lot of yandere gorou so i wanted to try my hand at it. this is technically my first smut fic in a while so apologies in advanced if it's bad (i'm terrible at dirty talk cause it's so awkward to write lol). in my mind, he has scars, muscles (but not super super defined ones), and is slightly taller than his in-game model. i wanted to try and write in the guy's perspective cause it may or may not be a practice for some incoming fics hehe enjoy!! note: please keep in mind of the tags above and do not proceed if triggering or uncomfortable, especially if you are a minor!! do not read my or any other writers' dark content if you are underaged. this is a fictional work and does not reflect irl morals, do not believe this is how a real romance works or functions.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.───

For Archons' sake, Gorou's a general.

Someone who has the respect of all that he swore to protect. He's the supposed "top-dog" soldier of Watatsumi Island. He built his reputation from the ground up, spent years upon years training himself to be the best soldier on the island. He's the number one supporter of Sangonomiya Kokomi, the Divine Priestess who entrusted him with leading her army safely through the throes of this terrible war. He's been told he was a humble leader, a man of sincere righteousness, a good person.

Internally, he knew that everyone had it all wrong about him.

They don't know that this man, this soldier, had become a disgusting degenerate of an animal.

Sick, sick thoughts filled his mind when the nights grew quiet and the bonfires outside had soon slowly burned out. The innate want — no, need — to breed, consistently grew stronger with each passing night; it was a genetic predisposition that he felt like he had been cursed with. If he thought about it for too long, he could feel himself harden and strain against the restraints of his garments. He'd get himself to the point where he'd slowly palm himself, his body growing warm and his breathing quickening, but he'd never finish. It was frustrating from the way he'd get oh so close but he just couldn't cum, no matter how much his cock was twitching or how much his tip was leaking out precum.

It was too shameful, too scandalous.

Gorou wasn't always like this. For the longest time, his urges had always been easy to control. His mind had always been focused on battle positioning plans and extreme training regimes, anything to get the upper hand against the Tenryou Commission. It was like everything in him was suddenly rewired the day you joined the ranks.

Usually it was not his place to oversee newcomers, the lower ranked captains were assigned for that position. However, Her Excellency wanted him to train this group of newbies this time around. She told him that it was the utmost emergency, resources and people were running low and she needed time to gather more support. Gorou would never refuse her request so he obeyed her command, preparing himself with speeches and strategies.

Very few people were willing to go up against the Shogunate and her powerful army; he was the one that had to inspire them and ensure that their minds were set for fighting for what was right. They had to fight, not only for the island but for the people who were currently being persecuted in the Inazuma mainland.

As he approached the training area while reading over the speech, he stopped dead in his tracks. A light scent, almost a sweet floral, lingered in the air. It was a complete contrast against the sweat and dirt so he followed after it, his eyes finally landing on you.

You were sparring with one of the other newbies, pinning him to the ground while laughing. You held your own well, the man was twice your size and there he laid in a dazed confusion. His tail fluffed up as he watched you get up and stretch, the disheveled training uniform pulling up and revealing the smooth skin of your stomach.

He felt himself swallow nervously as you noticed his presence, your body stiffening and going into the position of standing at attention. You were the only one to do so, the others scrambling to copy your actions as they finally realized he was watching them.

It was rare to see women in Watatsumi Island or in the village, much less so his age. Most of them either were dedicated shrine maidens, women who were already happily married, or the elderly taking care of their grandchildren while their parents worked outside of the island. To see you was quite a surprise, especially since the other trainees that surrounded you were all men. There was a small handful of resistance soldiers that were the opposite sex, all working alongside Her Excellency as her advisors.

Gorou had to regain his thoughts, trying to shake out your smell out of his head. He began to speak, slowly pacing back and forth as he recited the whole trainee speech in verbatim, finally turning towards them and saluting a dismissal. The crowd saluted in return, soon dispersing to carry out other assigned duties and he opened his communication box to send back a message to Kokomi when all of the sudden, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

It was the flower-smelling soldier, you. He tried not to stare at you while he was talking but your scent was so enticingly distracting, he couldn't help but take a few glances. You were even prettier up close, the particular aroma was even stronger as you stood in front of him.

"General Gorou sir." You saluted quickly, your posture unwavering. You positioned quite well for a starting soldier, color him impressed.

"At ease. Do you need anything—?" He didn't know your name yet, lightly trailing off. You seemed to catch on with his hesitancy, perking up immediately.

"L/N. Private Y/N L/N. And yes General sir, I would like to ask when will we be doing weapon and hand-to-hand combat training."

"In a few weeks. The skills that we will be teaching this week is all physical activity training. It's quite necessary. It would be pretty embarrassing running down the battlefield and falling just because your body can't hold up the armor." He heard you snort, your hands going over your mouth almost immediately. His face grew warm as he stared at you with wide eyes, your gaze casting itself to the ground.

"Sorry General sir, I couldn't help but laugh."

Gorou's tail started wagging, his hand immediately catching it before it could move any noticeably faster. With his other hand, he placed it on your shoulder and smiled.

"Please, you can just call me Gorou. I'm not fond of formalities when we aren't on the field." Your eyes lit up once more, that was the funny thing about newbies. They always look up to the more skilled seniors, especially if they were a high rank like him.

"Yes sir- Gorou." You corrected yourself quickly, causing him to chuckle. The two of you began to discuss, mostly small talk to fill up the time. It was supposed to be a professional conversation but the more he spoke with you, the more personal he wanted to be. The two of you were soon interrupted however, you were needed by one of the captains. He quickly dismissed you, not wanting for you to get any bad first impressions from his colleagues. He didn't realize that his tail had drooped down low when you disappeared from view, the fur flattened down completely.

As the weeks went by, you proved to be a diligent and hardworking soldier, carrying out tasks with no complaints. During his observations, you rarely had any struggle keeping up with the men, not that it mattered in the first place. You were more nimble than most during close combat and you did better with a polearm than a bow or sword. During those weeks of training, he was only observing you. He swore it wasn't stalking, God forbid.

It was innocent at first, what he thought about you. He liked you, he usually liked all of his subordinates but something felt different about you. Was it because you were the only woman in the ranks at the moment? He wasn't like this around Her Excellency nor her advisors, but that was completely out of respect. Didn't he respect you?

The realization hit him when he saw your hair down one night while making his rounds around the camp. You were returning from the bathhouse, most likely bathing after all the men so you could have the well-needed privacy.

You spotted him first, waving a hand from afar. He only noticed when the floral scent hit him, barely smelling the hint of soap along with it. He finally became aware of the fact that your hair was still damp, pooling down over your shoulders. The moonlight bore down on you, giving you a glow that was absolutely breathtaking and then you smiled.

You smiled and everything suddenly felt tight in his body, as if he was being restrained by his own skin.

Gorou was lucky that it was nighttime and he was a distance away. Any closer and you would have been able to see how red his face had gotten. He'd only seen your hair up, a military standard that must be followed for all who had a hair length that went past their shoulders, so to see you like this left him dumbfounded. He quickly waved back and jogged off to his housing early, feeling his heart beat hard in his chest as he shut the door harder than it needed to.

He went over to sit on his bed, doubling over as he clutched a fist over his chest. His body was warming up and it felt like he couldn't breathe, only able to take in quick, sharp inhales. His mind felt like it was all over the place but still was able to only focus on one thing: you.

It was unethical with what he was feeling. He could only remind himself that he is a general — a rank higher than most — and here he was, thinking about a private. You looked up to him, you were supposed to because he was your leader, your guidance in this kind of world. Yet the way you gazed at him with complete adoration and fascination, the way you cheered praises at him when he showed off during sparring, it was getting to him when it shouldn't. Others had done the same but when it came to you, he just couldn't have enough.

Gorou's body felt like it was on fire and he moved to lay down, wincing when he finally noticed that he was hard. This never happened, this never happens. Maybe he could just sleep it off. In the morning, all of this would be gone. These... feelings.

He couldn't relieve himself. If he touched himself and came, it would be considered a sin. He had no room in his plans to visit the shrine maidens and confess something so innocuous. What would he even say? Forgive me, for I have thought and climaxed to one of my lower subordinates inappropriately. He'd prefer getting incapacitated by General Kujou Sara than say anything relating or similar to that.

He sat up and carefully removed his clothes, shuddering as the chilled air touched his bare skin. The bandages that he wore in his lower half were still intact but there was a definite outline of where his stiffened cock was being restrained. Fuck.

Gorou hesitantly went to trace his fingers along the outline, barely putting any pressure against it before he sharply inhaled, looking over and seeing that he reached the tip. It felt good, the wrappings were thinner than he originally thought. Shame soon shadowed over him, his hand retracting to his side and clenching the once-neatly made sheets. He shouldn't be doing this at all. Not when the origin of this came from a subordinate, a subordinate he shouldn't be thinking of in the first place.

He laid back down and shut his eyes tight, ignoring the panging throbs that were tempted to be relieved. He wouldn't let this issue bother him, so long as he can endure it. If he started something he would regret, then may the fallen god Orobaxi strike him down mercilessly.

Days turned into weeks and then into months. No matter how much he slept it off, tossing and turning restlessly in his bed, he was never able to get you out of his mind. He tried to avoid you as well, attempting to limit the interactions to important business only but it seemed that luck had never been on his side to begin with.

It was you who was always initiating, asking if your form is right as you held up the polearm in a perfect defensive stance, making him come to you and press his body against yours to fix your positioning. It was you who was always questioning whether or not a planned attack was coming soon, eyes lighting up as he mentioned a hint of any sort of battle. It was always you. Even when he was trying to map out positions on where a possible vantage point could be in his housing, he'd hear you approach the door and question him about what was arranged for tomorrow.

Some days, he wouldn't let you in. Gorou would tell you that he's busy at the moment and like a good little soldier, you obeyed his request and began to speak behind the barrier. What you didn't know was that his hand was pressing against his bulge as you spoke, biting his lip as he tried to keep himself quiet. His high morals always bit at him, making it so he could never bring himself to finish, a painful shame bleeding into the depths of his soul.

Whenever he heard your voice, it was like something was injected into his veins every single time you spoke to him. Your smell was even worse for him, his tail curling whenever you passed by him. And those eyes, God those eyes. Staring at him like he was the light of your life, turning into little half moons whenever you smiled at him. Everything about you ignited something truly terrible within him and he was addicted, the feverish heat never truly going away as you finally left his doorstep.

Her Excellency was worried about his change of state, telling him that he can take a break if he needed one. She noticed the sweat pool and drip down his flushed out and dazed face, even when the weather was fair and he barely moved an inch besides the occasional shuffle of his legs and tail. He couldn't, he wouldn't, not when the war was still going on. What would she think if he confessed to her about what he was doing to the thought of one of her soldiers?

You were a compelling distraction. A small bump in the road, a large sinkhole that he was struggling to get out of, slipping in deeper with every miserable attempt. The constant arousal and burning heat had diverted his busy mentality, only focusing on how his cock was aching and stirring for any sort of release. It was to the point where he started missing out on his other job, papers and requests piling up on his desk until his incompetence began to not go unnoticed.

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

"My, my, my. I haven't smelled this kind of scent in years, no wonder my best writer has been slacking in his duties." A disappointed but amused tut had Gorou's tail bristling from the sound of a familiar voice, ears flicking and head turning towards the now-opened door. A decorative fan hid her face but he knew all too well who it was based on the red-colored shrine maiden outfit and the long muted pink hair.

"Lady Guuji! You're not supposed to be here on enemy lines." He got up from his desk and quickly closed the door behind her, nails digging into the wood as a pang of warmth ran through his body. Miko closed her fan and walked over to his desk, pushing and prodding papers around with it as she slightly clicked of her tongue. Shit, has he really been that distracted?

"Oh Gorou, as far as I know, the Grand Narukami Shrine sides with no one in this war. I just wanted to see why the aspiring Ms. Hina hasn't been sending over her column responses like usual, you know she's usually so punctual with her postings! But now, I can see — no — smell why." She sniffed the air once more, his cheeks growing redder by the second.

"It reeks of your rutting stench in here, would you be so kind and open up a window for me?"

He obeyed and barely cracked two of his windows open, his tail still puffed up with anxiety as she sighed with displeasure. "You can't just wait this out you silly little pup, you need a release in order for it to go away."

"Re... release?"

Miko blinked once then once more. As if she finally came to a realization, a smug smile grew, her purple eyes glowing with amusement. "Don't tell me this is your first rut, dear Gorou?"

Rut. He heard of it before, the desire to breed whoever his body had chosen as his sworn mate. His father had mentioned it long ago when he was a young teenager but he originally thought that he was excluded from the effects. Why did you have to pop up now, out of all times?

"I'm surprised that you haven't jumped on your beloved leader when it started, I must applaud you for the amount of self-control you have in yourself." Clapping her hands in false praise, he was tempted to snap back at his other boss for assuming that he would ever treat Her Excellency that way when a knock filled the room. Her attention was now at the front door, one of her ears twitching with interest.

"Afternoon Gorou! I have something I want to tell you, may I come in?" He wanted to tear his ears right out of his head, the same uncomfortable warmth bleeding through his skin like an infection. He could already feel the starting familiar stir within the confines of his bandages. He felt like screaming or crying, maybe even both.

Out of all times?! Miko made her way towards the door before he could realize it and nearly opened it, cracks of the outside sunlight peering through. His body collided with the heavy wooden door without him realizing how speedily he reached it, a startled and surprised cry coming out of the other side as he slammed it back shut. Fuck, you sounded so cute.

"Gorou? Are you alright?" You asked, concern lacing within your words and he chuckled internally, already imagining your eyebrows scrunching together.

"Y-yes, I'm fine! Sorry about that, I tripped on my... m-my rut— I mean my rug— yes, my r-rug." He winced afterwards, embarrassed of his unprofessional behavior. A stifled giggle was heard behind him and a low growl came out of him in return, blue eyes narrowed as he shot a look at the pink-haired kitsune.

"Um, okay. Is it fine for me to come in then?" He could feel his hard-on throb, the lack of touch and urge to be in something warm irritating him. Yet the Guuji was still in the room, waiting for him to be finished with this conversation, as much as he still wanted to talk to you. His forehead pressed against the door, eyes closed as he tried to imagine what you looked like behind there.

"No, sorry not today. I-I'm awfully busy, paperwork's been piling up." He was met with silence and then a soft sigh, the tip of his tail twitching.

"Oh. Okay, sorry to bother you again Gorou. I..." There was a light sound of shuffling and two turns, as if you had something else to say. "I'll — um — I'll ask you another day then. Good luck."

The sounds of dirt crushing under your boots slowly began to fade away and he finally let out a relieving sigh, laughter exploding behind him and suddenly all his nerves were on high once more.

"Hah! You haven't chosen the priestess, you chose a soldier. A nice smelling one at least. Why haven't you made your move huh? I'm losing precious Mora because of your interest in her." Miko teased, the sound of her sandals clicking on the floor as she moved around in the small space.

"First of all, I would be abusing my authority. I'd just be taking advantage of her and her respect towards me, God knows if she'd report me for being an absolute disgusting pervert." His fist clenched against the door, waiting for his body to calm down before he faced the fox yokai. Every little cell was begging for him to go and chase after you, to finally, finally claim you as his. A small voice of logic had still made its presence known however, whispering the futures of every consequence that could occur if he had chosen to follow his urges.

"Play your cards right then doggy, you have all the power and control compared to her. And it seems that your patience is waning thin." She ruffled through his bed and with the tips of her fingers, she carefully fished out a small piece of cloth from behind his pillow, a deep color of scarlet burning in his cheeks as he finally turned towards her.

It was an accident, he didn't mean to grab it when he was making his normal rounds. He wasn't supposed to be near the bathhouse but his thoughts were suddenly clouded with a searing appetite, one that he was unable to resist. He didn't even realize that he had grabbed the neatly folded white panty from the bench, his conscious suddenly clearing when the tip of his cock was messily spilling pre-cum all over it when he made it to his home.

Gorou snatched it from her and shoved it into his pocket, a furious snarl suddenly slipping through his bared teeth. He himself jumped at the sheer sound of it, putting another hand over his lips as Miko stared at him in shock before laughing once more.

"This is why I hired you, you keep surprising me general." She sighed pleasantly after, pretending to wipe a tear. She was extremely humored with his heinous actions, as if she didn't care at all that what he was doing was any short of shameful. Miko made her way finally out, her hand on the knob not before looking back at her underling.

"And Gorou?" He flinched, his shoulders tensed.

"Yes?"

"My advice is get rid of your rut, no matter what it takes. You don't want to hurt that little soldier, right? So get her in your bed before your instincts do."

‘•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’'•.¸♡ ♡¸.•’

Even if Miko had told him he should, Gorou couldn't bring himself to do it.

He had merely yielded, telling Her Excellency that he hadn't been feeling well recently and she agreed to let him sort himself through his "illness". She gave him some remedies and medicines, occasionally checking in on him when she wasn't busy planning. None of her treatments were working but she never gave up. News of him succumbing to a sudden sickness had spread through the ranks but their Divine Priestess had told them not to bother him while he was recovering, which he deeply appreciated.

He had locked himself in whenever she left, placing a chair against the knob to prevent any outsiders from entering and each of the windows were nailed shut. Even if he did open a window for a needed draft, he'd still be burning awfully hot. Plus, he didn't need the others to know why he was moaning and groaning in supposed pain. It sucked, everything about this sucked. Maybe if he had just a small taste of you, everything would go back to normal.

No. From the start, nothing about you was normal to him. Every time he thought about you, the heat would get worse and his already-sore dick would swell back to life. Were you thinking about him right now? Did you miss him? Gorou wasn't the type to get envious easily, but the rise of his rut enhanced those feelings to the max. He despised the image about you moving on to other soldiers, especially the higher ups. None of them were as kind and thoughtful as he was, clawing at his pillows at the idea of your sparkly eyes looking at someone else.

He couldn't do much to keep you away from those men, all he was able to do was finish up what he was behind with for Yae Miko and rest everything away, relieving what he can without a complete release. Would the ache go away if he finally did cum? Ugh, part of him wished she had explained this thing to him more but having your boss explain the birds and the bees for their kind would be horrifyingly embarrassing.

Nighttime rolled into the camp once more, his eyes shut in frustration and his hands restlessly grabbing and pushing around his sheets. He couldn't sleep, the pangs getting worse and his brain continuously fogging. If he went on a walk to try and clear his mind, he didn't trust himself not to walk into the sleeping quarters and not take you right there. So he decided to bathe instead, running cold water until it reached the right amount.

Since he wasn't on duty at the moment, there was no hassle in removing his garments, though he did keep the bandage wrappings on since somewhat helped control his urges. He carefully unraveled the cloth, shuddering as his already hardened cock sprung out of its restraints and lightly tapped against the skin beneath his belly button. Trying to ignore it, he stepped into the tub and sighed in relief as the water chilled his overheated body.

Only a few seconds passed by and he couldn't resist not looking. Observing himself, he felt strangely foreign seeing a swollen ball near the base of his dick as he bathed in the cool water of his tub. It was just as sensitive as the rest of him, exhaling a quiet whimper as his fingers brushed against it. As if something nefarious had suddenly grabbed ahold of him, his hand slowly wrapped around the shaft above the rounded flesh and began to stroke himself, the water rippling as he shivered from the feeling.

This was the first time he ever touched himself in this manner, his head arching against the rim as he tediously ran his thumb over the reddened, leaking tip. Despite the water, he could feel the smooth glide of the slick that was continuously leaking out of him. His canines gnawing at the side of his lips, eyes focused on the languid strokes. It was almost torturously slow pace, a building pressure forming at the pit of his lower abdomen.

This was bad, very bad. He needed to stop right now before he crossed a line into sin, an inescapable downturn into hell itself. But it felt so good, so so good.

Gorou panted, his mind forming the image that you were in the bath with him, that you were the one slowly stroking him off. He could feel the heat crawl up his chest to his cheeks, seeing your hooded gaze on him. Despite your training, your hands were always so soft compared to his callused hands. Was it because of the lotion that you used after bathing? God he missed your scent, the panty that he took was already losing your smell.

He let out a low groan as he thought about your flowery aroma and without thinking, he started to mutter your name. His hips bucked against his hand, the bulbous swelling preventing him from going further down to the base. With every rough movement, the water splashed out of the tub.

He imagined you teasing him, telling him that he's going to run the tub dry if he kept on moving so much. Still pretending that you were his hand, he began to pick up his pace, your name on his lips growing louder and louder. You called him a filthy general, asking him how he could think of you in such a way for a lowly soldier, simple cannon fodder. You then asked him why he decided to steal your used panty and he only could muster up a weak apology. He begged you not to tell the others, not to tell Her Excellency that he wanted you, that he thought of you for so long that it was poisoning him and his very soul. Gorou wanted you so badly but you were unobtainable, someone he could never touch. He loves his job, he really does but he loves you even more.

You finally kissed him, the faint traces of his ghastly imagination touching his lips. His pathetic chanting ceased as a blinding white painted his vision, his face contorting and crying out in agonizing pleasure. The waves of his sudden orgasm flowed through his veins as he gripped the side of the tub. He felt the material crack under his palm, bits of it crumbling onto his fingertips. His ears flattened against the side of his head and his tail had wrapped itself tightly around his leg, his breathing uneven and slow.

Gorou finally opened his eyes, his mouth still parted open in a quiet breathless pant as he looked down into the water. A white substance flowed around him, his red face contorting to mild disgust. Short feelings of drowsiness and a small sense of relief that the pain was gone ebbed throughout his body. He unwrapped his hand from his shaft, slightly twitching from the lost feeling.

In a slow realization, he then registered that the burning simply did not die out. No, it almost felt like it had gotten worse. The warmth crawled up his stomach and flushed around his face, the once-cold water now displeasingly lukewarm. He could imagine the sinking fangs of Orobaxi pierce his soul and label him as tainted, a sinner. A small part of him felt no regret, that this is what was meant to happen but most of him — if not all — had a sinking, devastated feeling. He shouldn't have done this, especially with you in mind.

There was a small knock on the door as he got out of the tub from his second bath, almost inaudible if he hadn't had these ears of his.

Weird. No one should be up around this hour, they would most certainly get in trouble if he catches them. He huffed, rolling his eyes. Pranking the sick general, are we? Gorou quickly wrapped himself up with a towel tightly around his waist, approaching the front door with light caution.

"Hello? State your name and purpose." He called out through the closed door, ears perked and twitching around for any signs of life. Maybe it was just a passing animal.

"Gorou? It's just me, Y/N. Are you okay?" Fuck. He's so utterly fucked.

"Uh y-yeah, why wouldn't I be? You shouldn't be out of the sleeping quarters, I won't be able to save you if you get caught." He tried to be as stern as possible but the growing mass underneath his towel was starting to make it difficult to think.

You softly laughed and he could imagine you shaking your head. "Don't worry, I'm sneakier than you think. And I wanted to check on you because I heard yelling coming from your direction. I... I got worried since you're still ill."

Gorou's heart was leaping out of joy. You were thinking about him? Of course you'd worry about him, it was part of your character wasn't it? He could feel his hands grasp at the chair holding the door, almost tempted to rip it out of the way.

"I know I'm not the best at medicinal assistance like Her Excellency but I want to help you. I feel bad not being able to do much besides train without your guidance." You quietly mentioned and his mind suddenly blanked, the heat crawling up his nerves and limbs.

"I do need your help actually."

"Y-you do? Well, I'll do anything to help you get better sir."

Anything, huh?

Gorou pulled the chair away from the door and opened the door, finally seeing you. The glow of his lantern-lit room highlighted your features, admiring seeing your hair down and your sleeping attire loose on your body. He couldn't be more grateful for your naïve willingness. His little idiotic soldier.

He grabbed your shoulder and tugged you into his home, almost slamming the door shut before you could have any change of mind. Your eyes widened as you soon realized that he was fully exposed, his towel barely covering his throbbing lower half. He let you drink in the scars and the muscles he's worked hard to achieve before he finally made a move.

"Wha—" Barely a sound was able to escape you before he collided his lips against yours, bodies toppling over into the wooden ground. In the haze of his lust, he felt terrible that you may have hit your head onto the ground but your mouth was so warm and your lips were so plush that all of his empathy was washed away.

His hands grabbed at the thin pajama pants the military provided for every soldier and ripped them off of you. He made quick work at removing his towel, his heavily aroused cock springing out and brushing against your covered cunt. He could see through hooded eyes that although you were most definitely confused, your fear could barely hide the arousal pooling behind your pupils.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He whispered frantically against your lips as he tore off the white panties, almost salivating as he felt his tip catch onto your bare warmth. A few ruts against your pussy lips and he could already feel some slick gather against his shaft, not knowing if you were getting aroused or that was just his own pre-cum leaking down and making a complete mess.

Slowly or at least, as slowly as he thought he was going, he pushed the head inside. A long and relieved whine came out of him and your back arched, body pressing against his as you cried out from the sudden intrusion. Swiftly, his mouth enveloped yours to quiet you down. It would be a shame if any other soldiers made their way to his home, but then again, he could make them disappear without a single trace left behind. Curiosity is such a fickle thing to have as a soldier, it could end them up dead in a nameless pit or in your instance, speared by a horny general.

His head threw back as he began to thrust shallowly in quick succession, the knot preventing him from going any deeper much to his displeasure. Gorou had never felt such an indulgence in his life, he thought his little session in the tub earlier was everything but this? He could live with the sins building upon his shoulders as long as he could relish in your warmth for eternity.

Your hands gripped on the rug above you, clawing and grasping at it for dear life, moaning aloud as his cock dragged against your walls. The blouse that you were wearing was slowly loosening with every sharp movement he made against you, revealing your chest that he could never bear to look at before. He peeled back the fabric and grabbed one of your breasts, squeezing once before leaning in and sucking on the pert nipple.

His tail twitched in bold satisfaction as you started to whine out his name, begging him to go deeper.

"Yeah? You want that soldier?" His voice rumbled against your nipple, feeling you clench around his shaft as he spoke.

"Y-yes! Please, please just a little more." Obeying, he snapped his hips harder against the plushness of your thighs, the knot pushing and budging against your tight hole. You hissed at the sudden realization of the circular muscle swollen around the bottom of his shaft, but you didn't try to stop him.

Would it fit? No, it had to fit. You will fit him. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you in until you were flushed against his waist. His mouth left your chest, moving towards muscle in between your neck and shoulder. Gorou wasn't going to leave you unmarked, the whole goddamn camp was going to know who he knocked his pups into. It would serve some good to the island, Orobaxi would be pleased to have new followers right?

"Gonna fuck — hah — gonna fuck you up, breed you full of cum. You're my mate, mine." He growled into your ear before he bit down into your flesh. At the same time, he forced his knot into you and clawed the plushness of your hips.

Your pussy stretched and gripped around the enlarged knot, trying to accommodate the sudden thickness. He could barely see your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you came, your walls spasming and milking his cock for his hot cum. Wanton moans were the only noise you were able to make as he continued to fuck deeply into you, his tongue licking at the inflicted mark.

The same pressure in his lower stomach that he felt in the tub overrode his system and he pushed his dick in a little more, feeling the tip hit against a barrier. White stars blinded his vision immediately, his body shivering and shaking as he came hard into your womb. He took in heavy breaths, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

The burning was gone, he could finally feel the air in his room as it cooled down both of your bodies. It was gone but he wasn't done yet, no, he was far from it. Now that he had finally had a taste, he wasn't going to let you leave, not when he had bound himself to you. Figuratively and literally.

His pupils were blown out with pleasure, the blue color barely making its presence known as he began to kiss up your neck. You were barely there, eyes heavy with sleep but still groaning as he began to move once more, walls too sensitive to handle anymore. That's okay, he would breed you in your sleep if he had to.

" 'm gonna put more pups into you." His words slurred as he lazily thrusted, his knot pulling and pushing into a particular nerve bundle. You could only whine in agreement, completely engrossed and fucked out on his cock as you quivered from the stimulation.

Gorou will take real good care of you. What was he thinking before? A general always will need his soldier, what a fool he was for trying to believe that he never wanted you. A rope can only be tightened so much before it inevitably snaps. You belonged here in his home, warming his bed so he could take you whenever he returned from the battlefield. He picked his head up from your neck, kissing you deeply once more.

You were truly a heaven-sent blessing, weren't you? As fate may have it, he had hope that Orobaxi and Her Excellency would bless the both of you with a beautiful litter.

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physalian · 5 months

Text

Content Warnings for Original Books

Can we please encourage content warnings for smut and other triggering topics in published literature? This needs to be a thing. Everyone bashes fanfiction for being fanfiction, but I’ve never seen a fanfic where the smut or trigger warnings weren’t tagged to high heaven somewhere in the description or in the opening author’s note.

AO3, compared to FFN, even has a specific “mature” rating just for sex—”E”—that FFN didn’t have. FFN had nervous authors throwing objectively mild content into the “M” rating (e.g. "rated M to be safe"), which meant that if you wanted to read a story that was a little bit violent, you had to turn off your filters as a kid and sift through all the smut just to find that one smut-less, but violent, fic.

When I was a kid in my early FFN days, I was probably exposed to way more stuff I shouldn’t have been reading because I had to disable the mature filter, just so I could read so-called “graphic violence” from pearl-clutching authors. I’d be looking for that one action-adventure fic that happens to have a little murder in it, and sift through fifty pure-smut summaries that ranged from vanilla to straight BDSM—of which had a high chance of being incredibly unhealthy, but you wouldn’t know that at 10, 11, 12 years old.

Fanfic authors, especially when the fanfic platform gives them the freedom to tag, are very clear to let you know just what you’re getting into.

—

I doubt I need to explain what a content warning is on Tumblr, but I will anyway. A content or trigger warning is a heads up at the beginning of a work of media that there are some elements not meant for younger audiences, or for sensitive audiences, or for people who have experienced situations depicted in traumatic ways, or for people who just don’t want to consume media with such content.

In film, this is obvious. If it’s rated R, you generally know what to expect. Generally. Because an R rated film could be R because of anything from profanity to graphic sex/assault and torture scenes. The MPAA rating system is garbage and ‘harsh language’ is not nearly on the same tier as sex in terms of what we should expose our children to.

Before streaming like Amazon as a platform to get around cable censorship rules, you had premium networks like HBO for all your adult content, and then some shows greenlit on smaller networks like AMC—never on ABC, CBS, TNT, etc. HBO wasn’t only for adult stuff, I used to watch Crashbox all the time.

That was the place you went for media that circumvented foul language, violence, and nudity rules in America. It kind of came with its own built-in content warning by virtue of being on those networks, and even then they still give warnings for shows on HBO, Showtime, Starz, etc.

At the start of every episode, you either get a full screen from Starz with the little icons for profanity, nudity, violence, etc, or it would be up at the top around the episode's title. You'd know exactly what you were getting into.

—

In a fanfiction, because I’ve never seen one in an original book, much less for generic vanilla sex scenes, this is what we’re all familiar with:

A/N: Trigger warning! This story contains mentions of rape/non-con. Turn back now, don’t like don’t read.

They also tend to appear at the top of the chapter that contains said scene to double down on the warning, or will, upon completion, include which chapter or chapter section to skip in the work’s summary or opening author’s note. In the old FFN days, there might even be a 4th wall break mid-chapter. Though the terminology we use over the years shifts, we still manage to get the point across.

Like, if I turn off all the filters on AO3 trying to browse for tags and underloved characters that may be lumped in with stuff I’d rather not read, I’ll see tags like “DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,” which was not a thing in FFN days, even if FFN had allowed things like tags.

While it’s easier to tell in movies due to that shitty-but-functional rating system, that’s not really the case with fiction books. With books, I know the genre, and I know the intended audience age group. If I pick up a book in the children’s sci-fi section, I know it’s going to be something about robots or space or the future and our characters are going to be about twelve years old.

If I pick up a YA thriller, I know I’m going to have a cast of sixteen-to-twenty-somethings and there’s going to be some violence, very vanilla cussing or the author’s own slang, and probably some murder.

Adult or new adult romance—Sex. At least one scene guaranteed.

The problem is that unlike films and TV shows, we don’t get a breakdown for books on what to expect and the nature of those scenes. There’s no little ‘R’ sticker on the back cover and there’s certainly no little insert between chapters to let you know what’s coming next. There's no "trailer" I can read to get a sense of your tone.

So if I’m in the mood for a new adult supernatural romance novel and I have to sit through a vanilla sex scene, that’s fine, that’s what I’m reading it for. But if Mr. Badboy is incredibly aggressive and dominating and being an asshole with very dubious consent, that’s different (although, objectively determining what is and isn't 'dubious' is mighty difficult).

Should I still expect that I take my fluffy or angsty romance with a fat grain of salt just in case?

What happens if it’s not a romance novel, but I get a surprise rape scene as my character’s Tragic Backstory? What if it’s an adventure novel? Spy thriller? High fantasy or historical fiction or murder mystery? If there’s no indication in the genre, summary, or by the style of the cover that I’ll have to read about two characters getting it on?

Some people don’t want to read your characters in all the nitty gritty details. They really like everything else about your book, they just don’t want to read a sex scene, and they really don’t want to be super invested, hundreds of pages and even years of series dedication in, and be massively turned off by smut.

It doesn't need to be this big to-do or hyperdetailed like fanfic. In my upcoming book, I had beta readers with personal and moral objections to some of my themes. From then on, I made sure to ask up front so I didn't trigger my betas.

ENNS is about vampires. I haven't settled on what my content warning page might look like or how exactly I want to phrase it, but it might read something like this:

Dear readers, this is a content warning for graphic violence and adult themes. This book contains mentions of assault, self-harm, and suicide. Please be warned that these themes are present and prevalent in this story and readers should take the utmost care for yourselves when approaching this book. Thank you.

Something like this, just a quick, lighthearted heads up for your novel would suffice:

Dear readers, this book ain’t for kiddies! Be prepared for some adult themes and suggestive romance between characters.

I'm definitely not in the camp of pearl-clutching suburban conservatives, but if I'm browsing for a new novel for my tweenage bookworm and I opened up a book with an intriguing summary, and saw that warning? I'd be much happier with the author for their consideration, instead of buying it blind for my kid. You have no idea why someone wouldn't want to read a sex scene. They might be prude, or they might be a survivor just trying to enjoy a new book.

Because romance and sex is taken for granted, most people are at least going to be open to the possibility of sex, but not everyone will be expecting it or wanting it or think it warranted. It’s not spoilery, it’s not revealing some surprise plot twist, it’s a kind and considerate gesture for those members of your audience who just don’t like sex scenes. And heck, maybe they don't want to read it right now, but they'll remember you and pick your book back up later because you tried.

—

TL;DR: I don’t mind smut. When done well.

There’s a reason romance such a compelling story and why it dominates fanfiction and original works leagues ahead of all other plotlines.

But it still needs a content warning, even if you think it’s obvious, or spoilery, or patronizing. Because if I’m not in the mood for it, it just drags and I want to put the book down instead of reading all your hard work to completion.

#writing advice #writing resources #writing tips #writing a book #writing tools #writing #writeblr #I cant even tag this with content warning #ao3 #ffn #fanfic

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makeste · 11 months

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do you perhap have bakugou whump fic recs?

I have many such recs! not all of them are "whump" in the purest sense of the word, but they've got angst and hurt/comfort in abundance, so yeah.

I also have an older rec post from like five years ago which has quite a few Bakugou whump fics as well, so I'll link that here.

and here are like 16 new ones lol.

some quick notes:

I'm just including links and summaries here, so please make sure to check the tags for each fic if you have certain squicks or triggers you're trying to avoid!

please be aware that I am not very nitpicky about grammar and style and spelling and the like, so long as I'm feeling the characterization and general vibes. so while I can't promise that all of these fics will read like Nobel Prize-winning lit, I can say that I personally enjoyed each one enough to go back and reread more than once.

although it tends to be one of the most common tropes in Bakugou angst fics, I do not vibe with the "abusive Mitsuki" angle, so you won't find any of that in the works below. same goes for Midnight-bashing (which is also surprisingly common).

I also did not include any fics with sad endings just because I didn't feel like depressing myself today lol.

I don't think there are manga spoilers in any of these fics except one (which I noted and marked with an asterisk), but definitely check the tags just to be safe.

lastly, though I'm by no means a prude when it comes to fanfic, all of these particular fics are SFW, just FYI.

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gen Bakuwhump:

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It's Already Tomorrow on the Other Side of the World by Nicole_Silverwolf

In the absolute immediate aftermath of his rescue at Kamino, Bakugou just wants to sleep. If he sleeps then this nightmare will be over. Except he's freezing in the mid August heat. And he can't stop shaking. A glimpse of two imperfect humans trying their best told in 3.5 parts.

post-Kamino Dadzawa and Katsuki. easily one of my all-time favorite BnHA fics. it's so sad and cozy.

Coming Up for Air by achievingelysium

Katsuki has nightmares. He doesn't think he deserves the comfort, but Aizawa-sensei sits with him anyway.

more Dadzawa dealing with nighttime Kacchan angst, since that's like my #1 BnHA fic aesthetic. this is so well-written. like, there are a couple of lines in here that just... guh. just hit right to the core of me.

Bakugou's "Super Fun" Three Day Vacation by Marvelless

Bakugou and his parents arrive home after the Kamino Ward incident for some much-needed recovery time.

post-Kamino Bakufam angst. lots of paranoia and dissociation. this is one of those fics that's sort of a guilty pleasure for me, because Katsuki definitely feels a lot more... fragile?... in this than I think he would have been in canon. but he's still enough of a grump during all of his spiralling that it still feels like him. and I do love me some Bakufam wholesomeness, and this fic has got that in spades.

the art of poor judgement by emelinelou

It's a Tuesday when Bakugou admits to himself that maybe, maybe he is sorta, kinda under the weather. Things go quickly downhill from there. . Alternatively: Bakugou's too stubborn to be "sick," Midoriya and Kirishima are in over their heads, Todoroki is the Most Useful in a pinch, and Aizawa is not paid nearly enough for this.

probably my favorite sickfic. chapter two especially. Bakugou's narration in this is fucking fantastic. he's so fucking done with life. meanwhile everyone around him is freaking out, and he himself is a complete mess even though he won't acknowledge it, and it's just great. it's equal parts funny, sad, and absolutely adorable.

(incidentally, even though this fic is marked as incomplete, it really doesn't feel that way and ends at a perfectly reasonable stopping point, so don't let that put you off.)

Solar Flare by TheQueen

Three weeks after Katsuki Bakugou receives his quirk, he takes a short tumble off a bridge and watches, dumbfounded, as stupid Deku extend a hand. Don’t take it, the universe commands. Don’t tell me what to do! Katsuki snaps.

this is a really cool AU in which Baby Katsuki accidentally starts defying the universe and ignoring his predestined path, which has a profound ripple effect on his life. sort of like a time-travel fix-it, minus the time travel. also just a heads up that Bakugou is like five years old in this so I guess it's technically a kidfic. and there is plenty of angst, a little bit of whump, more Bakufam, and plenty of baby Kacchan and Deku being cute like it's their job.

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BKDK/DKBK whump:

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lose it all (with eyes wide open) by ghostwriterofthemachine

Katsuki is blinded. Izuku is muted. Both of them are kidnapped. Things get worse.

this is one of those fics that just kind of leaves you stunned at how freaking good it is. featuring: psychological mindgames, hopelessly bleak situations, and codependency so utterly raw and desperate that it broke my heart roughly 17 times.

When Ice Doesn't Float by Ma_skee

A simple rescue exercise goes south when Izuku falls through the ice and it goes from a class assinment to an actual rescue and a race against time to keep him from freezing to death.

technically this is more Dekuwhump than Kacchanwhump (though we do get a bit of the latter toward the end), but I'd argue that few things could possibly stress Katsuki out more than being in a tense survival situation in which Deku is hurt and needs help. anyway so yeah. this is classic hurt/comfort and very good.

spinning out of control by mollE

Katsuki joins the 'I've Been Mind Controlled' Club. He wishes he hadn't.

please see above re: how all Dekuwhump scenarios are secretly Kacchanwhump scenarios in disguise. anyway so basically a mind-controlled Bakugou beats the shit out of Deku while being fully aware of it the entire time, and has a complete (and understandable) emotional breakdown afterwards.

all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing by maxisnotokay

Izuku has had this thing about him that Katsuki has never been able to name, but he's been chasing it since he learned how to run. It takes a catastrophic building collapse during their third year and a severe concussion for him to realize what it is. Aizawa loses ten years off his life. When does he not.

gotta love a good building collapse fic. this one has a concussed Katsuki, a very worried Izuku, and the usual "thanks to this intimate life-or-death situation, I have belatedly realized some fundamental truths about the nature of our relationship" tropes. but it's good. a lot of really good banter and back-and-forth dialogue in this one too.

takes one to know one by Sour_Idealist

Deku has left UA. Ochako still looks for him in unguarded moments. Bakugo is, unsurprisingly, being a jerk.

some good emotional hurt/comfort post-Jakku. Ochako has a chat with Bakugou about Deku. specifically, Bakugou's feelings toward Deku. it's good shit.

*fear is the heart of love by nikkiRA

*please be advised this fic contains major manga spoilers!!

Bakugou gets hit by a quirk that amplifies his greatest fear for 24 hours.

losing Deku. the thing that scares him the most is losing Deku. this is a good fic. emotional hurt/comfort for days. though once again do keep in mind that there are a couple of major spoilers in this.

silence is what i do best by notreally

the one where both Izuku and Katsuki were hit with a truth serum sort of quirk, and things aren't going all too well.

not just a truth-telling quirk, but a truth-compulsion quirk, to the extent that (spoiler alert) the quirk causes them physical pain and distress if they don't speak the truth. which, as you can imagine, leads to all sorts of extremely vulnerable conversations and a lot of good h/c.

close by not quite by blossomshed

When Bakugou goes after a beacon during a class-wide rescue op, he doesn't expect to find Deku - or to find himself dealing with the fallout of a gift he doesn't want, and a side of himself he'd never bothered to examine. He deals with it nonetheless.

this fic is so dear to me. it's yet another "Deku transfers OFA to Bakugou fic", but it's just so fucking good. and it also features a (very much confused) ace Bakugou, which is such a rare find. there are lines from this fic which I still think about constantly. it's funny and profound and adorable and so wonderfully IC, please go read it.

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BONUS NON-ANGSTY FICS because I just felt like ending this list with some happy stories where Kacchan gets a lot of love:

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give me compliments (i said give me compliments) by wonhaebunny

“It’s just cute,” Ashido is telling them as she walks into the classroom. “Like, when you compliment someone and they get flustered so easily, don’t you think it’s endearing?” Kaminari blinks. “Like Bakugou?” he asks slowly. - 1-a realises that katsuki is really, really bad at receiving compliments. exposure therapy ensues.

he is bad at accepting compliments. this is a very, very cute fic.

The Friendship Ladder by nikkiRA

Bakugou and Kirishima tell their classmates they're dating, but everyone seems more interested in who gets to claim the newly vacated spot of Bakugou’s best friend.

as the summary implies this is technically KRBK, but the focus here is very much class 1-A as a whole. there's just something about seeing the entirety of the class squabbling over their Kacchan love that tickles me to no end. Deku is also fantastic in this lmao.

The Yoshida Trail by WinterSwallow

Mitsuki Bakugo returns with her gift to the mountain.

last but not least we have this gorgeous character study with a criminally low view count. Mitsuki climbs Mt. Fuji with an eight-year-old Katsuki in tow, as the fic explores his childhood and young adulthood through a series of vignettes. the insights in this really have no business being as profound as they are, given that they're voiced from the perspective of one of the most graceless characters in the series as she observes her equally graceless son through all the ups and downs and tumbles of his life. but somehow that just makes the whole thing even better. idk I just really love this a lot.

---

anyway that's it for now. hope at least a few of these are enjoyable. thanks for the ask!

#bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bkdk #fic recs #bnha fic recs #bnha #boku no hero academia #makeste reads bnha

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sundrop-writes · 5 months

Text

Announcing my new fic: Heaven's Gate

Heaven's Gate is a long oneshot starring Daryl Dixon and a gender neutral reader character, featuring angst, hurt and comfort, and some fluff.

NOW POSTED!!!!!

In this fic, you and Daryl get separated when the prison is attacked by the Governor, and though you both believe the other person is dead, you two end up finding each other at the most unexpected time. This fic is about hope, the human connection, and how love is about more than romance - it's about how people take pieces of each other and grow with them, never truly able to forget each other.

This fic is going to be a longer oneshot that is currently about 15k long - and will likely be longer by the time it has gone through editing. It is 80% of the way done in my drafts (not including editing), and I hope to have it posted by April 30th - which is a tentative date that may change. If you want to know for certain when the fic is posted, you can follow me here and turn on notifcations or you can subscribe to me on AO3 to get an email notification when the fic is posted. I am really excited to share this fic with all of you 💖.

Below is a short preview of the fic - so if you wanna get a better sense for the upcoming fic you can read it. If you enjoy this preview and you're excited for what the fic holds, please let me know!

Also an important note: with my gender neutral reader fics, I don't use any references to gender whatsoever (this is not a 'GN afab' fic). And in this fic in particular, I didn't use any pronouns (other than you/yours) or gendered terms for the reader - and at points where the terms they/them were used, I made it purposefully vague so that the dialogue could be referring to the whole group as 'they' or just the reader. I want my gender neutral fics to be enjoyed by everyone - cis women, cis men, gender non conforming people, trans people - every kind of fanfiction reader.

I am making this post for two major reasons - one, I want to generate as much excitement for oneshots as there is for series. Especially for oneshots that are longer than 10k because those take a lot of time and effort. If a series is like a TV show, then long oneshots are like a feature film. And two - nobody seems to read my pinned post where I announce new upcoming fics anyway, so I might as well make posts like these so that people can know what to expect from me. And hopefully you guys will get excited about my upcoming fics this way. And when I tag these posts with the relevant tags, people interested in those topics can follow me to anticipate the fic if they want to read it.

Heaven's Gate (Daryl Dixon x GN!Reader) - Preview

Preview Word Count: 1,800

Warnings: no pronouns used for the reader other than you/yours; there are major plot spoilers for The Walking Dead if you are watching the show for the first time - spoilers for Season 2 all the way up through Season 5; typical warnings for TWD - mentions of death, emotional despair; all of these themes and emotions are expanded upon in the full fic.

...

“Daryl!”

You called out his name as you jogged up toward the stables, and he stopped in his tracks, waiting for you to catch up with him.

“Daryl, hey.” You greeted him with a small smile. “Rick told me you’d be up here.”

He grunted in reply. “Yeah. ‘m gonna take a horse out. Make better ground t’ look for the girl.”

Your stomach clenched at him mentioning her.

The group was supposed to be headed out towards Fort Bennet - supposed to be finding refuge at the hopefully safe military base. Instead, you were all setting up camp at the very reluctant Hershel Greene’s farm, not straying too far from where you had lost one of your own in the hopes of finding her.

But that was why you had come to talk to Daryl in the first place.

Sophia had become like a sister to you in the few short months that you had known her, and though it was unlikely, you were hopeful that she was alive - that she would be found. And you did believe that Daryl would be the one to find her.

“How’s the trail?” You asked. “Do you think you know which way she headed? You - you can be honest with me.”

You hesitated on the last part. But you did want his honesty more than anything. And you knew that he was never one to sugar-coat things. Even if you hadn’t told him that, he would have given you the truth anyway.

“Trail’s a little muddy.” He said, doling out that honesty. “‘m gon follow the river. It’s her biggest landmark out there, so she’ll probably be somewhere around it.”

You smiled at him. And then, you remembered -

“I brought you something.” You noted, reaching for the back pocket of your jeans.

Daryl watched with quiet curiosity as you pulled out a piece of paper - when you showed it to him, he quickly realized that it was a half-used set of stickers.

“These are some of the stickers that I got for Sophia,” You explained. “My mom always used to tell me that cardinals are good luck.”

You peeled off a sticker of a bright red bird - as much of a nature man as he was, Daryl was never one for bird watching. He didn’t care about identifying certain species of birds unless he could shoot and eat them. But he quickly reasoned that this must be the cardinal that you spoke of.

“Give me your bow.” You said, shoving the rest of the sticker sheet into your back pocket again and holding out your hand expectantly.

“I don’t need no luck.” He replied, voice full of snark.

“Just give it.” You replied - equally snarky, equally stubborn.

Daryl sighed and tugged his bow’s strap over his head, presenting it to you. You placed the sticker on the bow’s handle, in one of the places where it wasn’t as worn down from him holding it.

“There,” You said, giving it back to him with a smile. “Now you’re all set.”

It was more for you than it was for him - a token of good faith and protection. The idea that you could do something to bring Sophia home when you felt so powerless.

Daryl let out a harsh sound - somewhere between a laugh and a sarcastic snort as he walked away. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” You replied brightly, edging on sarcastic once again.

…

When the prison was attacked, Daryl got out with Beth.

He almost couldn’t stand her bright eyes, big eyes staring at him, waiting for answers - her chirpy little voice, prodding at him, demanding that they ‘follow the trail’ and go look for everyone else. Telling him that he was a tracker, that he could find them. As if it was his damn responsibility just because he had the skills to get it done.

It was all too reminiscent of you, telling him that he could find Sophia. That it wasn’t an ‘if’ - it was a ‘when’.

Perhaps that was what got him off his ass and doing what he did best - reading the dirt.

“What’re you doin’?” He asked, staring at the girl curiously as she went to one of the bushes and rushed to pick berries from branches. Had she not gotten enough to eat that morning?

“They’ll be hungry when we find them.” Beth told him confidently.

Of course. That undefeatable streak of optimism.

Daryl knew that blueberries weren’t your favorite - but he should have something to give you. He would be too busy tracking the footprints to properly hunt for squirrels or rabbits and clean them for you. So, he found himself pulling a large bandana from his back pocket and offering it to Beth - something to hold the berries in to keep them safe as an offering for you.

“Here.” He grunted at her.

Beth smiled at him.

It was one of the last smiles she gave him for a long time.

When they came across those bodies splayed out beside the tracks - any sense of hope was crushed inside of him. The picture you had gifted him was heavy inside his breast pocket, and he hated that tears threatened his eyes - even if he knew that none of those bodies belonged to you. There was no trace of you there.

The days started to blur into each other, and Daryl couldn’t get you off his mind.

One hazy evening, as they both stared into the fire with dead looks on their faces, he took the drawing out of his pocket and unfolded it.

For good luck.

He didn’t believe in luck - because it didn’t exist. The world was fucked. Nobody was lucky. You and your good luck were dead.

He tossed the drawing into the fire, and it was only a moment, when the corner of it had barely caught, when Beth snatched it out. She stomped on it with her boot, successfully saving it.

“Don’t do that.” She hissed at him.

Daryl snatched it from her, and crumbled it up, tossing it aside. He let out a grunt, but refused to look at her.

“That was from Y/N, wasn’t it?” She posed.

He could feel her imposing stare as she waited for an answer.

He didn’t give her one.

“You can’t burn them just because you think they’re dead.” Beth sighed. “You can’t burn up memories. We’re gonna find them. Y/N, and Maggie, and Michonne, and - and everyone.”

Daryl scoffed. “Yeah. Cause that’s gon’ happen.”

Beth rolled her eyes, but didn’t speak any further on the subject.

After she had fallen asleep - when the fire was dull, Daryl picked up the crumbled ball and smoothed it out again. The charred corner hadn’t even touched your bird. He felt like a fool doing it, just as much of a fool as he accused you of being, but he folded it neatly - well, as neatly as he could - and then put it back into his breast pocket again.

But that was the thing - Daryl wished that he could. He wished he could burn up those memories.

That you would stop haunting him. Then he wouldn’t have to feel like this anymore.

…

“Can I see it again?” Beth asked, suddenly changing the subject.

Again, this was a confusing little whip for Daryl - something that clearly only made sense to Beth in her own drunken mind.

“See what?” Daryl replied.

“The picture.” Beth answered. “The one you tried to burn.”

Daryl felt a pinch of guilt surge over him at the thought. Oddly enough, this was the one time he would be willing to admit that Beth was right - you can’t burn up memories.

“It was Y/N, wasn’t it? That drew it.” Beth added on, her words slurring slightly - she lifted the mason jar of booze to her lips again and Daryl was tempted to snatch it away from her.

Instead, he found his hand drifting to his breast pocket and reaching to take the picture out. He presented it to Beth, who put down her drink to unfold it - she stared at the picture fondly under the brightness of the moonlight, tracing a finger over the slightly faded details.

“You know… my daddy used to tell me that a cardinal is like an angel.” Beth said, recognizing the bird from her father’s teachings on the farm. “Someone - someone you loved who passed away, watching over you from heaven.”

“Y/N said they was good luck.” Daryl replied.

Beth shrugged. “Same thing.”

It was this thought that kept Daryl going for a long time. The idea that even if you were dead, you were watching over him somehow. He sure as hell didn’t believe that someone like Merle would be an angel - but you, you definitely were. And even if it was a waste of your eternal life, you would be determined to watch over Daryl - to make sure that he was safe, well-guided.

You would make sure that he was lucky.

That thought alone carried him through the long journey to D.C.

It was something that lingered in his mind as the group hunkered down in a random barn - as he spotted something carved into one of the wooden beams holding the place up. Even though it wasn’t colored, he could have sworn that the long tail and pointed head of the silhouette indicated that the carving was meant to be cardinal. Of course.

Who knows who had stayed in the barn before them - if it had been left there by a weary traveler, or even put there by someone who had used the barn before the turn. But Daryl could have sworn that you - your ghost, your angelic hand - had led him to this very spot.

It was a thought that gave him strength as he held the doors up - helped to keep them from caving in while the storm raged outside.

Your luck, and your damn bird - you would keep him safe.

When they reached Alexandria, and they were forced to give up their weapons - Daryl spotted your bird perched on the fence. Bright red, with its pointy head cocked sideways at him. All too knowing, staring at him like it wanted to say something. Just like it had been when he had fallen off the cliff out in the woods when he had been looking for Sophia.

Oddly enough, it made him feel safe giving up his crossbow - perching it on top of the fully loaded cart of weapons before the awkward, bespeckled woman wheeled it away.

Rick was still weary of this new place after Terminus, and Daryl understood. He followed Rick’s lead. Especially because he couldn’t tell Rick that he had a good feeling about this place because he saw a damn bird.

But even if it was just in spirit, he felt you there. He knew that it was the home you had chosen for them.

#sundrop speaks #sundrop writes #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x gn reader #twd daryl #daryl x reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x you #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #the walking dead #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #twd x reader #twd x you #twd x y/n

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touyas-multi-purpose-saline · 1 month

Note

Could I request letter yarrow or zinnia of the yandere flower thing for Rappa? Though he seems more like a 'babe' and not 'darling' type akdjfsk -

Also lily for Overhaul would be SO fitting if you're interested in one for him 👀 thank you!!

cw: Yandere Themes, Mentions / Allusions to Violence / Past Violence, Injury / Injury Imagery, Possessive Behavior, Isolation / Allusions to Isolation, Hinted Kidnapping, Unhealthy Relationships, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Themes not Suitable for Immature Audiences, Gender-Neutral Reader — Read at your own discretion! 18+ Only!

author's note: This is my first request! I hope that you enjoy. It was fun attempting to write Rappa—I enjoyed it! I also did your request for Overhaul, but I will post that fic in a separate post. This was a prompt from "Yandere Prompts Flower Language" and can be found here . REQUESTS ARE STILL OPEN—READ TAGS! I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any sense! This is strictly fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

PROMPT: Yarrow (Healing): "Let me heal your wounds, darling."

word count: Approximately 1k.

His stare burns into you.

Even though that floppy mask covers his face, drenches his eyes, it’s like they’re present, ever watching. You’ve always kind of felt like that everlasting gaze would just follow you everywhere you go. It would lurk in the backdrop, golden eyes a syrupy mess that was too thick to swim through. But they’re hidden, so you’ll never be able to see what emotions are dancing around before him. All you can do is bare yourself to him, arms outstretched and turned upside down. The flat of your forearms seem to glisten with sweat, with tears, and you have to curl your bottom lip in to bite down.

“What’d ya do to yourself, doll?”

You don’t want to answer him. The truth will get you in trouble, but a lie will get you even more in trouble. There’s not an option that sounds nice, and you swear you see his knuckles turn white. They squint, brighter and brighter, rich diamonds that offer zero security. You wonder how long it’ll take for those diamonds to encrust the wall, to stud strange patterns with each thrust.

He’s waiting for an answer, but his patience isn’t safe.

“I—I… I fell down the stairs.”

That wasn’t a lie but it wasn’t the truth. No. What had happened was you managed to slip through the guards posted around this underground base. You had meticulously studied every little twist and all of the alcoves this place offered, tucked it away, and stewed on a plan to escape. Months, it had taken months, and you had finally concocted something that you believed would work. It would have. It would have, but that damn freak in the white lab coat had unlocked that hidden doorway to descend the stairs at the very same time you had begun to ascend. Panic had eaten you alive, electricity that had no ending, and you slipped. Crashing and falling, each right angle had cut into you in ways you’d never known before, rattling your bones, knocking your organs from the inside out. And you know he noticed you, but he hadn’t said a word at the time. But there’s an inkling inside of you that your tumble didn’t stay secret for long.

Kendou doesn’t like your answer.

His fists, clenched, begin to unfurl until they’re long tentacles, stretching, thick, and you’re afraid they’re going to wrap around your throat to snap your neck. He’s never truly hit you. He’s too chivalrous for that—but everyone has a threshold. Everyone has a specific amount of chemicals that can be tossed on the neurons of their brain, birthing through axons and receptors, clicking and clicking before they snap.

“That it? Ya ain’t got nothing else to tell me?”

That lab coat freak snitched on you. There’s fury and rage burning behind your teeth, but you can’t do anything. You can’t even grit your teeth, nothing, but it doesn’t stop the broiling. Why did that freak tell Kendou? The two of them never talk! You’ve never seen them interact. The only people you have ever seen Kendou interact with is that Tengai or the boss of this whole underground lair. You must be shaking, that’s why your vision starts tunneling. There’s no other explanation. You’re spinning, everything is, and you’re trying hard to make sure your feet don’t stumble and sway out from underneath you.

You shakily hum.

“N-No. Nothing at all.”

He’s going to ask why you were so close to the exit, that you know. There’s no excuse in the world that you could conjure that would explain that. Kendou knows that you know that. And now that you’ve failed, forever and ever, you’re sure things are never going to be the same. Whatever little freedoms and trust you’d garnered evaporated, completely gone, and there’s no rewinding that. Kendou is never letting you leave this room again—after all of your hard work. Frustration isn’t even a word that can fully encompass all of the vibrations in your muscles, brewing your marrow, making you so very conscious of your state of being. You’re alive, you can feel it, and you can feel all of the times Kendou’s palms have traced over your flesh, have brought you closer to him, have twisted the locks to your chains. This is it. You’re through.

Kendou exhales, and it’s almost a laugh.

“Right. ‘M not even gonna attempt to argue with you on this. Sit on the bed now, and get rid of all’a the clothes covering where you’re hurt.”

Even though you want to kick and scream, even though you want to throw yourself onto the floor and never move again, even though there are tears threatening to rain in your eyes—you acquiesce. Your legs are trembling whenever you take a step back, and you feel like you’re going to faint whenever you clumsily pivot around. Each thud of your bare foot is a gong in your heart, it makes you shake, makes you ripple like skipping stones in a pond, and you feel like you’re walking straight into your grave. How long will you have to live here? How long will this take? When will you be free? Will you ever be able to climb that stairwell to sanctity? Is there even a sanctity?

The bed takes you well whenever your body fumbles and collapses into an awkward sitting position. You stay there, and your whole body is quaking, and you wonder what Kendou’s going to do. Your hands can barely function, frozen stiff, arthritis a vying snake, but you do what you’re told. Each article of clothing weighs a million, but Kendou’s words weigh a billion.

Kendou’s gone and back in a flash, and he’s carrying what looks like a first aid kit. His fingers ensnare that little box, and you’re so very aware of how big and powerful he really is at this very moment. He sighs, and it’s pissed off, but he doesn’t do anything except speak through a low tone, whispering, hissing,

“Let me heal your wounds, babe. And once I’ve got ya all patched up, I’m going to remind you where you belong.”

An everlasting gaze, and you’re trapped right within its clutches.

#kendou rappa #kendo rappa #mha rappa #mha kendo rappa #rappa kendo #rappa kendou #rappa x reader #kendou rappa x reader #kendo rappa x reader #rappa kendou x reader #rappa kendo x reader #yandere mha x reader #yandere mha #yandere x reader #yandere bnha x reader #yandere bnha #my scoville lit.#i take requests for the LoV and Shie Hassaikai

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anemptypuddingcup · 1 year

Text

❤️🤍Mari’s Introduction & Blog Rules!❤️🤍

❤️Hello! My name is Mari but you can call me Pudding or Pudding Cup. I’m a dyslexic twenty year old writer and artist with Sickle Cell Anemia. I love writing and sharing my fics up here on tumblr for people to read and enjoy. I only write for one piece and rarely other fandoms JJK, JJBA now, though if you dig deep enough you’ll find my tokyo revengers phase as well.

Again, I only write for One Piece and occasionally other fandoms JJK JJBA.

🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️

❗️||Requests|| are closed for finishing one sentence shorts.

Finishing current event submissions:

-One sentence shorts submissions.

Let me know if you want it non-con or not!

Check out my rules a bit farther down to see my exceptions. I only write one request at a time so I’ll get to yours as soon as I can. Feel free to choose any prompt and (one piece) character, I’m fully open to your ideas. They can be smut, fluff, angst or whatever you’d like!

I mainly write insanely detailed smut and fluff fics. If I’m free forming I usually go through a cycle though the main characters I write for are Monkey D. Luffy and Trafalgar D. Water Law. I’m not afraid of switching up characters from time to time.

I usually write for female reader since I, myself am a female. If requested, I will write for gender neutral reader…but I sadly don’t write for male since I’m not male. I may accept all genders in the future when I get better with the writing but until then,

Female only! Non-binary if requested.

❗️Check out my favorite imagines & fics i’ve written so far!

Amidst The Shoreline. Luffy Smut.

Stay Occupied. Trafalgar Smut.

I sadly won’t make a general masterlist though I’ve made a series master list for all the series I’ve created so far!

||Series Masterlist||

If you tap a tag on which character you enjoy from my writings, you’ll find all of the fics I’ve written for that character so far. Apologies for my laziness and how unorganized I am.

❗️Working on my Dream Demon Series & Wishes Aren’t Real Zoro Series!

Dream Demon Anatomy!

Wishes Aren’t Real. Zoro Series.

‼️Special 2k fic coming soon!

❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍

‼️ Things I won’t or can’t tolerate in my fics due to the reader’s safety-

-🚫Scat or Piss

-🚫Pedophilia

-🚫Guro or gore

-🚫Incest or Step-cest. I do write for siblings sharing one person though.

-🚫you know the rest, the usual stuff other writers don’t like either.

‼️I allow non-con and dark themes! Please be careful if you aren’t comfortable with these topics.

🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️

🚫Minors or ageless blogs are not allowed here! Though I cannot stop you from reading my fics, please don’t interact if you’re under eighteen. There’s adult content that only adults can read.

Please keep in mind that I want everyone to feel comfy and safe here on my blog, I love all of my followers dearly so I hope you’re all comfy here. (Including non-followers who love my works too!)

Thank you for reading, please enjoy your stay here in my sweet and sugary hell.

Let’s fill that pudding cup of yours~

❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍❤️🤍

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lola-andheruniverse · 2 months

Text

Anon who asked me about "sides" in the caryl fandom and which one I place myself on because you believe I "switched sides"/changed my opinions:

I'm not posting your ask because you named people and that's not something I do on my blog or generally agree with. The only instance you'll find me naming or tagging people is in fic recs posts, so that caryl authors who are on Tumblr can read them and be found by readers who'd like to reach out.

If you have a problem with the opinions, feelings and/or behaviors of a particular individual/blog, I ask you to 1) please reach out to them directly so you can express your disagreement or 2) use your block button, so you no longer see content you don't like. I believe that our fandom is big enough to hold every single caryler out there who wants to join in, regardless of their opinions, posts or feelings. People should feel free and safe to post whatever they want, either 'positive' or 'negative'. I have no problem with anyone in the fandom and I respect everyone's opinions, even when I disagree with some stuff I read.

Please, I ask you to not use my ask box to indirectly badmouth, bully or attack any caryler.

That said, the answer to your question is after the cut.

I'm not on either "side" and never have been. I'm just another enthusiastic fan that loves Carol and Daryl. Since joining the Tumblr fandom just before the pandemic (I was a lurker for many years), I've been using my own critical thinking skills and knowledge of AMC's shenanigans to form my own opinions.

I'm confident in TBOC because I believe there are concrete reasons that support how I'm feeling, from Melissa's return, to filming spoilers and rumors, to Tribeca and SDCC. You're free to agree or disagree with my interpretation of these facts, and to feel positive or negative about it.

I also continue to believe that AMC/Gimple hijacked the original caryl spinoff to highlight the richonne spinoff because it follows similar decisions made before to give Rick more screen time at the expense of all the other TWD characters. I believe Melissa had no choice but to opt out of the original spin-off and negotiate new terms to ensure that Carol's (and therefore Caryl's) story was respected and told with integrity. To me, that's why there were things to be sorted out, as she said, and why she lengthily discussed Carol with Zabel and co. even before scripts for the France spinoff were written. She was involved since the beginning, yes, but she only signed on when she got what she wanted. There is no greater supporter of Carol than Melissa and we have known this for years. I'm glad she's back in her own terms. I believe it was a pretty difficult time for her, as she expressed it by basically refusing to promote 11C or the series finale, and by not saying anything about the whole mess on SM, while other cast members/friends such as Laurie Holden and Khary Payton spoke out in her behalf.

I believe AMC tried to make money off just Daryl because he's their original character and it backfired in their faces. They also made a mistake using Norman to save face as he should have been protected from the SM backlash. Norman has never been a reliable narrator and I always take every thing he says with a grain of salt, but I don't think he's intentionally malicious. I appreciate how much he loves Daryl and is considerate of his fans, even when I don't approve of his behavior. I just wish he would keep his frustrating mouth shut. I believe Norman had lots of input in S1 and that he initially thought he could pull it off without Melissa. But there's no Daryl without Carol and no Carol without Daryl. It's crystal clear how much Norman's happy for having Melissa by his side, and how much they love each other and are excited for S2. I'm glad they are reunited, both for them and for us, but I believe everything worked out in the end because Melissa didn't give up on getting what she wanted. I believe she had lots of inputs in S2 and is satisfied and happy with the final result.

So, that's how I believe things have gone these last two years. Again, feel free to agree or disagree with my interpretation of facts. None of us will ever know exactly what happened, but each of us can decide what to believe based on our own judgment of the facts. That's what I do and will continue to do.

In the end, for me, the important thing is that Melissa and Norman are happy and that Carol and Daryl get their hard-earned happy ending. It's everything I ever wanted and I'm going to enjoy it. I hope you enjoy it too.

That's it. Caryl on!

#caryl #caryl positivity #caryl fandom #fandom life

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captainkirkk · 10 months

Text

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

The Magnus Archives/ What We Do In the Shadows (Crossover)

gaslight gatekeep girlboss by thepolysyndetonaddictsupportgroup

"Look, believe it or not, I had no intention of killing the Vampiric Council when I came here,” declares Nadja, sitting alone on the couch. “But Guillermo and I arrived at the first council meeting and did the whole, you know, the whole thing, the first day thing. Introductions and all that, yes hello wonderful to meet you, yes this is my bodyguard, yes he has slaughtered a tremendous number of our kind”--she flaps her hand absently--“normal first day things, you know? It was fine.” She pauses. “It got really fucking weird on the second day."

Or: Nadja and Guillermo seize control of vampiric politics, puppeteer world powers, and have the hottest of hot girl summers.

Unfortunately, they also really miss the stupid assholes they're in love with. With no way left to find them, they have no choice but to consult an Archivist.

DC/Danny Phantom Crossover

Teenage Hero Burnout #56: Interview With A Ghost. by STOVE

Red Robin, (aka Tim Drake) decides to host a YouTube series called "Teenage Hero Burnout'' after he makes a video by the same name talking about his own experiences. He interviews current and past heroes who started their careers as teens and discuss how it shaped their outlook on heroing & life in general.

(This fic is a one-shot. Teenage Hero Burnout is a hypothetical series that I will not be writing, but others are welcome to write their own episodes.)

All For the Game

One More Time (With Feeling) by elesary

Andrew Minyard went to sleep next to Neil Josten in their bed in Denver six years after graduation. He woke up on plane to Tucson between Wymack and Kevin, on their way to recruit Neil Josten, striker sub.

boyfriend privileges by mostly_maudlin

Andrew knows he treats Neil different. So why is it so bothersome that everyone else seems to know it, too?

Five times Neil gets boyfriend privileges, and one time it doesn't piss Andrew off.

SVSSS

The Peace Between Divine Pec- ah-hm sorry - uh…Peaks by AceOfDivineChlorophyll

Well, being kidnapped and tied up had to be the worst part of Shen Qingqiu's day right? Surely it couldn't get worse even if he was being presented to some new and upcoming demonic warlord as tribute after all it would all be mote when Luo Binghe escaped the Endless Abyss right? Well... unless the demonic warlord in question WAS Luo Binghe.

Thankfully... it might not end up going at all how he, or the demons, thought it was going to.

invasive blindfold removal surgery by postcardorigami

Part 1 of side effects may include indefinite photosensitivity

Oh, he thought absently, dizzily. Oh. I love him. I really, really love him.

That wasn’t a new thought—Shen Qingqiu had always known that he loved Luo Binghe. Thinking otherwise wasn’t a concept that had occurred to him. He’d loved him as a fictional character, as a sticky and eager-to-please disciple, as a troubled young man. He loved Luo Binghe the same way he loved the world around him: easily, wordlessly, endlessly, and in full acceptance of all faults and flaws.

But this- this felt like-

I think, Shen Qingqiu thought, for the first time in this life or the one he’d left, I think I’m in love with him.

And- and then-

I want to tell him where I come from.

or Shen Qingqiu, in order: hits the ground, pulls himself back up, and comes out. About several things.

Dreaming of Gardens in the Desert Sand by TGP

Huan Hua Palace master Luo Binghe never thought there'd be any reason to worry about the master that threw him away all those years ago. Surely, he was safe and cared for by the martial siblings he'd so thoroughly enamored.

Luo Binghe was wrong.

(Or, the one where the Jinlan City event doesn't happen and Luo Binghe's plan to slowly show he can be a righteous cultivator actually goes as he expected, with consequences he did not)

starry-eyed by shoutowo

"Shi-Shizun,” Luo Binghe says, going cross-eyed in an effort to see what Shen Qingqiu just placed on his forehead. “What is this?”

“A star,” Shen Qingqiu explains, while not explaining at all.

or, Shen Qingqiu has a sticker sheet.

Clone Wars

(you were) meant to save them by cjwritesfanficnow

The building was only five stories. With the gravity on Melida/Daan, it should’ve been over in seconds... but he—

just—

kept—

falling—

And then there was nothing around him, but he was still falling, down down down, infinitely, through space, stretched thin, twisted and pulled and the Force curled so tightly around him that he couldn’t tell where he ended and it began, and then—

And then he was falling straight out of a clear sky and down down down—

Onto another battlefield.

In which Obi-Wan is abruptly transported from the civil war on Melida/Daan to the Clone Wars.

(Alternately, in which I noticed how few clones there are in all my other fics, and this wouldn't leave me alone.)

Tactical Engagements by elwenyere

Even before he managed to open his eyes, Obi-Wan felt the tug against the base of his neck, the snarled thread of energy that only ever meant one thing: something had gone very, very wrong.

-----

Or, Cody, Obi-Wan, and the 212th are sent to Ringo Vinda with Anakin and the 501st, and it changes the field of engagement.

#i cannot believe it's december TOMORROW #that feels... incorrect #what do you mean it's going to be 2024 soon #what's a made up year #my posts #fic recs #weekly fic round up #sw recs #svsss recs #dc recs #dp recs #wwdits recs #tma recs #misc recs #aftg recs #i read for too many fandoms smh

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rayshippouuchiha · 2 months

Note

Why??? Why do authors do this? Help me understand? I don't get it??? Why not just post them at the beginning in the notes????

(Copied from a fic I'm reading)

Notes:

So I want to start by saying that this chapter is dark. I don't think I was too incredibly descriptive but I wanted to let you all know now. So those of you who can't read violence or dark theme I implore you to look at the TWs or skip this chapter completely.

As always TWs at the end note, stay safe everyone

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Every explanation I've ever heard about "TW in the End Notes" has always come back to some form of "want to avoid spoilers" which mmm

But I'm also the type who tags my fics but then generally doesn't bother to leave detailed warnings on individual chapters cause I figure that since I tagged it my part has already been handled.

So yeah babe I don't get it either

#RayRambles

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bloopitynoot · 8 days

Text

9 Wangxian Coffee Shop Au's

I am back at it with another tried and true rec list! This one is for @aplaceofnonsense and features various ratings, lengths, and plots that fall under the coffee shop au vibe.

I have read and loved all of these fics so they have been pre vetted!

If you would like a personalized wangxian rec list- DM me! I love putting these lists together :)

The request:

wangxian

coffee/tea shop aus!

that's literally it

Here we go!

1 for you, andante (35600 words) by xuanxuanwo

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Music, Musicians, Pianist Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Guitarist Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Kid Fic, Coffee Shops, Bookstores, Existential Crisis, Unrelated Meng Yao | Jin Guangyao & Qin Su, Friendship, Romance, Light Angst, Happy Ending Summary: “Looks like he’s taken a liking to you,” Wei Ying says with a huff. Lan Wangji’s world shifts another ninety degrees when he’s pinned with the full force of Wei Ying’s attention. The guitarist perches on the other half of A-Yuan’s seat and slides an arm around the boy, smoothing back his hair before tweaking his nose. A-Yuan twitches, and Lan Wangji practically burns where Wei Ying had grazed against his shoulder. Wei Ying leans over and sets his chin lightly against A-Yuan’s head. There’s a gleam to his eye, silver coins that put all other metals in the world to shame. The boy sniffs again, and slowly, under the hollow of the guitarist’s body, he relaxes. “And who,” Wei Ying continues, “has bewitched my little radish?” -- On a rainy Thursday evening, after his final concert of the season, pianist Lan Wangji ducks into a bookshop, befriends a toddler, falls in love with a guitarist, and, ultimately, rediscovers his passion for music.

Notes: This fic absolutely gives fall energy. The vibes are rainy day nights, casual strolls, smoky jazz bar, and steaming hot drinks. I love this au so so much it really is a soul balm. It does ft a tiny tiny bit of angst, but the ending is solid. It's like the hot chocolate of fics.

2 Pan - we're queer here! (35279 words) by IBurbick

Chapters: 20/20 Rating: Explicit Relationships: Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Huan | Lan Xichen/Nie Mingjue Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Modern AU, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone lives, Sweeter than caramel sauce on your venti frappuccino, Everyone Is Gay, Because it's a queer café, cooking magic, autistic characters, Trans Character, Don't worry there will be drama, Homophobia, sorry about that, We serve 'het' as well, Lan-food is non-canonically not-bland but always-vegan, non-binary characters, Asexual Characters, pansexual characters, This is starting to sound like a round-up, Food Porn, Eventual Smut, Mental Breakdown, Dissociative Episode, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Panic Attacks, Slow Burn, Music Theory, Verbal Fight, Fist Fight, supportive friends, Bullying, Madam Yu's A+ Parenting, Adoptions, Wei Ying is a canonically brilliant dumbass, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, Pining, Mutual Pining, Mingjue is the best boyfriend Series: Part 1 of Pan - We're queer here! Summary: Lan Xichen owns a sweet little café named Pan where he tries to create his own little safe space where people are inclusive and can enjoy great food and drinks. When his chef Su Minshan suddenly quits he is in desperate need for a new 'culinary artist'. Enter Wei Wuxian who is a literal pastry wizard (no magic, just baking). Stick-up-ass Lan Wangji runs the business side of Pan and has some trouble getting used to the whirlwind that is Wei Wuxian, but of course he cannot but fall head-over-heels for him. !Possible trigger warnings:! - (mentions of) homophobia / bullying - chapters nine and ten feature a panic attack / dissociative episode - due to chapter seventeen, I had to turn the rating from General Audiences to Explicit. There will be smut, y'all. - characters will be getting in a fight, around chapter nineteen. Which is nothing compared to the fights in MDZS/The Untamed, but still.

Notes: I adore the pan coffee shop verse. each fic in the series brings a wholesome joy I did not know I needed. This coffee shop au screams rom com but also found family in community. I love the portrayal of xichen in this fic and I love how desperately lan zhan does not want to fall for wei ying. It's pure magic at pans!

3 Let Me Lose My Shadow (55696 words) by Harleydoll

Chapters: 9/9 Rating: Mature Additional Tags: Soft Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji/Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Get a Happy Ending, POV Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, POV Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji Has Feelings, Fluff, Romantic Fluff, Dating, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Anxiety Attacks, Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji Loves Rabbits, Breaking of Gusu Lan Sect Rules (Modao Zushi), Gusu Lan Sect Rules (Modao Zushi), technically its just Lan Qiren's rules, Mentioned Lan Qiren, Sleeping Together, First Kiss, No beta we die like wwx, First Time, Hand Jobs, Kissing, Intimacy, Sexual Content Summary: Lan Wangji has always been good. He is a good nephew, a good brother, a good student. He excels in all of his classes, he obeys the etiquette of his household, and he does not speak out of turn. Good, Lan Wangji has come to realize, is just another word for boring. Or, Wei Wuxian just wants to do cute fall shit with Lan Zhan <3

Notes: This fic is less coffee shop being owned by one of the protagonists and more so coffee shop meet cute. ofc wei ying cannot leave the hot quiet guy with the fancy tea and gel pens alone in the cafe. What starts off rocky soon evolves into the cutest little slow burn. This truly is a fall coffee shop fic; so much pumpkin spice and cozy energy.

4 Made With Love (10900 words) by arekushia

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: General Audiences Additional Tags: Romance, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bakery, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Pining, baker Lan Wangji, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Friends to Lovers, cheese to the extreme, i need to schedule a dentist appointment after writing something this sweet Summary: Wei Wuxian finds a new home within an unexpected place, and discovers that forever is never too far out of his reach.

Notes: The summary is short and the fic only around 10k but I swear it is so cute. It starts with a new cafe that opens without having coffee and turns into the cutest little romance. Wei ying just keeps going back and falling more in love with the cafe owner and baker. Lan zhan just can't stop giving his new customer custom orders and free treats. They are absolutely adorable- this is pure fluff.

5 The tea to my heart (83773 words) by blackmorphos

Chapters: 21/21 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Fluff, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, Lan Zhan makes a friend, A Yuan gets a much bigger part than planned, A Yuan is very cute, Wei Ying is cute too, angst but it in the past, a drunk scene, Lots of Tea, some steam buns, Falling In Love Series: Part 1 of The tea to your heart Summary: A tray being placed onto the table in front of him startled Wei Ying’s attention away from his phone. He looked up with a smile before seeing what the man had brought him. “You will have tea,” the man said in a low deep voice that brooked no argument. By the time that had filtered into his brain the guy had already walked away and disappeared out the back. Wei Ying looked down. No coffee, but there was a blue teapot with a small matching cup and a plate with a steam bun on it. Wei Ying blinked stupidly at it for a few moments before deciding it wasn’t worth arguing with the scarily intense man over it, and reached for the bun. It looked so inviting, and it was still warm. Biting into it Wei Ying then realised just how hungry he was, and within seconds the bun had been devoured. It was the best thing he had ever tasted. A sleep deprived Wei Ying stumbles into a tea shop, meets an impossibly beautiful man, and is served a cup of tea that changes his life in more ways than he could have possibly expected. A modern day meet cute with heaps of Wangxian fluff, mutual pining, and A-Yuan adorableness galore!

NOTES: I love this fic so much because Lan Zhan is aggressively taking care of Wei Ying; the exhausted hot stranger who walked into his not even open yet tea shop. Wei Ying WILL drink the tea and WILL eat the snacks. Eventually Wei ying WILL come over to his house to have his laundry done and a place to relax and he WILL have the things he needs for his "son". It is absolutely so cute. Wei Ying never stood a chance XD. Also the speed in which lan zhan wants them to get together breaks the sound barrier.

6 Three Hundred and Fifty-Five Milliliters (3615 words) by magicites

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: General Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Getting Together, Fluff, the trials and tribulations of your barista having a crush on you Summary: “Would you like the usual?” Lan Zhan asks. “Yes please! Mocha java chip frappe with just a little extra whipped cream,” says Wei Ying. He rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, and sets both of his hands on the counter. He peers at Lan Zhan until he finally makes eye contact. “Tall. I mean it, Lan Zhan. Just. A. Tall.” - Wei Ying can't finish a venti frappe. Lan Zhan can't stop upsizing his drinks on the house.

Notes: A very short but cute fic- lan zhan is a simp and cannot help but continuously 'accidentally' upsizing all of wei yings orders. They are too cute in this. A small absolutely fluffy fic.

7 Stilettos and Soulmates (4536 words) by Regency_Bunny

Chapters: 1/1 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, One Shot, Meet-Cute, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Coffee Shops, Soulmates, Stiletto Heels, Fluff Summary: Lan Zhan’s blind date doesn't go the way he expected.

Notes: This is barely a coffee shop au- and really only a coffee shop au because they go to a coffee shop shortly BUT it is an excellent Wei ying rescues lan zhan from a bad situation fic. A very short fic but still cute. CW jin Zixun is terrible and touches lan zhan without consent - does not go very far. But heads up if that is something that is a hard no for you.

8 Milk, two sugars and some cinnamon (14,888 words) by GusuLanSectRules (JuweWright)

Chapters: 12/12 Rating: Teen And up Audiences Additional Tags: Background Relationships, 3zun | Venerated Triad Feels, Barista Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian, POV Lan Zhan | Lan Wangji, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, CW minor character deaths (in the past and canon compliant), CW mention of cancer, Light Angst Summary: Lán Wàngjī doesn't like coffee shops much. Mainly because no barista ever seems to want to process his custom order...

NOTES: I love a good barista WY fic and this is it. Lan Zhan falls for the barista's competency, navigates a new relationship, and really fucking wishes he didn't have to give his brother relationship advice. a solid fic with some light past angst.

9 Where You Fell (303,010 words) by Sweet_William

Chapters: 144/144 Rating: Explicit Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Mutual Pining, Alternate Universe - Homeless, Getting Together, Slow Burn, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, accidental sugar daddy lan zhan, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Esteem Issues, No beta we die like wei wuxian, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Autistic Character, Wei Ying | Wei Wuxian Has ADHD, Panic Attacks, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex Work, Implied/Referenced Substance Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending Summary: Years ago, Lan Wangji was a Senior in high school, readying himself for graduation and the coming years studying at the Gusu Lan Institute of Music. Everything in his life made sense, from his role in his family, to a future as a classical musician. The only thing that didn’t fit was the sudden epiphanies he had about himself brought on by his bothersome and flirtatious classmate, Wei Wuxian. When the growing attraction and friendship was cut short by the other boy’s disappearance, he mourned what could have been, but ultimately had to move on. What he didn’t know was that fate would bring them back together again one day, or the reality of how far apart two lives can diverge, how some can find peace and prosperity, while others can fall farther than he ever imagined.

NOTES: I am not going to lie this fic is rough- as in emotionally intense and filled with characters going through tough things. BUT I swear there is a happy ending. It does not completely feature coffee shops but so much of the plot is dependent on a coffee shop that I think it still counts. This is so much angst my friends, but also a HUGE fic! Read with caution but I do promise the ending is solid and happy.

#wangxian rec list #wangxian coffee shop aus #coffee shop au #bloopitynoots wangxian recs #wangxian #wei ying #lan zhan #lan wangji #wei wuxian

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