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slytherinslut0 · 3 days ago

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SLYTHERINSLUT0’S RIDDLEMAS

dec 31st. tom riddle — breeding kink, raw sex.

RIDDLEMAS MASTERLIST. I 2024

summary: tom has a dream about fucking you raw, and decides it’s time he ditches the self-restraint.

warnings: 18+, SMUT MDNI, needy tom riddle, fingering, slight begging, desperate sex, PIV, creampie, incoherent babbling/dirty talk, breeding kink, literally the most feralized and needy and pathetic tom i have ever written .

You wake up to the feeling of Tom at your back, sometime within the early hours of the morning.

Not an unusual occurrence, per say, but you're vaguely aware of the fact that the desperate way he's gripping your waist and pressing against you isn't just par for the course—something's off—and you don't get to wonder or question what exactly it is because within a second he's pressing his lips to your neck, murmuring your name, and stealing your cognitive function before you even get the chance to wake.

"What—" you manage to get out, just as his hand slides up the front of your shirt and his lips continue mouthing against your neck.

"Hm?" He murmurs, as if he's doing nothing unusual, as if you aren't completely aware he's pressed up against you like an animal in heat.

"Are you," you're struggling to get the words out as his lips graze the spot on the nape of your neck that makes your breath catch. "Okay?"

He stills for a moment at that, before he makes an amused sound in the back of his throat, as if the question is almost funny somehow. "Should I not be?"

"I just...mmf—" a whole body shudder goes through you as his hand reaches the underside of your breasts; palming, squeezing. "You seem—different."

"Different," he echos against your neck with a smile. "In what way?"

"Uh, needier—oh," his hand slips from your chest to the front of your pyjama pants, grinding his erection against your ass. "What's—gotten into you—"

"You, of course," he husks, and the fact that he can be cocky while he's practically pinning you to his chest is the perfect bloody summary of him. "Who else?"

"Well—I mean—" the words leave your lips in a hissing moan as his hand, that beautiful, steady hand—slips under your waistband and wastes no time in finding your clit, long fingers swirling tight little circles against it. "What—ohhh—"

"You do know that you're asking way too many questions," he whispers, teeth nipping at your ear lobe as he runs his index and middle fingers down your slit. "I'd rather you be moaning my name as opposed to doing a million cross-examinations on my behaviour."

Well, that certainly shuts you up, at least on the verbal side of things—because the gasp that leaves your lips is not entirely something you can control, considering the fact that you're suddenly very aware of just how badly he seems to need you right now.

"I think that was progress," he croons between open-mouthed kisses, absentmindedly making you shiver and jerk as his fingers resume rubbing and massaging your clit. "Good girl."

You whimper faintly at that, and you wish you could hate the way you react to the praise on principle only—but that's kind of hard to do when it's him, and he's doing the praising in the first place. So instead, you just try to keep any kind of higher brain function intact, regardless of it being a losing battle at this point.

"I just need you," he practically groans, and it's the strangest thing to hear him say when he's usually just fine being all smug and self-composed. "I need to feel you, now."

It's the closest thing to him pleading that you think you've ever heard, and the guttural moan you let out as he slips one of those long slender fingers inside your embarrassingly slick cunt is the closest thing to feral as you're sure you've ever been.

"Need," you whimper as your hips jerk, and it takes an embarrassing amount of time to realize that it's a sound you've made and not some kind of vocal fry of his. "Need me, why?"

He doesn't answer right away, not in words—just sucks your earlobe into his mouth in a way that makes you want to scream. "You're not usually this difficult."

"M'tired." The argument is weak, at best, but you're not exactly in any kind of frame of mind to try and make sense of the situation. "And you're—intense—"

"Yes," he murmurs, that smug tone still needling your eternal irritation. "And if you must know, it really is because of you. I had a dream about you." He punctuates the sentence by slipping a second finger into your slick heat, and you barely manage to keep a whimpering moan inside that you just know he would love to hear. "Fuck. It was a beautiful dream."

He bites at your ear again, and it occurs to you that the desperate edge to his voice might have something to do with just how good the dream of you felt—or how badly he'd clearly wanted it to be real.

You suddenly need to hear every goddamn detail.

"Felt you for once, without protection," he tells you, as if reading your mind, and you whimper at what you're pretty sure is a pretty profound confession. "Even better than I thought you'd feel—fuck—"

"You're not the only one who's thought about that," you manage to get out, and you're not even being coy about it—at this point you're simply trying to deal with the realization that Tom Riddle having a wet dream about you is apparently enough to turn you into a pathetic, drooling mess. "But you are the one who's always been insistent on using condoms."

Oh, the low growl he lets out at that is a dangerous sound—it's low and guttural and it makes you realize that there's a very real chance this is going to go somewhere you might have trouble walking away from.

"Yes, well," he pauses, and you can practically feel the fire in his eyes. "I'm just realizing I might have been a bit of a fool."

"You, admitting you're a fool?" You somehow give a half-assed scoff at the idea as you try to hold onto your sanity. "I think hell just froze over."

He laughs at that—actually laughs, and it does strange things to your insides to have it directed at you.

"Maybe I'm just in a very specific sort of mood."

"Oh?" You manage to raise an eyebrow. "And what kind of mood is that?"

"The kind of mood," he says, in an almost growl that you're trying to interpret through the haze of trying not to moan, "where I throw all reason out the window. The kind of mood where I forget all self-restraint."

"That's a dangerous thing, coming from you," you choke out, because that is true, but you're only half-thinking through your words before you say them, half your brain stolen by the curling of his fingers inside you, massaging your slick walls. "You don't usually—"

"Never," he cuts you off, like he's fully aware of just how different this is and trying not to admit it. "Until you."

Well, you don't know what to say to that—because you know him, and you know he doesn't usually lose himself in things like this, not like he's apparently doing now.

"Oh?" You gasp, as his thumb sweeps over your clit, making your eyes roll. "So I've made you reckless."

His answer comes in the form of a low, grunting sound of agreement, his grip on your body shifting a bit as he pulls you back tighter to his chest, rutting his erection against your ass.

"You've done more than that," he murmurs with a sigh right in your ear as his slick fingers slip out to draw wet little circles against your clit. "Fuck it. I need to feel you—please, let me fuck you right. No protection."

Oh sweet Mother of Merlin.

There were a lot of words in that sentence that you were fucking sure, just a minute ago, were entirely out of the question for him. Not a soul on god’s green earth could have prepared you for the feeling that utterance just invoked—and you can't help but let out a helpless, wanton groan in response—his fingers driving you directly to the very edge of climax—

"I need a word out of you," he grits, and you realize then that you're both at the mercy of something he can only half control as he ruts against you again, his fingers slowing as if he's edging you— "please."

You wish you could give him something teasing, snarky, maybe even witty. Something to needle him for just how beside himself he is, something to call him out for the feralized broken thing he's seemingly been reduced to.

But you can't, because your climax is right there, and he's moving his fingers too slow, denying you of it on purpose—

"Yes," you whimper, the word like an answer to a prayer you hadn't even known you were praying for, and you realize somewhere behind your consciousness that you're desperate and aching inside for so many reasons, all of them because of him. "Please, fuck. Please, do it—I need—to cum—"

And at those words—that plea—the need in them, there's no stopping the sound that tears itself out of his throat, and before you can even think he's jerking your pyjama pants off your thighs—

"Wanna feel it—" he hisses as he frees himself next, tugging you against him and lifting your thigh toward your head. "Need to feel you cum when I'm inside you."

Oh, and at this point you're begging that you'll survive this.

You're at his mercy, as you've been before, but in a completely different way—one that seems to be fueled by whatever animalistic thing is driving him today, and you're left with no defense besides the knowledge that he's doing this because if he didn't, he may just lose his goddamn mind.

And for as much trouble you generally get into by enjoying him being cocky and in control of the narrative, this—this is something you've never once experienced. Tom on the edge of falling completely apart in his need for you, desperation and need taking a front seat to his usual restraint and control.

He's between your thighs before you can blink, and then he's pushing in. "Oh, fuck."

It's a sensation that's completely different when there's no barrier between you, and you're pretty sure that if it wasn't for the fact that the animal in his chest has risen to the surface, taking you by the throat, you would have gasped out in a moan so loud it woke the entire fucking country—but somehow, someway, you manage to tame it.

His face buries in the crook of your shoulder, and it's a sound of guttural relief as his breath goes shaky and unsteady right in your ear.

"Feels so good," he whispers as he sinks in—as his thick, throbbing dick disappears into your greedy cunt. "Too good."

'Too good' feels like the exact wrong thing to say right now, at least in your mind, because you're pretty sure you'll take the fact that this feels so good you're scared it might kill you to your grave.

"Oh my god." You manage to get out the words through the haze, and you're barely even sure what you're saying, your head thrown back against his shoulder, his arm coming up to wrap around your throat. "Oh my god, Tom."

He responds with a shaky curse of your name, and you’re absolutely certain somewhere in you is exploding, something in your gut is coiled so tight it's like holding in the biggest possible secret of the world that you're desperate to scream to someone—

"So wet. So tight. I'm never starving myself of this again." It's a confession that steals your breath, and you struggle to keep breathing, struggling with trying to keep your world from spinning away as he starts to make shallow, languid thrusts into you, free hand slipping down to your clit. "Let me feel it. Let me feel it all."

You keen. "Fuck! Please."

It's the only word you can manage in a half-hysterical moan, your hand grabbing onto the one he's wrapped around your throat as if he's saving you from certain destruction, as if he's the only lifeline you'll ever find—and maybe, you think that's okay, because you're so used by him in so many ways that right now you don't even want another.

"T-tom—" his fingers swirl your clit in perfect time with his thrusts and you're clenching so tight your entire body is almost stiff. "Tommmm—I'm fucking—"

His teeth bite down on your shoulder with such ferocity you'd think he wanted it to bleed, and you're not even sure it's intentional as his body tenses against yours, tugging you back like he's trying to crush you into his chest.

"Yes. Yes," he hisses again, and it's broken. "Please give it to me."

'Please give it to me' are the best five words you've ever heard from his mouth, you think with the quarter of your brain that’s still functioning—and it's like you've been waiting for permission without realizing it, because you feel fireworks going off behind your eyes a moment later.

"Oh fuckk! Yes, yes, oh!"

You cry out, so loud you'd be nervous about someone hearing you if the pleasure wracking your body wasn't so powerful you're pretty sure you're going to feel it all the way into next week—and there's a sound like something coming undone against your skin as his teeth dig deeper into your shoulder, a sound that's like a low, guttural moan of your name before he shutters something in half-broken words you're not even sure he's meant to.

"Oh yes—god, you're tight—fuck—"

You can't answer him, but it doesn't matter, because a moment later it's all painfully forgotten with the way he lets out another moan against your shoulder—

"That’s it, sweetheart. That’s it. Just like that."

It's the pet name that does something to your insides, twisting them up in a way you can't quite parse through the haze, but it's enough in the moment to make tears prick unbidden at the corner of your eyes as he jerks against you, his breaths coming in shaky, heavy pants against your skin as his own climax draw closer, and there's no way this wasn't something you both needed that neither knew how to ask for.

"Tom," you manage to whimper, and it sounds like a prayer of your own creation. "Tom—"

It's like he needed to hear you moan his name like that in a way that's primal—because in that moment his hand moves from your neck to your hair, and he clenches his fist into it, pulling, and it's enough to make a shattered moan force its way out of your chest and up to your throat.

"M'close. Mmm. So fucking close," he hisses against your skin. "M'gonna—fill this tight cunt."

And god, it should be alarming, because you've always been careful, careful, careful—because you've always known the risks, the consequences, but right now you're having a hard time remembering why you ever thought it was a terrible, terrible idea to let him do this.

"You're—Tom—you—"

"I know,” he groans, and it's like a plea, as if you're saying something out loud that he doesn't want to admit he knows— "just take it. Let me—fucking breed you."

There's a moment where your chest seems to constrict violently at that, where you're almost sure you must have a heart condition because it feels like skipping a beat is the under-explanation of the century, but it's gone as quickly as it came, and god if it wasn't as profoundly hot as you know it shouldn't be.

“Jesus—Tom—“ there're a lot of things you know you should be saying, things you'd planned to say—or not do, as the case may be—but the only thing that leaves your lips at this moment is, “please."

And he doesn't know if it's a plea or a prayer, but either way it’s all the same because there’s no stopping the sound that leaves his lips as your answer sinks into his brain, as the meaning sinks into his bones: the low, guttural, primal sound of a man losing pieces of himself in something that he doesn't care to stop.

"Oh—" he chokes out. "Oh god—"

It's like it's taking him like he wants it to, stealing him up in a way that both makes him feel both more whole than he's ever been and like he's lost more of himself than he can possibly cope with at every other moment all at once, and you're pretty damn sure you'll be the only thing that survives it, in the end—

And then, he explodes. "Fuck—"

It's a choked-off sound that tears violently into the room without his permission, one that claws its way out of his chest and up his throat in a way that feels simultaneously like falling into and being pushed off of a cliff straight into oblivion—

"Mmm yes. Yes. Take it—" he's twitching inside you, hips trembling as he pumps his release deep within your walls. "Fuck. Fuck yes."

There's a million and one responses to everything he's done and said in the last few minutes that dance on the tip of your tongue, but you're not entirely sure you have the mental capacity to do more than manage a shaky whimper at this point, and all you're even remotely sure you can do is respond to his own moans and gasps with ones of your own.

"Tom," you whimper as he finally slows. As you both work to catch your breath. "I wish you had dreams like that more often."

He just laughs, a breathless, unsteady thing.

"That's my fucking girl." He mutters. "All mine."

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stormberry-12 · 22 hours ago

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sunshine and sarcasm // P1: oh god, it talks? ~ lando norris x reader

pairing: lando norris x fem!introvert!piastri!reader

warnings: slight language, creepy guy.

notes: Let me know if I should make another part, wasn't really sure if I wanted it to end here. Also, ignore that the timeline doesn't line up... xxx

You walked through the bustling paddock in search of the bright orange garage-

Sorry, papaya.

Your older brother, Oscar, had his face and race number plastered above the overhead door. It was the Australian Grand Prix and your entire family had been invited to experience it in person. You actually didn't even live in Australia anymore. You had been working out of the country for many years, perfecting your craft and experiencing great opportunities outside your hometown. So this early pop-up to free practice was surely a surprise for Oscar.

"Y/n/n?"

"Osco!!" he crushed you in a hug.

"What are you doing here? I thought you had work, mum wasn't even sure you'd make it for the race Sunday-"

"I wanted to surprise you," you grinned back at him, "If I can only make it for one race a year I want to experience the whole shebang! Even the practice sessions,"

"Oh mate, I'm so excited!" Oscar exclaimed, with the most enthusiasm his personality offered. To some, his tone may have sounded sarcastic but you knew, by the glint in his eyes, that he was genuinely happy you were here. "Shit- I have media, but then I could totally show you around, the second round of free practice doesn't start for another few hours,"

"Sounds good!" you smiled, Oscar's gaze trailed over to his teammate standing on the other side of the garage. You knew who Lando Norris was, from interviews with Osc, but you had never actually met him.

"I can introduce you to Lando too, he's great,"

"I'm good," you mumbled and your brother chuckled. There were definitely similarities, personality-wise, between you and your brother. You didn't need to meet Lando and you didn't want to meet him. From certain clips online you were sure his loud persona would be way too much for you-

"OSCAH!" The Brit yelled making both of your heads turn back to him. Proving your previous thought. "GET OVAH HERE YOU'RE SLOW!"

"Oh god, it talks?" you hissed.

"He is a person, and yes he talks." Oscar scolded, "He's very nice, don't be rude."

He gently elbowed you in the side, before walking towards the other racing driver and a set of cameras. You went and sat upstairs at some tables, putting your headphones in and waiting for your brother.

Once you were out of earshot, Lando turned to his teammate, "Who's the lady?"

"Oh, my sister. Well one of them, I have three." Oscar replied.

"Huh..." Lando hummed, hesitating, "Think you could introduce me?"

"Mateee," Oscar grumbled, already knowing where this was going. It wasn't the first time he had to tell one of his friends that you weren't interested.

"Pleaseee Osc?" Lando pleaded, Oscar side-eyed him hard.

"You know, I offered to introduce her first and she said 'I'm good.'"

"Ouch,"

"I'm sure it's nothing personal, she's just a bit introverted and grumpy-"

"Runs in the family I see..."

"-and then you proceeded to yell very Britishly across the entire room," Oscar finished, ignoring his teammate's jab.

"What do you mean 'Britishly'?" Lando chuckled.

"What do you mean 'runs in the family'?"

"Touche,"

"Oh my god," a loud giggle interrupted your peace, you lifted your head to see the two Mclaren boys on the floor playing Twister. You hadn't meant to catch them in the filming process but you couldn't deny it was quite entertaining.

You removed an earbud to hear Lando mumble, "What a sight that is..."

You chuckled to yourself, Osc was squatted with his butt right in Lando's face, both giggling uncontrollably.

"I'm in... such a bad place right now." Oscar sighed.

"I'm like in the splits," they giggled once more.

"Left foot yellow," one of the Mclaren media team instructed, after spinning the wheel for them. You stood up and walked over to the crew, exchanging smiles and waves with some of them.

"Oscahhh,"

"We can't be on the same sticker can we?" Oscar shook with laughter.

They mumbled something incoherent, Lando's voice cracked slightly, "Ahhhh, my voice is gone. Oscah call it quits. YOUR LEFT FOOT IS NOT GOING BETWEEN MY LEGS!"

Everyone laughed, both drivers looked up noticing your presence.

"Y/n/n help me!" Oscar pleaded.

"Y/n/n tell your brother he's lost!" Lando countered, smirking over at his teammate. You houghed, wondering who this guy thought he was, using Oscar's nickname for you. To be fair though you hadn't properly introduced yourself.

"Sorry Osco," you smiled at him, "It's not looking too good for you..."

Oscar tried to maneuver his body once more, before standing up and accepting defeat, "That's it, I'm done-"

"Yeh, he's called it. I win!" Lando cheered.

They cut the cameras and you waved at your brother, "Alright, I'm going to find lunch Osc, I'll find you later,"

The bustling paddock was a lot to take in, you had asked around the garage to see if anyone knew of a nice outdoor spot to eat. But after noticing that the few picnic benches close by were all occupied, you sighed in defeat. Holding your food bag close to your chest, you retreated to the McLaren garage.

However, a hard hit to your back made you stumble and drop your food, content spilling all over the ground.

"Whoops, sorry gorgeous," A man snarled, chuckling. His eyes were narrowed at you as a sickly grin spread across his face. "Hey, what's a pretty lady like you doin' all alone around here,"

"Just getting lunch," you replied curtly, avoiding eye contact. "And I'm not alone-"

"Well, that hasn't gone too great so far has it," He put an arm around your shoulders and you froze. "My apologies, come with me let me buy you something to eat,"

"No. Thank you. I'm headed to—uhm—find my boyfriend anyway, " you lied, scrambling out of his grasp and towards the garage.

"Oh come on gorgeous," his large strides met yours as you walked away.

"Please leave me alone, I'm not interested."

He grabbed your wrist pulling you to face him, hot breath hitting your face. You shook slightly, preparing to kick him with all your might, and start screaming-

"Y/N/N!" a voice yelled.

British.

The accent gave away who it was, but honestly, at this moment you didn't care, as Lando Norris' arms wrapped firmly around you from behind. You pulled your arm out of the other man's grip and he took a step back.

"Do we got a problem here mate?" Lando spoke, his sharp tone catching you by surprise. You clung to the top of one of his arms that draped around your shoulders and the man eyed the both of you in annoyance.

"No. Just trying to help the lady out," he houghed, you felt Lando's chest heave against your back.

"Well, I believe as she probably told you before, she's quite all right on her own," Lando responded cooly. By this point crowds of people, which often formed when Lando Norris was around, watched and whispered at the scene unfolding in front of them.

"Okay-" The man turned to leave.

"Hey, asshole." Lando spoke again, the anger you felt radiating off his body now leaving his mouth. Wishing you could see his face at that moment, you squeezed his bicep in a silent plea to let it go. Not wanting to cause more of a scene than you already had. "Don't just walk away, apologise to her."

You hesitantly made eye contact with the man across from you. And after spoiling your lunch, pestering you, and invading your space he mumbled one simple half-hearted word.

"Sorry," and walked away.

Lando gently released you and you slowly angled your body to face him. Not making eye contact, you scanned the people around that had clearly watched but were now avoiding your gaze.

"Oh god, I've caused a scene," you whispered.

Lando chuckled, making your face heat, "You're so much like your brother," You met his blue gaze, "It's okay. Are you okay?"

"Oh um- yes thank you for..."

"No worries, that guy was pissing me off," he mumbled, something flashing in his eyes, suddenly shy he added, "Sorry if I uh- crossed the line there-"

"It's alright..." you said softly, "I should get going, thanks again-"

"Wait! Let me walk you?" he offered with a small smile, "We need to get you more lunch right?"

You nodded and started towards the McLaren garage for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Lando followed by your side in silence, glancing over at you multiple times, seeming to ponder a conversation starter.

Hating small talk you quickly offered something else, "Want to see some embarrassing photos of Oscar?"

His face split into a grin, shaking his head excitedly. You pulled out your phone and started scrolling through some of the most horrendous photos that you had taken of your brother over the years. Including baby photos of course, and 'Vines' that you had made in your teenage years that made Lando squeal with laughter.

Your chest fluttered slightly at his warm laugh, so engrossed in your memories that you hadn't even noticed how casually he held your elbow and pulled you to the side. Only a few steps away from the garage and not wanting to end the moment.

"Wait, go back!" he giggled. You had landed on a horribly angled photo of your brother at the ripe age of 13, glaring at you angrily through the camera.

"His hair is so bad!" You wheezed.

"Can I just-" he held out his hand and you offered your phone. He took it and quickly typed in a phone number to send himself quality Oscar photos. "Thank you so much. My life is complete," he joked, handing the phone back to you.

"No problem," you laughed, smiling up at him.

His cheeks turned pink, and he spoke softly, "So are you-"

"LANDO!" he was suddenly called by one of the McLaren mechanics.

"Oh shit," he cursed checking his watch, slowly stepping away from you, "Sorry, I gotta go- shit -um I'll see ya around okay?!"

He gave you a wave, turning before you could answer, and jogging over to his team. You waved back hesitantly, but just like that he was gone. You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and began walking in the other direction, wondering if he had turned back over his shoulder.

Why did you want to look back?

You continued your adventures around the paddock, getting food and the tour that Oscar had promised. You had missed him truly, he was one of your best friends as a kid and still was. It still felt strange adjusting to your lives as adults.

Eventually, it was time for him to head back and get in the car for another practice session. A group of fans surrounded Oscar for autographs, and he shot you a sympathetic look which you waved off with a smile. Standing off to the side, you pulled out your phone in an attempt not to look awkward, surprised by the many texts you had missed.

Oscar looked over your shoulder, catching you by surprise, "Who are you texting?"

You jumped, "No one-"

He gave you a confused face and then smirked at your screen, "Heh, is mum mad?"

Your face snapped back down to your phone, one of the other people to text you was your mother. You noticed her last message was in all caps and quickly opened it, color draining from your face.

Turned out Lando didn't need to tattle on you anyway.

And good god indeed.

#formula 1 #storms library #mctwinks #lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #lando norris x y/n #oscar piastri #f1 fanfic #text au #Nicole piastri our queen

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teaboot · 22 hours ago

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Growing up, how was your relationship with the fundamentals of conscious existence?

My earliest memory of what I would call self-awareness occurred spontaneously in the middle of my fourth birthday party, where I suddenly became alert to my existence as a separate entity surrounded by other conscious beings.

This presented to me as not dissimilar to simply being brushed along the flow of a river- experiencing life as a serious of flashbang moments and instants and sensations, like meditating to music until the individual notes break into sounds that follow no rhythm and are only noise- no past or future, only now- and then suddenly finding yourself holding a paddle in the belly of a boat with no idea what to do next.

I remember running to the body that felt safest, who I did not recognize as anything else, and asking it who all the strangers around us were. The person that I learned was my mother told me they were my aunties and uncles, and I was being silly because I KNEW them, and why was I so shy all of a sudden?

Learning to articulate myself after that instant, I remember, was immensely frustrating. Learning your first language, as I remember it, is wuite a bit like how Ive been told recovering from brain damage feels like.

YOU know what you mean. YOU know what you're saying. But there are holes where you reach for something you know MUST be there and find nothing, and must find a way to communicate using only what you have at hand. Except there are always faces looking at you, talking down to you, asking you to do tricks for them to prove you really are a real human person.

I loved art, and I'm very good at it, but GETTING good at it was the worst. I'm told I started with scribbles at six months or so, before I could walk, and at three and four I remember being immensely frustrated that I could see in my head exactly what I wanted to produce, and I didn't know how to PRODUCE it.

And simple shit, like drawing shapes and circles, developing fine motor skills. You FULLY UNDERSTAND THE ASSIGNMENT, but your hands are soft and wobbly and don't cooperate. Getting your mouth and body to obey your directions is hellish, especially when all the appliances and furniture and installations around you are built for someone easily triple your size.

Chairs are hard to sit in when you're small and cant touch the ground. Your legs dangle and you cant scoot closer to the table, and the backrest is so far back you cant use it for support, and the table comes up past your chest so your chin is amost in your plate and your dumb clumsy hands cant hold a big spoon or fork in a way that feels natural or elegant so you end up smearing shit EVERYWHERE and getting yapped at for having your elbows on the counter.

Reading people was interesting. Most people are condescending and plastic when you're small, and you can tell when they're being saccharine and fake, but you're told the polite thing is to believe what they say and be polite back. I used to try using big sentences on purpose just to het them to leave me alone. "What a pretty girl! Can you say Hello?" was the most common ask I can recall. Id answer with the floweriest thing I could think of, usually, "I'm very well, thank you for asking, how are you?", because people only ask you interesting questions after you do well enough on their tests to prove you're people.

Being small was very tiring, and very frustrating, and becoming aware of myself in my own head probably made everything a lot worse overall.

No regrets, though. From what I can recall, life is far more enjoyable when you're aware of it occurring. Time can't slow down until you know it's there, I think

Being a baby full of instincts felt like living as a live grenade. Being a child was far harder, but more Full. More Human. A LOT more like adulthood than infancy, and I was very determined to remember that.

If any of that makes sense

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mossterunderthebed · 21 hours ago

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oho. ohohoho. now to make it goyuu... i need a knight au

ooh what if they're from different kingdoms. and yuuji is the king's only remaining relative so he is unfortunately the Heir. and was dragged to the palace after his uncle found where his father had taken his grandson away from the palace to live out his days in ignominity because he was once a great general but his son sukuna who was greater even than him instigated a violent takeover and disposed of half the previous nobility

and hes a tyrant but a lot of the commoners love him because to be fair his actual policies arent too bad just bloody as fork and super strict and hes big into conquest which hey makes money and brings their country glory so it works.

enter gojo.

emperor of neighboring empire thats not technically much bigger in terms of land mass but has way more people (this has advantages and disadvantages). and yuuji has risen to the rank of general and is known as the tiger of the west which he thinks is embarrassing. and he hates that that's what the people know about him and what they like about him because he wants to be a good ruler. but he doesnt know how only he doesnt think it should be like sukuna rules

and then gojo who ofc would lead his own armies so he and yuuji end up clashing in an unexpected place. and gojo uses guerilla/ambush tactics they werent expecting bc they thought they had the advantage of numbers and yuuji is captured.

and he expects to be tortured and stuff but this gojo guy is actually... really nice? and insanely smart? and really funny too? and pretty handsome too wow ok. and then they kind of end up becoming friends?? and yuuji confides that he doesnt know how to rule well but he really admires gojo whos so smart and has gathered such good people to him (unlike many people who have critisised him as being honourless because of his tactics but its because he and yuuji both understand the value of a life as opposed to expectations of 'character' which is actually just a load of crap the nobles to make themselves sound/look good)

and yea i dont know things snowball and in the end they have a long-lasting long distance love affair until gojo's heir (yuuta) comes of age. bc surprise surprise gojo never wanted to rule esp not after the betrayal of his closest advisor and best friend in his youth. and finally he goes to live w yuuji who disposed of his own uncle in a very moving morally heart-clenching scene

and they live happily ever after and travel back and forth a lot and every time gojo visits his home he acts outrageously but hes still always just as intimidating as ever and even in his late forties h makes a soldier who spoke out of turn piss himself in a public spar.

and he and yuuji are insufferably chaotic and loving until they die and are buried side by side on the land yuuji rehabilitated (his childhood home w his grandfather that was wrecked by sukuna) and they plant little yellow and blue wildflowers over the graves and years in the future the two crossbreed and spawn a lovely little new breed of flower that symbolizes the powerful kind of love that would wait for years and years. a patient kind of love.

and centuries later records are found of them and the graves are unearthed and little artifacts are found and their letters and etc etc etc and their love story becomes known as one of the greatest of all time and stories and plays and poetry are written about it and their letters are translated and published and are turned into a saying 'i would write you a thousand letters' which basically means 'i would love you with dedication through great obstacles and hardship' or more simply, 'i will love you even when its hard.'

and yeap thats the that.

Bonus: at the very very very end theres a little cutscene of their reincarnations meeting for the first time after accidentally bumping into each other and gojo drops something so yuuji kneels and offers it to him and for a second they both get mad deja vu and just stop and stare at each other like they're the most beaufiful thing the other has seen and for that moment rest of the world doesnt exist

*holds back tears* and then they fall in love and get married and adopt some cats and maybe a kid and live in a cozy apartment and stay together for a whole 'nother lifetime and retire to the Sendai countryside and tend to a garden full of Their Flowers which they find out on the second date are both of their favorites for a reason neither of them can quite describe and ughhhhhhhhhhhh

sorry i got emotional. ok bye.

horniest battle moments:

- taking your ally's weapon out of their scabard to use yourself

- using someone else's shoulder as a rifle stand

- nudging someone's chin up with the tip of your weapon

- freezing with your blades against one another's throats, breathing into each other's mouths

#playing around with making it omegaverse or anthro. u know i love a good anthropomorphic fic... but... the things i cld do with omega!gojo #hmmm. will chew on it for a while #anyway. another bunny for the list...#my originally small fluffle is getting out of hand #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #itadori yuuji #writing #plot bunny #Plotting TM #@mybeautifulwifegojo do you see this? Egg of the Wonder Variety? I hope it makes u smile *cuddles*

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angelfishe · 1 day ago

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"𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄"

<< Genshin men x reader >>

Character : diluc, kaeya, ayato, childe and zhongli

You decided to give your baby a fake knife to scare your spouse

Inspired by this << Instagram >>

>> Diluc

When you push them towards your husband's office who was doing important paper work, he immediately looks up hearing the moving wheels of the baby walker and when he saw them holding a knife immediately rush towards them knocking some papers towards the floor and immediately grab the fake knife from their hands

He realizes it's fake due to the plastic like textured and when he looks down and sees his baby adorable eyes and chubby cheeks they were innocent in this grand scheme, and then he saw you snickering behind a pillar he realized he had fallen into one of your pranks.

Immediately scolds you while holding you guys baby in his arms, saying how you made him worried as well making your baby into one of your grand pranks shame on you, unfortunately he's unable to stay angry with you due to your charm and puppy eyes.

>> Kaeya

Was reading a book in the living room, When he heard the sound of you guys baby babbling as well hearing some stubby foot steps walking towards the living room, he looked towards the entrance and saw them holding a knife.

Immediately went "oh shit" and rushed towards them to take the knife away from the child's hands and immediately realized it was a prank, throwing the fake knife towards you but not too hard to cause any harm.

During the night he comes to have a nice chat with you about not doing that again because he almost freaks out but you also get the last laugh about how worried he was as well cursing in front of the baby.

>> Ayato

Nice try to prank him, he already knows it was a fake knife without a second glance. find it amusing thinking you could prank him using your baby as a way to scared him

Immediately went "well, well what do we have here" when you guys baby crawl into his office, "even tho I find this prank amusinh, but unfortunately I'm more intelligent than you think my love" immediately look at you with a smile.

He would let the baby decide your punishment due to you using them as a pawn in the scheme of the prank. the punishment, you kneel on the floor while your baby cluelessly hits you in the head with their plushy while ayato holding them above your head.

>> Childe

When he saw it was holding a knife, launch himself towards them grabbing the knife in quick move. When he realizes it's fake looks at you with a "are you serious" look -_-.

The prank manages to give him a good scare, you are laughing your ass off when he falls for the prank and he looks at you with the are you done look. Immediately went towards your baby and held them saying "how cruel is your mother towards their loveable and handsome husband who is also your father" expecting his baby will gain some sympathy and comfort him giving him some kisses in the cheek.

He finds it funny as well, it manages to give him a small heart attack but he hopes you wouldn't do it again towards him with your baby future siblings.

>> Zhongli

When he was doing the dishes hear the baby walker wheels rolling towards him look at the source of the sound and find his baby holding a fake knife immediately grab the knife from them.

When he realizes it's fake he was glad and immediately held his baby from the baby walker and Carried them with him to find the culprit of this prank ( you 🫵 )

Eventually he found you and gave you a small lecture about the prank, he's not very annoyed by the prank just shock and caught off guard. But after the lecture he actually finds his reaction kinda funny and laughs with you.

#genshin fanfic #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin diluc #genshin kaeya #genshin childe #genshin zhongli #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #childe x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin fluff

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rhonuscorner · 2 days ago

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What would you do if one night, you're suddenly awoken by a horrible sound and you quickly find yourself face to face with not only a strange vessel that seemingly crash-landed into your backyard, but also two strange extra-terrestial beings, one of which is badly injured?

The beginning premise of my AU, Dark Matter!

Ya'll better look at this because this took me SO MANY HOURS and over 200 layers, minimum. I didn't keep count but it's a lot. Also let's not pretend I know how to draw a spaceship lmao, and I spent way too long drawing grass only for it to be barely visible XD;

Also yes, their blood is a golden color.

I had a really hard time getting Sun's inner glow to look right, Moon is easy but because Sun is yellow it's very difficult to not make it look muddied in a night time scene, but it's almost 2AM here and I didn't want to fiddle with this anymore. I'M TIRED.

Poor scared Sunny, it'll be okay and so will Moon. Probably >3 Y/n is gonna have their hands full dealing with this.

I'm still working on chapters and I wanna do a pic of their planet next because it's very pretty and I wanna go there, but in the meantime if you have any questions regarding this AU, feel free to send them my way. ^-^

#Fnaf Sun #Fnaf Moon #Fnaf DCA #DCA AU #Fnaf Daycare Attendant #alien AU #Alien DCA #Dark Matter #DM Sun #DM Moon #Rhonu blogs Fnaf #Rhonu draws

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darkbluekies · 2 days ago

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P.O.V 2025 ver

Yandere!mafia boss x reader x mafia!boss enemy

Summary: To get Silas to keep his end of an agreement, a hostage is taken, someone known to be very dear to him.

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, nsfw mentions, torture, blowing people up, murder, guns, gore, blackmailing, darling breaking, self guilt, angst, humiliation, and probably more along those lines!

Word count: 5.6k

“Let me go!” you scream as you struggle, for nothing, against the rugged men pulling you left and right.

“Be silent”, one of them replies in a sharp, rude tone, “or I'll cut your tongue.”

You're pushed down on your knees on a polished, wood floor that seem to be out of place. You run your eyes around the room, scanning anything and everything. The room is dim, with a big desk, armchairs and a decorative carpet. Your heart hammers in your chest, to the point of nausea. Just an hour ago you were in the backseat of Silas’s ar, waiting for him to be done with a mission. You had been left alone with two trusted drivers. They had been shot, quick and easy, as if someone had rehearsed it. And you had been snatched by the two men holding you.

A man sits in the big chair behind the desk. He smirks at you. Hes about Silas’s age with dark hair, dimples and piercing, blue eyes that shrinks you.

“So this is Silas’s little playmate”, he says, voice full of amusement, and leans forward in his chair to get a better look at you.

He stands up and walks around the desk, walks over to you and crouches down. He takes a grip on your chin, forcing you to look at him. Your neck strains painfully. The man snickers and touches your lip with his thumb, as if wanting to open your mouth—which you refuse. If he forces his thump past your lips, you're going to bite him. Hard.

“You're a pretty, little thing, aren't you?” the man mumbles and caresses your cheek.

You swallow. You remember how scared you had been the first time you met Silas, how you barely dared dared to move, but that wasn't nothing compared to this. You knew more about this world by now, know just what kind of things that could be done to people. But you also know what happens if you don't do anything—you get married to a mob boss. You slap the man's hand away. He raises his eyebrows in shock, and amusement.

“Feisty too?” he asks and tilts his head. “You'll regret that.”

“What do you want?” you spit. “I haven't done anything!”

The man laughs, a genuine one that doesn't sound taunting. You caught him by surprise.

“You're cute”, he says. “‘You'? What the fuck could someone like you do to me? This is about Silas, your husband.”

“Then get him, what the fuck am i doing here?!” you screech.

“It's simple. You're here as a trading prop.”

“What?”

“Me and Silas had an agreement and your husband hasn't fulfilled his part. I, personally, have much patience, but even i get tired of waiting. You are here in hopes of making him fulfill his part.”

“That’s not fair …”

“That’s how this world works, didn't you know?”

You glare at him.

“You don't know?” he asks, his small smile growing. “If I want something from him, I have to take something he holds dearly to get what I want, because that son of a bitch is as slippery as an eel.”

You glare at him. The man graces your cheek, staring into your eyes. You take a deep breath and keep it in your throat. You just have to keep out until Silas comes and gets you. Everything will be okay.

“And I know for a fact that Silas holds you very dearly”, he says. “The fact that I even have you here is a miracle. There are some who don’t even believe that you exist because of how protective Silas is of you. He is skilled at keeping you hidden.”

“He will kill you for this …”, you mumble and avoid eye contact.

He’s killed people for less when it comes to you.

“I’m going to get those papers if it’s the last thing I do”, the man mutters and stands up. “And if I have to do something like this to get them, I will. I’m tired of Silas seeing me as a joke. I’m in the mood to … kid around, a little.” He looks down at you and then at one of his men. “Send him one of his little playmate’s fingers.”

You gasp, letting out the breath kept in your throat. Before you’ve realized it, you’ve stumbled up from the floor and thrown yourself towards the double doors, in hopes of saving yourself of losing limbs, but they’re faster. They grab your arms and drag you back to the spot you left. You scream, kick and fight. When they let you go, the force makes you fly into the opposite wall, hitting your elbow and head in the process. A sharp, colorful pain fills your body. A faint ringing noise in your ear. You ignore it as you crawl together, hugging your trembling body and wishing nothing more than to become one with the wall.

The man snickers and watches you from afar.

“I thought you’d be more brave”, he admits and strolls over to you. “Aren’t you married to a mob boss? Haven’t you already seen all the horrible stuff he does? Hasn’t he done them to you? Or is he the type of man to hide it all from his sweet, little innocent darling? Just like he hides you from us?”

You don’t answer. Silas has put you through stuff, you can’t deny that. He’s been mean and scary, been your worst nightmare. But he’s always made sure that you were aware that he could be much, much worse.

“Answer.”

“He doesn’t show”, you whisper and swallow air.

“Well, I am going to. I am going to ruin you for him. If he wants you all innocent and pure, I’m going to make sure he gets a tainted wife/husband back. He won’t even be able to recognise you. That will make him second guess trying to trick me in the future.”

You’re sure that your heart has stopped and sunk down to your stomach. If there's something you could have Silas to thank for, it’s the fact that he’s shielded you from all the morbid things he does.

“Don’t look so scared”, the man smiles. “I’m not going to kill you. You will go back to Silas—you have my word. I’m just going to … roughen you up a little. Show you a different side of the world you live in.”

You try not to show how scared you really are, but you’re sure that you’re as open as a book. The man walks back to his desk and sits down.

“If you know what’s best for you, you’ll stay there”, he says. “Like a passed out alcoholic.”

The men who had kidnapped you leave the room, leaving you alone with the man who’s going to destroy you. You look around, searching for something to help you, but remain still. You have to get out somehow, have to escape!

Time seem to have stopped, but when the man looks up from the computer, your legs have gone numb.

“What’s your name?” he asked. “Silas is a clever bastard, hiding your identity. Don’t even bother with any type of lying, I will know.”

You don’t answer.

“Give me your name or I will rip your fingernails one by one”, he says threateningly and crouches down in front of you. “Do you get that?”

“Yes …”, you gulp.

“What is your name?”

“Y/N.”

He looks at you, studies your face for traces of lies, until he nods and stands up again. What would you have done if he hadn’t believed you?

“Y/N Achilleos”, he says, tasting your name on his tongue. “Interesting. Nice ring you have there, by the way, must have cost a ton.”

“Why do you want to know my name?” you ask.

“No reason, really. Just curious. I know so little about you. You’re interesting, whether one likes you or not.”

“What’s your name?”

He stays silent for a few seconds. “You can call me Tony. You weren’t involved in this world before, were you?”

“How could you tell?”

The man scoffs with a smile. “I get what Silas sees in you.”

He stands up and walks over to you, pulling you up and dragging your numb legs over to the desk. He sits you down on his chair, in front of the computer. He stands behind you, holding his muscular arms on either side of you, trapping you. You glance towards the video on his computer. The thumbnail is enough to make you sick. You can’t tell what it is, exactly, but there’s enough blood for you to question if it’s real or not. Someone’s tied to a chair.

“No”, you breathe out, shaking your head. “I don’t want to.”

“You’re going to watch every single video I show you, is that clear?” Tony hisses in your ear. “Or else I’m really going to cut one of your fingers and send it to Silas. I’m not kidding.”

He reaches for the mouse.

“Please, don’t”, you beg.

“Why? Are you afraid to see the truth of what your boyfriend is doing?”

You grow cold and turn your eyes back to the thumbnail.

“I-Is it Silas in the video?” you stutter.

“No. He’s not dumb enough to film his things, but I know for a fact that he does this kind of stuff too. Watch now, or else I’ll bring out the knife.”

He grabs the mouse and moves the pointer to the play button. The first you hear are echoes of sobs and painful moans. The entire screen is filled by a man with missing limbs. Two masked men are torturing him beyond what a human body should be able to handle. You clench your eyes shut and feel how Yony grabs a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. your neck cracks.

“I told you to watch”, he hisses. “So watch.”

He throws your head back. Whiplash is hitting you in the tightest places of your neck and you hold a hand over your throat. You continue to watch the video with tears running down your cheeks, and the man hovering above you. You can feel how the image in front of you burns into your brain and you know that it’ll never go away.

“I must say, watching a video isn’t the same as actually experiencing it, don’t you think?” the man smirks once the video is over.

You feel sick.

“Just get Silas!” you almost shout. “Get him so I can leave! I watched your fucking video!”

“Did you think that we were done?” Tony asks. “No, not yet, dear. I’m not done. I’m going to taint you like you’ve never been tainted before. Better yet, I think I’ll break you.”

All his words makes you want to cry, throw up and melt into a puddle. All at the same time. Tony grabs your arm and pulls you up from the chair. He drags you out of the room, through a pair of dimly lit corridors and down a flight of stairs. You stumble in his harsh grip, still on uneasy feet. The room you stumble into reminds you of the worst of Silas’s basement, mixed with that video you just saw. The large room is divided into different parts woty invisible walls. Casino tables, machines made for pleasure you never want to experience, a bar and blood—a lot of it. A hedonistic paradise. The air is thick, hard to breathe, and smells of sex, drugs and blood.

“Trust me, spend ten minutes down here and you will be a new person”, Tony laughs.

You don't look at him. Your eyes are fixated down on the floor, which is the only place where you don't see anything you don't want to. You can't remember the last time you've been this scared. Your body has stopped reacting to the trial your brain is sending.

Silas, please. Help me. I will never take you for granted again, just please save me.

You’ve never wanted Silas to find you as badly as you want now. It’s ironic, in a morbid way, because usually you want him far away as possible.

“Let's go make some introductions”, Tony says and pulls you with him to one of the bar tables.

You stumble in front of a group of people sitting with drinks in front of them. You hit your knees on the stone floor, which sends lighting of pain up your thighs.

“Oh my, look at this little thing”, a seductive, slurred woman’s voice coos. “What a cutie, already on their hands and knees for us. Way too easy.”

You’re quick to sit back down and glare at the woman. She’s dolled up in old, torn clothing that once must have cost a fortune.

“Look at that innocent sparkle in their teary eyes”, another woman says, smiling. “It’s not often you get to see that here.”

You feel a hand on your shoulder, weighing you down like a stone.

“This is Silas Achilleos’s husband/wife”, you hear the man above you smirk.

The group of drunk people raise their eyebrows and lean forward to get a better look at you.

“Silas, hm?” a man asks and get oss his bar stool. “This is a bit too perfect, Tony.”

“He must be pissed that you took them”, the first woman laughs. “I’d pay to watch his face right now.”

You look around to see something else than their mocking, dissecting looks. Instead, you’re forced to watch all kinds of horrors. It all belongs in a nightmare. One you wish you could wake up from.

Silas, please … oh, God.

You feel how sobs build up in your chest and pushes up your throat. Your eyes fill with blurry tears. Oh, how badly you want to wake up.

“Yes, that’s it”, Tonny coos. “Cry for us.”

He pulls out his phone and films you. You try to hide your face in your hands. The woman who had taunted you crawl over and put their sticky hands on you, trying to pry them off.

“Let me go!” you scream and fight them off, voice breaking. “Don’t touch me!”

“See something you recognize, Silas?” you hear Tony murmur. “Y/N, turn around and tell your dear husband how badly you want him to save you.”

You feel sick to your stomach. There’s no way you’ll willingly give in to the man’s humiliating request. You have never been less dignified in your life, and never been this terrified. The women grab your face, their long nails poking into your skin, and forcefully turn your head towards the phone’s camera.

“Come on, Y/N”, one of them whispers in your ear, a sugar sweet slurring that makes you want to throw up. “Do it. Show him.”

You shake your head vigorously. They tug at your arms with their gnarly hands, twisting and pulling on you. Their nails sink painfully into your skin, drawing blood.

“Stop it!” you scream in agony.

“Beg your husband to save you”, Tony grins. “Let him know how scared you are.”

I hope Silas kills you.

“Silas, please”, you choke out and avoid looking into the camera. “Please help me. Please.”

You hear them chuckle around you. Tony cuts off the video and fiddles with his phone, most likely sending it to Silas. The woman let you go and you curl up, hugging yourself tightly.

Just a few minutes later, the same phone that recorded you rings. Tony smirks and presses ‘accept’, putting it on speaker.

“Only the Gods know what the fuck I’m going to do to you for this!” you hear Silas scream on the other side of the line, even before Tony has had time to say something. “And you better fucking pray that your mother will recognise your sorry ass after I’m done with you!”

Tony chuckles.

“I wouldn’t have to do this if you had fulfilled your end of the agreement, Silas”, he says, calmly. “I want my papers, and you’re going to give them to me if you want Y/N back.”

“Fine, you can have your papers, you disgusting filth! Tell me when and where and I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

“Oh, no, not now. I’m too busy. How about tomorrow at five pm?”

“No, now!”

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible. I’m not done with your darling yet. I have so much more to show them.”

Silas’s voice is venomous. “Show what? What are you doing to them?”

“If you’re going to bring Y/N into this world, why be so stupid to not show them what you’ve forced them into?”

A few seconds of silence pass. You can see in front of you how Silas exchanges a look with his second in command, both of them trying to see if the other one knows what’s going on.

“You can’t!” Silas shouts. “You have no fucking right!”

“Stop me then, but I have to let you know that I’ve already started here.”

“If you touch a single hair on my wife’s/husband’s head, I’m going to cut off your cock and make you eat it. Believe me!”

You have never heard Silas this mad before. He really does care for you.

“I’m not going to hurt them, Silas”, Tony says. “That isn’t why I’ve taken them. Hurting them doesn’t help me in the slightest. I’m just letting them see the truth that you hide from them. The lies you tell. Meet me at the old warehouse by the highway tomorrow at five pm. Bring only two men and I will do the same. No weapons, no tricks.”

“I don’t need weapons to kill you. You’ll pay for this.”

Tony smirks and hangs up. He turns to you and pulls you up from the floor.

“Tomorrow at five you’ll be free”, he says and drags you out of the basement.

He says it in a way that makes it sounds like a promise, but to you it is nothing more than a reminder of the time he has left to taint you.

It’s the third man he’s beaten to death this evening. Silas hands are throbbing in pain and he’s not sure if the blood he’s drenched in is his own or theirs—probably both. But he’s not done yet. His body is trembling with anger. He sees red. Silas is sure that even the devil would be afraid of him if he saw him now.

“Silas”, SIC breathes out behind him, letting his eyes wander over Silas with sadness.

“Not a word”, Silas hisses, holding his hand back to silence him. “I’ll kill you too And I know I’ll regret that, so stay quiet.”

SIC licks his lips nervously and looks down at his hands, staying silent. Silas breathes out heavily and lets his shoulders slump. He wants to scream, but his voice has gotten stuck in his throat.

“Do you want to know the worst thing?” he asks without turning around to look at SIC.

“What?” he wonders.

“The worst thing isn’t that they’re gone from me. Y/N’s escaped before and I always manage to find them. I know how they behave once I get them back. No, the worst thing is that, this time, i can’t do anything to help them. I have no other choice but to wait for Tony to give them back to me. And until he does, he can do whatever he wants to them.”

SIC lowers his eyes.

“And I’m scared what state they’ll be in once I do get them back”, Silas says quietly. “I’ve done my best—I’ve worked my ass off, day and night—to make sure that Y/N doesn’t know what’s going on around me. I know that they shouldn’t be in this world and that it’s my fucking fault for dragging them in … but I’ve done everything in my power to make the best of the situation. All of this hard work, for nothing.”

“He could be lying”, SIC says. “Maybe he just said that to scare you.”

“No. I know him. He has shown Y/N filthy stuff. Worse than what they saw on that USB that brought us together. That’s the worst thing.”

SIC swallowed. Silas turns around and looks at him. His black eyes were red around the corners, tears in the bottom.

“I’d rather have my brother take them again”, he hisses. “Because I know Ares. I grew up with him. I know exactly how he thinks and how he acts. But I don’t know Tony, not like that. I don’t know how far he’s willing to go … no, that might be the worst thing, actually. Fuck!”

He screams out in pure anger and SIC flinches. Silas stumbles backwards until his back hits the wall, where he sinks down on the floor with his sweaty head in his bloody hands. Every ell in his body has lost adrenaline, leaving him aching and hurting in a way he’s never felt before. He can feel his heart breaking into pieces, feel it leaking blood into his lungs. SIC walks over to the wall and sits down in front of him.

“Y/N’s stronger than you think”, he says softly. “They’ve survived your basement more times than any of your enemies.”

“That’s because I go easy on them.” Silas’s voice has lost any power it had and is now nothing more than a whisper. “I know where their breaking point is and I don’t go further than that. Tony won’t go easy on them. Won’t care about them … even if they scream, or cry, or beg.” He leans his head back against the wall. “I should never have left Y/N in the car. I shouldn’t have brought them at all.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have foreseen it. I knew I had fucked up once I saw the dead drivers. But it was already too late. How could I let someone take them?”

“You tried to shield them by letting them stay in the car. Otherwise they’d seen you kill someone.”

Silas rolls his eyes tiredly. “Seems like they’ll have to watch that anyway.”

SIC sighs.

“I’m going to kill that pathetic little insect”, Silas growls. I’m going to make sure his mother doesn’t recognise his disgusting corpse.”

“I’ll help you”, SIC says.

Silas looks at him.

“I will do whatever you want me to do”, SIC says. “Just say what, and I will do it. I will always stand behind you.”

Silas nods and hugs him. SIC hugs him back, petting his back.

“Let’s give that motherfucker butterflies in his stomach”, he says.

The night seems to never end. The hours have dragged by. You’ve seen more than you ever could have anticipated. Video after video. It never seemed to end. Tony has made sure that you have seen everything possible before five pm. You’re exhausted. The person you were yesterday seem to be so distant, so … different.

“Very well”, you hear him, “time to wrap up our little visit and send you back to your husband.”

“What if he doesn’t come?” you whisper, mortified by your own words.

What if Silas doesn’t want you anymore now that you’re not the person he wants you to be?

“If he doesn’t come to pick you up, I’ll keep you”, Tony replies. “You’ll be my own little guinea pig. I’ll force you to watch everything until your fragile brain breaks. Get up now, we have to leave.”

You stand up, slowly, to not activate the nauseating volcano in your stomach. The images of the night’s horror videos still visible in front of your eyes. They never had to touch you, never had to harm a hair on your head. They could break you, anyway.

You’re forced out of the building, feet dragged behind you. Placed in the backseat of a gray car, pressed between two men— “Bring only two men and I will do the same”. You keep your head down, eyes in your lap, for the entirety of the bumpy ride. You’re exhausted, hungry and broken. Even if Silas comes to get you, he’ll be too late.

When the car stops, you’re forced out and into an old warehouse. The cold, damp air is hard to breathe. Tony’s grip on your arm is bruising, painful.

“Now, let’s wait”, he says in a cocky tone. “Silas will be here soon enough.”

Not even five minutes later, you can hear the screeching of a car’s breaks. Your heart stops. Despite wanting nothing more than for Silas to come save you, you’re ashamed to let him see who you’ve allowed yourself to become.

The sight of him storming into the warehouse with SIC and another of his men makes your heart ache and your eyes to tear up. You’re so relieved to see that he came to get you, and so ashamed. You’ve never seen him this mad before. His black eyes seem to burn, his body language animalistic. His jaw is tightly clenched. He’s wearing his long, dark coat, his hands buried in his pockets. SIC holds a yellow paper file in his hands. Silas gives you a quick look, and all you can see is fury.

“One word out of you and I’m going to rip your eyes out”, he says coldly and takes the paper file out of SIC’s hands. “Give me what’s mine.”

“The papers first”, Tony replies and shakes you, “and then I’ll return your toy.”

Silas’s reply is short. “Don’t call them that.”

“They’re in my hands. I get to call them what I want.”

Silas eyes are enough to murder.

“The papers”, Tony says, raising his eyebrows.

Silas throws the paper file on the dirty, stone floor. One of Tony’s men walks over and picks it up. It takes everything in Silas’s power to not throw himself over him. As soon as the man has returned to Tony, you’re let go. For a second you look around, trying to confirm if you’re really free or if it’s just a test.

“Little thing, come”, Silas says and gesticulates for you to come.

You don’t need more convincing. Your legs move and before you have the time to register it, you’ve reached Silas’s open arms, a man you didn’t want anything to do with twenty four hours earlier. You’ve never been so happy to see him. You crash into his firm body and feel how he wraps his arms around you. He holds you tight, hiding your face into his shoulder.

“It’s okay”, he whispers. “It’s okay, little thing, you’re safe now.”

You break out in heavy tears, causing his heart to bleed thickly. You breathe in Silas’s familiar scent, happy to smell something else than the metallic scent of blood. He holds you firmly, mortified of having you slip away from him again. He searches for something to say to comfort you, tries his best to find the right words, but there’s nothing he can say to erase whatever happened to you. Silas glances towards Tony who is busy looking through the file. He wants to do something, something much worse than what that man did to you, but he won’t let you see anymore horrors.

“What did he do to you?” he whispers in your ear. “Tell me.”

“He forced me to watch videos of people … o-of people …”

You can’t repeat it, but you don’t have to. Silas understands.

“Did he touch you?” he whispers, trying his best to stay calm.

You shake your head without lifting your head out of his chest. He breathes out in relief.

“SIC”, he says over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Bring Y/N out to the car. I don’t want them to see what I am going to do.”

SIC nodded and took you out of Silas’s arms. His grip on you is softer than you’ve ever felt him be before. SIC walks out to the black car with you.

“Are you hungry?” he asks and sits you don in the backseat.

“More nauseous”, you admit quietly.

“Perfect, then you can drink some juice.”

He opens a bottle of sugary apple juice and gives it to you. You hold it in your hands, contemplating.

“I’m bruised”, you mumble. “What will Silas say?”

“I thought that you said that they didn’t hurt you?” SIC asks. “Did you lie to him?”

“I fought back when they dragged me around. Silas won’t like it.”

“He’s not mad at you, Y/N. He’s pissed at himself. I will cover all the mirrors for you, if you prefer that.”

“Thank you.”

“Now sit here and wait for Silas to come back. Drink your juice.”

Silas pulls up a gun from his pocket.

“We said no weapons!” Tony reminds him.

“You broke the rules by taking my husband/wife”, Silas smiles. “I’m just making it even.”

He’s quick to shoot the two men he had brought with him. They fall down dead beside him, their bodies leaking blood onto the stone floor. Tony’s terrified. Silas drinks it in. He gives the gun to his remaining man.

“I’m not going to shoot you”, he says and removes his coat, rolling up his sleeves. “I want to feel you die under my hands.”

He runs forward and throws himself over him. Tony’s knocked to the ground. He tries fighting back, but Silas’s anger makes him quicker, stronger. He sees your distraught face in front of him for every punch and wishes that he could kill him over and over again. How could he hurt you? An angel? Silas grabs his head in his hands and slams it into the stone floor, over and over again, until the man’s head shatters.

“Done”, he breathes out and stumbles away from them.

He grabs the yellow file and walks out to the car, wiping his hands with his handkerchief on the way. SIC looks at him, eyes asking if it’s time. Silas nods. SIC switches places with Silas and hurries into the warehouse.

“Hi, baby”, Silas smiles and hugs you. “How are you feeling? Did he make you drink some juice?”

“I’m not feeling like drinking juice”, you say. “But I appreciate it … i’m sorry, Silas.”

His eyes glow with worry. “Why are you sorry?”

“I should have been stronger.”

“You are so incredibly strong, my darling, don’t say that!”

“I tried to fight back.”

“I’m so proud of you. You’re safe now. I’m here now and you don’t have to fight anymore. I have already done that for you.”

“Is he dead?”

“Like a mammoth.”

Silas cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead softly.

“This is my fault”, he says. “And I will do everything to make things better. I shouldn’t have left you in the car. I shouldn’t have brought you at all. The car has been upgraded, no one will ever manage to break in again. Not that I will ever leave you alone in it again, but …”

He takes your hand in his and lifts it to his lips, kissing desperately. He’s never felt a guilt this strong before. It’s a piercing feeling cutting through his heart. You have a long road to go to feel better, and he will stay with you every step of the way.

“I hate to see you upset … tell me what I can do to make you feel better”, he pleads and hugs your hand. “I will give you anything you want. Nothing is too much. I will buy you anything. I will take you wherever you want to go. Do you want to meet your parents? We can go there, I’m serious.”

“I just want to sleep”, you sob and shake your head. “I can’t think …”

You want to escape this living nightmare in hopes of finding it easier in dreamland. Silas nodded and scooched in beside you, hugging you to his body.

“Just sleep”, he says softly. “Sleep on my shoulder. I’m right beside you.”

“I’m safe with you … aren’t I?”

“As safe as you can be.”

“Do you promise?”

“I promise. Just rest. I love you. I’m so sorry for this. I will take care of you, whatever you need, I’ll get you.”

You lean your head on his shoulder and shut your eyes slowly. He holds his muscular arm around your shoulders to keep you close and wraps his coat around the two of you. His lips never leaves your face as he fights back tears. It grows like a bowling ball in his throat, but he refuses to cry. you are safe and that filth is dead, he tells himself. It’s all over, but his rage is still ravenous.

SIC walks into the warehouse and takes a quick look at the three dead bodies on the floor, in pools of their own blood. He walks over to the most gruesome one, not needing to see his clothes to know that it’s Tony. His broken skull is enough. SIC takes out a cylinder out of his blazer, a stick of dynamite he’s been waiting for years to use. He lights it and places it in Tony’s mouth before hurrying out of the warehouse. He hears the explosion behind him and smiles.

“Is it done?” Silas asks as he returns.

“Let’s say that he’s a hard puzzle now”, SIC laughs. “A thousand pieces isn’t enough to describe how many pieces I blew him into.”

“Thank you, SIC.”

“Of course. The one that messes with Y/N messes with you, and in turn with me. I told you that I would do whatever you wanted.”

“Thank you.”

“Take care of Y/N now. I will clean up.”

Silas nods and hugs you closer. You cling onto him.

“Thank you”, you whisper and meet SIC’s eyes.

“Of course”, he replies and closes the car door.

Silas hugs you and kisses your forehead. He has only two people in this world he cares about, and he will kill anyone that dares to come close to either of them.

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc #yandere oneshot

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fidgetyhands · 2 days ago

Text

Transcription: a series of tweets from The Mountain Goats (mountain_goats) on Jan 1 2022.

so I was washing potatoes last night when I got excited

it was just one of those moments, you know. I was getting dinner together and I looked at the ingredients coming together on the counter

and I thought to myself, and said aloud, "Hell yes, I have three potatoes"

living with me means having to develop a robust tolerance for hearing a guy occasionally cry out aloud: saying, for example, "Hell yes, I have three potatoes"

but over and above my everyday state of excitement about the ten trillion small things that ease the path a little -- colors, shades, sounds, flavors, sensations, moods, fleeting thoughts, moments of transcendence when you're very lucky --

I had one of those moments of gratitude to have food, and not just the food but a counter to prep it on and a stove for cooking

but it wasn't just the food and the kitchen and the comforts of home, either

it was me standing at the stove in a house where I'm safe. got here on my own two feet. had a lot of help, plenty of points where I wouldn't have bet on the outcome. now I have three potatoes, you know?

here's the thing

some of you reading this are in houses where you're not safe all the time, and I know it

some of you are day-to-day with any of a thousand different troubles and on any given day you feel like you might buckle

maybe you've felt like that a lot of times over the past couple years. A lot of people have. some people have felt that way who'd had some preparation, and some people have found themselves navigating scary, unfamiliar straits

but if you're reading this right now you managed to make it work. maybe it doesn't feel like it worked all that well, maybe you feel like you're coasting across the goal line with no fuel at all left in the tank,

but here you are

here you are.

having found some way to nourish yourself through it.

look at the calendar, look at the clock. you sustained yourself through this. maybe you got sick, maybe it was real bad. maybe some things got better and maybe they got worse. but give yourself the gift of a long look in the mirror

look at the person hard, uncertain times, in days of sickness everywhere, will see another year

that's the person who will do it again, and to that person, over and over, I say, lout enough for the neighbors to hear,

Hell yes, hell yes, hell yes, hell yes, hell yes

from all of us here at Mountain Goats Central Command a thank you for seeing us through 2021. it was so good to see you in the flesh again. stay safe. trust yourselves. we will see one another through to safe times

this year's New Year's Eve thread is dedicated to that one guy who's mad about people wishing one another happy new year: may he never know why people actually do it

and may the rest of us, collectively, defiantly, never forget it /thread

from 2 years ago, still hits. happy new year kids

#the mountain goats #supportive

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lovecla · 3 days ago

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THIS IS MY PLAYPEN ; JACK HUGHES.

WARNINGS unedited, jealous jack!!!!

WORD COUNT 0.7k

FROM ME TO YOU it’s officially 2025 where i live and i just wanted to write something short and funny because we need more jealous jack fics in this world *mark ruffalo protesting meme*. honestly, i’m just so grateful for all of you i wish i could drag you to my home and smooch you all. thank u so much for everything!

𐙚

“I FEEL like a skirt shouldn’t be that short,” Jack says, eyeing you across the room. “I mean, when she bends over to do that I can literally see her panties.”

“You mean when she bends over to grind on her best friend?” Luke chuckles, leaning against the counter. “She’s just dancing, man.”

“The problem isn’t her dancing—”

“The problem is that you’re not the one she’s bending over for, right?” Luke rolls his eyes when Jack gives him the finger. Sometimes he felt like Jack was the youngest one among them all.

“I could totally be the one she’s bending for,” he says, acting all nonchalant and unimpressed. Luke almost laughs with how full of bullshit his brother is. “She likes me.”

Luke sips on his beer, and Jack turns around, furrowing his eyebrows. “Why didn’t you say anything? Do you know something I do not?”

Luke places his glass on the counter and raises both of his hands. “Man, chill. If she likes you, if she doesn’t, it doesn’t matter; that’s not why we’re here today. It’s Mercer’s birthday, so suck it up, dude.”

Jack knows he should listen to his brother and act with his upper head, but it gets so hard— literally— when he has to stand there with his teammates and pretend he’s not watching your every move like a fucking creep.

He had never noticed how hot you were. He knew you were pretty, because only a blind person couldn’t do so, but hot? Yeah, no. You were usually the type of girl who wore large clothes, and even though he thought you were cute nonetheless, now that he’s seeing you with other eyes, he realizes he can’t live without having at least a taste.

But fucking Johnathan Kovacevic beats him to it, and Jack seriously wants to punch the guy in the face because really? Can that dumbass not see Jack spent the last thirty minutes or so eye fucking you? Like, hello?

He knows he can’t really be upset, but when you smile, bright and sweet, he swears he’s seeing red everywhere.

“Dude, chill, what the hell,” Jack hears someone say, but he doesn’t even acknowledge who. He just keeps staring as you lean forward to reach Kovacevic’s ear, standing on the tip of your toes.

You look so fucking gorgeous. Even if Jack believes you shouldn’t be wearing something that short— not because it doesn’t look good but because he can’t even protect you if someone decides to try something funny—, he knows you’re the most beautiful person he has ever seen.

Yet now you were laughing at Kovacevic, probably not even funny, jokes.

“Luke,” he calls his brother, who silently rolls his eyes before putting his phone down to give his brother his full attention. “Can you, like, help me out?”

“I’m not going to talk to her,” he says. “What is this, fifth grade? ‘Hey, Y/n, my brother really likes you and would like to hold hands during recess if that’s possible—‘” he says, doing a very annoying voice.

Jack holds in the need to punch him.

“No. I meant something like getting Johnathan out of there or something,” he explains. “So I can go talk to her.

“That’s just as childish but fine.”

Luke makes his way to where you and Johnathan were standing and says something that makes Kovacevic’s eyebrows meet his hairline and, the best part, also makes him leave.

So you’re standing in the middle of the dance floor by yourself, but not for long because—

“Hey, there, Y/n,” Jack greets you, trying his hardest to sound cool. You chuckle, smiling at him.

“Hi, Rowdy. How are you?”

“Better now.” He answers smoothly, which makes you laugh.

“You’re awful,” you grin. “Aren’t you supposed to be with Mercer? It’s his birthday…”

“I’d rather be here, with you,” he puts his hands inside his front pockets, and you stare at him closely. The hat he’s wearing makes him look hotter, even if it gets you a little bit sad because you can’t fully see his perfect, golden hair. “You look hot.”

You tilt your head, the unexpected compliment making you blush. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he hums. “You look even hotter now that you’re not talking to other guys.”

That makes you roll your eyes, even if you’re still smiling. “You sound like a toxic boyfriend.”

“I could be that, yeah,” he smirks.

“Toxic?” You raise your eyebrow.

“A boyfriend,” he presses his lips together. Then, “Your boyfriend.”

“Well,” you step closer, looking up at him. “I think we can make that work.”

He smiles before kissing you, and surely, the rest is story.

#jh86 #Jack hughes #jack hughes au #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes fic #jack hughes imagine #new jersey devils x you #new jersey devils x reader #new jersey devils fic #new jersey devils

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witherby · 3 days ago

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i need more damian x mer!reader plssss😞😞😞 im literally OBSESSED with it

YOU'RE ALL SUCH SWEETIES!!! Ok gang, just for you 🩷

⚠️ HEADS UP: this part features conflict. There's blood, some unintentional self harm, language barriers, and general chaos! ⚠️

Human!Damian x Mer!Reader Part 4

Click to read parts 1, 2, and 3 here!

There's another rock sitting on the lip of the tank — one of the painted, water-safe ones they let you have — when Damian and Bruce arrive for dinner.

It's the weekend, meaning the aquarium is closed, and it takes a little more smacking on the surface of the water than usual for you to pop up. You shoot Bruce a disinterested glance, his presence vaguely familiar, then chirp sleepily at Damian, evidently having been awoken from a nap.

"Hey, Pr—" Damian catches himself and fakes a cough, then addresses you by your actual name. You furrow your brow, irritated, but still reach forward to take the offered bucket.

Holding it carefully in one arm, your other, webbed hand nudges the rock into Damian's lap. Damian pockets it with an easy nod, signing Thank You. Delighted, you offer him some crab after splitting the shell open with your teeth. He declines. Oh well; more for you!

Eating in front of Damian is little issue, but having Bruce stare at you so intently makes you turn away, hugging the food to your chest and rumbling quietly. Conversation floats in the air behind you.

" — might already be bonded. How often...swim together?"

"At least twice a....insisted it wasn't harming...wouldn't if I realized...promise."

Hmm. Your mate-to-be sounds upset. You dislike that greatly. You spit a half-chewed carp back into the bucket.

"Damian, I know...not mad at you for...unprecedented, you understand that, right? This...to a wild animal...vastly unintelligent..."

You growled and spun back around, tail swishing around fast enough to make the surface of the tank slightly choppy. Unintelligent?! Who was unintelligent? You learned every stupid spin, squeak, and trick you'd been taught! And your Damian was the brightest, kindest, most special caretaker in this whole place!

Bruce looks at you in confusion. Damian looks at you with awe, because he knows you're smart enough to pick up on the gist of most things, like the conversation they're having with each other. English is not your mother tongue, but you are learning, slowly and steadily. Because you are not unintelligent!

You bare your teeth, snapping them twice at Bruce, and firmly push the half-empty bucket over the lip of the tank. It clatters to the floor, the metal twang echoing around the room loud enough to make your head-fins flatten. Both land creatures jump back to avoid getting fish guts all over their legs (a word you learned recently, because you're very smart!), but Damian comes back to the edge of the tank to soothe you quickly.

"Easy, Princess," he mutters, the nickname slipping out this time. You preen and rest your chin on his extended palm, blinking up at his beautiful, green eyes. Your tail stops swishing as hard, and he seems to ease up at the same time you do. Reading your physical cues and responding accordingly is one of the reasons Damian quickly became your favorite, and this demonstration only hits that nail on the head. "Everything is just fine. Father and I are simply talking." He gestures to your discarded dinner. "Do you want any more?"

You huff and turn your face away. Damian takes your dismissal for what it really is and looks at Bruce next.

"You should apologize."

His father's eyes widen. "For what? I didn't throw a bucket on the ground."

"For the slight regarding their cognitive ability. You hurt their feelings." Damian sounds offended on your behalf. It makes something in your chest thrum pleasantly. "I'll fetch a broom for the mess while you say you're sorry."

"I can grab the broom —" one sharp look from his son quiets Bruce down immediately. You and he both watch Damian leave the room, then the human regards you warily while you regard him with a scowl.

Bruce tries to approach the tank. You bare your teeth and he stops. Good human. Good, rude human. Do not approach. You are very scary and fearsome. You might just use your teeth for something more than food if sufficiently provoked.

"You really can understand me, can't you?" He asks, almost rhetorically. The flat look you give him makes his cheeks flush with color. "You can. That's...fascinating. I've skimmed your file of course — I co-run the aquarium, I have to be knowledgeable of all the animals — but I obviously don't know you like my son does."

Ugh. This land creature uses small words. Damian uses big words, which helps you learn faster even if it's more difficult to latch onto what he's talking about.

Bruce calls your name again, and your eyes snap to his. He looks less embarrassed and more curious. More like he's recognizing you as a being capable of proper thought and not some dumb, prey animal in a big play pen. Something in you becomes less tense.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. "Really. I'm coming from a place of concern, is all. I never intended to hurt your feelings. You mean a lot to my son, and the feeling seems to be mutual. My concern is just...the extent of the feeling. Damian doesn't have many human friends, and hiring him on to help manage the aquarium hasn't encouraged him in that regard. I just don't...I just want him to..."

He trails off and sighs. This time, when Bruce tries to take a step closer, you keep your teeth hidden behind your lips. He perches on the lip of the tank to look at you, blue eyes taking in all your aquatic features. They're pretty, reminding you of the water, but not as pretty as Damian's.

Just for fun, you puff up and flare out all of your fins just to see him flinch back. Your chirping laughter makes Bruce crack his own smile, and he shakes his head.

"I understand why he adores you," he mutters, something fond in his tone. You sway back and forth in the water with a prideful trill. Obviously you adore him back. That's why you gave him your scales, to prove your devotion. As soon as Damian gives you something valuable back, you'll be life-mates! You're so excited!

"I think... I think that's the biggest reason why I have to separate you two."

You freeze when your brain processes what he just said. Damian reenters the room at that moment, carrying a broom and dust pan to sweep up your abandoned meal.

"Those imbecilic interns moved the cleaning supplies again," he scowls, taking care of the food with a shake of his head. "I swear, father, no one knows how to put anything back in this facility. Some days it feels like Tim and I are the only competent people here."

"And your old man, right?" Says Bruce, rising to his feet. Damian doesn't answer that. "Oh, ouch." His teasing tone shifts, becomes earnest and quiet. "You know I only want what's best for you, right, Tadpole?"

"I know," the boy sighs, dumping the food into a nearby garbage can. He turns to face you, smiling, until he sees the fear on your face. "Something wrong?"

You click your tongue and whistle imploringly, lifting a hand out of the water to beckon him closer. Damian moves to comply, but Bruce's hand curling around his arm impedes his progress. You immediately whistle again, more insistent. More distressed.

"Father, let go, they're upset by something. Let me —"

"I can't do that, kiddo," Bruce frowns, firmly but not unkindly. "I'm reassigning them a new primary caretaker. The emotional attachment to you is too detrimental to their life here."

Damian's eyes widen. "You're not serious."

He tries to yank his arm out of Bruce's grip, but the man is taller and stronger than his son. He wraps his other arm around Damian's waist, guiding him towards the doors.

"Father, let go of me! This is not — everything is fine! I-I won't swim in the tank anymore, I won't physically touch them anymore, I promise! Don't do this!"

Your trilling becomes sharper as you note the distress in your beloved's voice. You throw your arms up to the edge of the tank and try to hoist yourself over, but you've never done it without the help of a caretaker, and you slip back into the water with a rough splash. Undeterred, you flick your tail to give you more momentum, scrabbling against the smooth, concrete edge and crooning for Damian.

You see his vibrant, green eyes, focused on you and glittering like your scales. They've never looked so shiny. Instinctively, you know this isn't a positive trait for a land creature to have.

"Stop, please stop! Look at them, they'll get hurt if you take me away," Damian insists, thrashing against his dad. Bruce hangs on tighter, almost dragging him at this point. "Don't — don't, Baba, please, I'm not hurting them at all, I'll figure out how to break off the engagement, I'll do whatever you want!"

"Calm down, Damian," Bruce murmurs, "please, we're gonna talk about this, I promise, but right now you need to —"

Both of them startle when you finally jump out of the tank, hitting the floor with a heavy thud. The hard surface scrapes against your skin and scales in a distinctly uncomfortable way, but you ignore it and start dragging your body towards Damian. Your arms buckle under the strain of maneuvering yourself out of the water, and the flopping of your long, heavy tail isn't helping as much as you'd hoped.

Bruce yanks Damian behind him protectively and pulls a radio off his hip. You hiss and snarl, offended that he would dare think you'd hurt him. Damian tries to duck out from under him, calling to you with obvious concern.

You croon back, the sound low and warbly in your anger, and lunge for him. Scales get scraped painfully off of your tail, leaving a trail of red that you pay no mind. Bruce dodges your clumsy attempts and hoists Damian up by the waist so he doesn't break away either. More of your caretakers burst through the doors, one of them holding a funny, shiny contraption, and there's lots more yelling. They all look as panicked and distressed as you feel.

Good. They should know how much pain they're causing by taking away your precious Damian.

One of the caretakers — named Clark, you think; he comes around mostly to do your health checkups — crouches low and flashes his palms in a show of no ill intent. You reach out with your own palm and lurch forward again, shoving him out of your way. He will not impede you. None of them will.

More scales litter the concrete, stained red with blood. The shiny contraption held in another person's hands — Dick, the loud one you remember — makes a sharp popping noise, and you feel something stab your shoulder.

You flinch back momentarily, palming at it. Damian's distressed yelling reaches a crescendo, and you feel compelled to meet it.

Your jaw clicks from stretching your mouth open so wide. Instinct and rage guide you to draw breath, deeper than you ever have, and bellow.

The resulting sound is a haunting wail, piercing the air around you and making the water in the tank ripple, making the land creatures cry and cover their ears, making the windows rattle and warp. You wail and cry and scream at the injustice, at the audacity of these people to take from you what is yours. You want it back. You want him back. You want Damian!

You see Clark buckle and clutch at his head. You see Dick drop the shiny device that hurt you. You see Bruce grit his teeth and cover one ear, the other busy holding onto Damian.

You see Damian pressing his hands to his ears. You see water running down his face. You see him looking at you with a mixture of fear and upset.

Your mouth falls closed with a snap of your teeth, startled and ashamed. You had hurt Damian. You hurt him and he was scared of you now.

That was not supposed to happen. You didn't mean it.

What have you done?

There's movement in your periphery you pay no mind to. Your back lights up with pain in two more places, and the world slowly starts to spin and lose focus. You stop resisting and slump to the floor, eyes drooping as you continue to look forlornly at Damian.

Damian, who looks back as more tears run down his face. Damian, who is screaming again. Damian, who vanishes through the doors that Bruce finally drags him off to.

You warble miserably and close your eyes, letting the sedatives take you away into a fitful slumber.

#batfam x reader #damian wayne x reader #mermaid au #damian wayne #damian x reader

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lacydollette · 2 days ago

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Lol, this is from my own current personal angst in my life but I was thinking it can be used for an angsty Rafe x Reader. I have very low self esteem, I don't think I look pretty so I have a hard time accepting that a guy could be interest in me or find me appealing, especially cuz guys have called ''mid''. Right now I'm talking to THE sweetest guy. THE most greenest flag of all. Super respectful, mature and kind. I had a freakout and pushed him away, wanted to stop talking. He got super upset, send me a drunk text basically being like ''I'm so attracted to u and your everything I've ever dreamt of. I just wanna make you happy and make you smile. Your so special to me. I keep saying that your beautiful, amazing and gorgeous but you won't hear it. Please don't let your insecurites get in the way of us. I fkn miss you'' I mean...hey feel free to take whatever inspiration you want from that, change it, build on it, whatever you want! We just want a sappy head over heels Rafe who is heartbroken being pushed away (but with a happy ending)

a/n tysm for sharing this with me! and please don’t let your doubts get in the way of your happiness. you are BEAUTIFUL and you MATTER ❤️‍🩹 i hope u like this little piece.

warnings rafe cameron x fem!reader, reader with low self esteem, situationship, angst, fluff, rafe being a sweetheart

Rafe couldn’t really tell when it started, but he could feel it in your forced smiles and short responses. He tried to convince himself it was nothing, but the ache in his chest told him otherwise. Every attempt to figure out what he had done wrong was met with your dismissive shrug and a short, “I’m fine.”

But what Rafe didn’t know about was the chaos in your mind. You liked him—really liked him—but your insecurities were keeping you from letting yourself fall completely. You couldn’t ignore the way girls seemed to flirt with Rafe at parties, the way people whispered that you weren’t pretty or cool enough, to be with someone like him. It didn’t matter how many times he told you that you were beautiful—the doubt in your mind drowned out his words. So, you began to pull away, convinced it was only a matter of time before he realized you weren’t what he wanted.

And that’s why Rafe ended up going to this party alone, although it should have been a night that you two spend together. You had promised to go, only to back out at the last minute with a stupid excuse about not feeling well. Rafe knew you were lying. Obviously he didn’t want to go without you, but after Topper wouldn’t stop begging him, he gave in.

He spent the first hour trying to lose himself in the crowd, nursing a beer and pretending to laugh at Topper’s jokes, but it was useless. Every girl who tried to flirt with him only reminded him of you, and every drink made the knot in his chest tighten. Eventually, he escaped out into the yard, needing space to think—or maybe just to breathe.

The cool night air sobered him slightly, but not enough to stop him from pulling out his phone. His fingers hovered over your contact before he finally hit call. It rang three times before you picked up.

“Rafe?” You said softly, voice trembling slightly. You winced at how vulnerable you sounded.

“hi, baby.” he said, his voice breaking slightly before going right in. “What’s going on with you? Please, just tell me. Did I do something? Did I hurt you somehow? Because if I did, fuck I swear to God, I didn’t mean to.”

Your throat tightened, guilt twisting in your stomach. He sounded so desperate, so unlike the confident, self-assured Rafe you knew. You didn't know what to say, how to explain something you couldn't even fully understand yourself.

“Talk to me, y/n,” he pleaded. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep guessing what’s wrong. I care about you too much to lose you like this.” His voice cracked, and he raked a hand through his hair, his frustration spilling over. “I’m completely crazy about you. I don’t care about anyone else. You’re it for me. You’re the only one I want.”

Your heart shattered at his words. He cared about you, really cared about you. But how could he? How could someone like Rafe Cameron, with his perfect smile and effortless charm, care about someone like you?

"Rafe..." you whispered, unsure of what to say. “No,” he interrupted. “You have no idea how much you mean to me. I think about you all the time—when I wake up, when I go to sleep. You’re all I want, y/n. And if there’s even a part of you that feels the same way—then please, stop pushing me away.”

The silence that followed was unbearable. Rafe leaned against a tree, his heart pounding so loudly it drowned out everything else. Then he heard you breathe out, followed by muffled sobs, which you tried so hard to suppress by pressing your palm over your mouth. You wanted to believe him, wanted to let his words sink in and erase all your doubts. But the fear was still there.

“I didn’t think I was enough for you,” you finally whispered, voice trembling. “You could have anyone, Rafe. And people keep saying I don’t deserve you, and maybe they’re right.”

“Are you kidding me?” he said, his voice rising as he couldn’t believe that you’d actually think that. “Baby, you’re more than enough. You’re everything. Don’t let what other people say get in your head. They don’t know you. They don’t know us.”

Your sniffle came through the line, and he could picture you wiping your tears, head bowed like it always was when you were upset. “I just… I didn’t want to hold you back.”

“You’re not holding me back,” he replied softly. “You’re the only thing keeping me sane.” He paused. “Please, just let me in. Let me prove to you how much you mean to me.”

The sincerity in his voice was undeniable, and you believed him. Believed that he was serious about you two. “Okay.” You said. Relief washed over him, and he exhaled shakily. “Okay,” he repeated, his lips curving into a smile. “I’m coming to you right now.”

Your eyes widened, “No, Rafe, you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he said firmly. “Stay where you are. I’m coming to you. We’ll figure this out together.” And with that, he ended the call, his heart pounding with determination. He didn’t care what anyone else thought. You were his, and he wasn’t going to let you go.

#blurbs ₊˚⊹♡#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader

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fanfoolishness · 3 days ago

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Going for the whole list. Trying to make the most of my time before I head back to work!

48 fics. Holy cow! Then again, I love writing things in the 1000 - 5000 word range, which makes this sort of nonsense possible.

Something new... I can't say that there's much I did that's utterly new. I really stuck within my wheelhouse of angst, hurt/comfort, family feels and Dragon Age romance. I've also been at this ficcing thing for nearly 25 years, so it's getting a little hard to be entirely new with what I write. Unless you mean new things like new characters, which I certainly did, with dives on all the Batch and then exploring things like Lucanis and Spite's dynamic.

The Bad Batch has inspired the most work of the year, between awesome challenges like @summer-of-bad-batch and friends encouraging me. But, I know that Dragon Age is going to be a powerful engine for my creativity for the next several years if the previous games are anything to go off of, thanks to the magic of replayability and making new characters.

I wrote mainly for Jedi: Survivor, The Bad Batch, and Dragon Age: The Veilguard with a little dabbling in The Mandalorian.

Harding x Rook, though I was so dazzled by getting through the game I didn't get as deep in my feels as I might have. I might replay some parts of my first Rook just for that. Lucanis x Rook has really stolen my heart though. I'm nothing if not a sucker for a tortured man, especially one where the romance ends hopefully!

Cal Kestis, Crosshair, Omega, Tech, both of my Rooks, Lace Harding, Lucanis, really the Veilguard in general.

Yep! The Bad Batch was totally new, and we didn't get the Veilguard until Halloween.

Most meaningful fic for me to write.... a rain that sounds like home tackles sibling grief, recovery, and learning to accept help through a character who struggles with admitting he feels anything at all. Dragging Crosshair through his feelings for 8 chapters was a painful and meaningful joy.

Loved working on the waves flowing, the dawn blooming. Tears kept seeping out of my eyes as I wrote. It's full of a bittersweet pride and fierce family love that Hunter feels for Omega, with a side look at a Crosshair who's fully at peace.

What fic was most satisfying to finish: a sickness of the soul. 10 chapters when I don't often do chaptered fic (usually one every few years, but this year I had two!!), deep conversations between Cal and Merrin, Weird Force Shit, and a deep look at Cal's fears and hatreds. This was really fun even when it was difficult, and I still love rereading it.

a rain that sounds like home, hands down. I stewed over it for weeks, maybe months, before I got enough down to start to feel confident posting it. It was so hard to avoid the temptation to have Crosshair be a mess right away, when he's THE MOST emotionally unavailable character in the history of ever, and while I wanted my big messy breakdown I forced myself to take 30K to get there. Many things to @just-here-with-my-thoughts who listened to me beating my head against the wall on this.

the thing with feathers (it isn't hope.) was surprisingly fun and easy and I banged it out in a morning with very little editing needed. Spite and Lucanis figuring each other out with a healthy side of whump makes me happy.

Longest: a rain that sounds like home at 43,000 words. Shortest: Spite's Sight, where Spite sees something wrong with Rook but can't describe it, 119 words, almost a true drabble.

Oooh, fav writing songs. Twice by Little Dragon is a hypnotic, spare little piano song that helps me get into a groove easily; Tell My Lover by Kathryn Joseph is another deeply moody piano song that winds up on almost all of my shipping playlists when I need an angsty vibe. Barnacled Warship by Johnny Flynn was one I really loved for chipped Crosshair vibes. I loved Cinder Well's Two Heads, Grey Mare for Cal's grief when writing a sickness of the soul.

Hardest fic to title: the shorter they are, often the tougher they are to pull out a phrase for the title. Little drabbles often just get one or two interesting words to name them.

Oooooh, fav title. a sickness of the soul grabbed me immediately as Merrin's diagnosis for Cal's dark side leanings; but I think I just adore the take on Emily Dickinson's poem with the thing with feathers (it isn't hope). For a single word title, I really liked Senescence as a rather medical word applied to the Batch entering their twilight years, a callback to the Kaminoans' presence in their lives from birth until death.

Favorite opening line?? oh man. I'm really not that great at opener lines, they're not my favorite. My very first Bad Batch fic, Still, had a decent one: It’s a feeling every soldier knows instinctively: the unique prickle of the hairs on the back of the neck, the slight stiffening of the spine, the body’s realization coming a split second before the mind’s.

Favorite closing line is going to be much more difficult. I love closers. But upon review this year, I didn't have any that really bowled me over! I do like this one from ill-fitted, about Crosshair in The Solitary Clone: The shadows pool around him, and he waits to go and keep the peace.

Favorite piece of dialogue: I really liked this open moment from Hunter, set during Breaching the Wall when Crosshair isn't sure if he can recover. "Crosshair, you’re the most stubborn bastard I’ve ever met.” Hunter’s voice was warm, affectionate. “If you decide to get better, you will. I know it. You just… you have to decide you deserve it.”

Funniest line might be this exchange between Tech and Phee in A New Fascination:

“We still need to get you back in one piece. I have a feeling your family would have strong words for me if I left you here for the birds.” “The gulls would not be interested in me unless I had already died,” Tech pointed out. “I am far too large to register as a prey item for this species.”

21. What surprised me while working on a story? I was quite surprised to go on a tangent in a rain that sounds like home and introduce Crosshair to a bunch of elderly characters on Pabu. Crosshair, darling of the elderly. It didn't change the whole story, but proved a great way to show him starting to weave himself into daily life on Pabu and start to form his own connections with the community separate from his relationships with his siblings.

22. Ugh, Google Docs because I can write from my big heavy gaming laptop at home or from my iPad Pro at a coffee shop. I know they're evil, yes, I know.

23. Finishing TWO chaptered fics with concepts that were difficult to wrangle, where both fics stymied me at multiple times, where both challenged me and I challenged them right back.

24. How do I celebrate finishing fics? Often by scampering off to my husband to chatter at him about how excited I was to finish it.

25. Go back to the source material, especially for Dragon Age. Going to dive right back in after this most likely.

26. Go check out my art blog at @doodlingfoolishness :-D All my art goes there. I also customized two droids and a puffer pig this year as part of my general Star Wars fandom, haha, and worked on multiple Batuu bounds/cosplay ideas.

27. Just Summer of Bad Batch and the upcoming Changed zine with a focus on Tech and Crosshair!

28. I would thank @stardustandash for hanging out in multiple fandoms with me, @mordororbust for patiently listening to me freak out even when we haven't had fandoms in common for years, @red-velvet-panda and @azertyrobaz for just being generally awesome (even if I got some very stupid Crosshair related nicknames on Discord from them), and @rederiswrites for being an awesome writer and also for sharing my love for Lucanis x Rook/cheering my writing on in general.

29. I wrote nearly 172,000 words this year!!!! Could I write 3000 more tonight to get to 175K??? Doubtful but I'm still extremely proud of this, it was my best year ever!

30. So. Much. Dragon Age. And we're heading back to the Severed Floor soon... there's going to be an awful lot to explore!

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

#fandom #writing #my datv fic #my batcher fic #my jedi fic #fanfiction #long post #text post

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ikkyfics · 2 days ago

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may i req a remus fic? maybe smtg angsty? like hes dating the r for a bet? i lovee u anyways, I'll devour whatever remus fics u decided to write my love

Sweet Lies

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: Remus had come closer to you. He had said the right words, held your hand, kissed you with a tenderness that felt so real. But it was all a lie. All part of a stupid bet.

Warnings: angst

A/N:honey, I hope you like it and you are so sweet, saying these things that make my heart race - thank you so much <333333 I really hope this doesn't just sound like a stupid cliché

Masterlist

Remus Lupin entered your life like a comet: unexpected, bright, and impossible to ignore. It was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when you stopped seeing him as just another quiet student from your house and began to notice the quiet strength he carried. There was something in the way he seemed to notice the details that everyone else missed—a book you liked to carry with you, the slightly frustrated tone in his voice when someone interrupted you during a heated discussion about spells. He didn’t just see you, but seemed to understand the parts of you that no one else bothered to unravel.

You had always been calmer, more reserved. In a castle full of extravagant personalities and voices echoing down stone corridors, you were the type of person who preferred to observe. But Remus changed that. Not in a grand or obvious way, but with small gestures that slowly began to dismantle the walls you had built around yourself.

“You’re always so focused here,” he commented once, sitting beside you in a quiet corner of the library. His brown eyes shone with something that seemed like genuine admiration. “It’s like the world could end outside, and you wouldn’t even notice.”

You had laughed, trying to look away, but he didn’t give you room to escape. “Maybe because the world is calmer in here,” you replied, closing the book you were reading. “There aren’t as many distractions.”

“Is that so?” His tone was curious, almost challenging. “And me? Am I a distraction?”

He was. From the first moment he pulled a chair next to you, from the first time he asked if you needed help with that complicated spell in Defense Against the Dark Arts. His presence was a constant distraction—and one you didn’t want to escape.

Now, as you both walked across the school grounds, the night air bringing with it a chill that made the sky look even more starry, Remus held your hand gently. His fingers were long and slender, marked with scars he never fully explained, but which you had learned to recognize as an essential part of him.

“Are you cold?” he asked suddenly, stopping in the middle of the path to look at you. The moonlight danced on his brown hair, tousled by the wind.

“Not really,” you lied, not wanting to break the moment.

Remus raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a smile you knew was reserved for when he was about to challenge you. “You’re not a very good liar, you know that?”

Before you could answer, he took off the scarf he was wearing and carefully wrapped it around your neck. The touch of his fingers brushing your skin made a pleasant warmth rise on your cheeks.

“All set,” he said, adjusting the scarf as if it were the most important thing in the world. “Now, no cold can get to you.”

You didn’t respond, simply pulling him by the collar of his robe, making him lean closer. Your lips met in a slow, peaceful kiss, a perfect reflection of how Remus made you feel. He was everything you didn’t know you needed: secure, warm, and a little broken, but somehow whole when he was by your side.

When you pulled away, his eyes searched yours with an intensity that made your heart race. “If I could, I’d stay here forever,” he whispered, his voice deep but soft. “Just the two of us. Nothing else matters.”

"Remus," you called, hesitantly.

He turned his head toward you, his brown eyes shining with that familiar mix of curiosity and patience. "Hm?"

"Do you think people can really change? I mean... not just change on the outside, but on the inside too?" Your question slipped out before you could stop it, and for a moment, you almost regretted saying something so vulnerable.

Remus furrowed his brow, a subtle gesture you had learned to recognize as a sign that he was thinking deeply. "I think so," he replied carefully. "But it’s not easy. Changing means facing parts of yourself you’d rather ignore. And not everyone is willing to do that."

You looked at him, noticing how the moonlight seemed to soften the lines of his face, making him almost ethereal. There was something comforting in the way he spoke, as if he understood things that no one else could.

"I’m asking because..." You paused, the hesitation tightening around your throat. Part of you wanted to pull back, keep what you were about to say hidden, like you always had. But his presence had a way of making you feel safe, as if nothing could hurt you while he was by your side. "Because sometimes, I feel like I’m... not enough. Like I’ll never be good enough for anyone."

His eyes met hers with an intensity that was almost unbearable. "Why do you think that?"

You shrugged, trying to keep a light tone that contradicted the pain in your words. "I don’t know. Maybe because I’ve never been the one people choose. I’m... comfortable, but not memorable."

The silence that followed your words wasn’t empty. It was heavy, filled with something you couldn’t name. Remus squeezed your hand, and when he finally spoke, his voice carried an emotion you hadn’t expected.

"That’s not true," he said, almost in a whisper. "You’re so much more than you think you are. And if other people can’t see that, the problem is theirs, not yours."

The warmth in his words warmed something inside you, something that had long seemed dormant. You looked at him, searching for a clue in his brown eyes that always seemed to be full of secrets. He knew how to say the right things, but there was something in that response—a hesitation, a slight tremor in his voice—as if he carried an invisible weight.

"Do you really think that?" you asked, your voice filled with a vulnerability that was hard to admit.

Remus hesitated, just for a moment. It was such a small gesture that, if you weren’t paying attention, it could’ve gone unnoticed. But you did. The pause was brief, but enough for something inside you, something very small, to stir.

"I do," he finally replied, his voice firm now, as if he wanted to bury any doubt that might have arisen. "You’re incredible. And I want you to know that."

You believed him. There was no way to doubt him when he said things in that deep, conviction-filled tone. So, you let the moment pass, preferring the security of the present to questioning what might have caused his hesitation.

When he leaned in toward you again, pressing his lips to yours, you allowed yourself to believe that this was all that mattered. The kiss was calm, unhurried, but filled with something you couldn’t name. Maybe a silent promise.

The next few days passed like a dream for you. Everything seemed to align in almost a magical way. Remus was always around, with that soft smile and the eyes that seemed to see straight into your soul. He had a way of making even the simplest moments—like studying in the library or walking through the halls of Hogwarts—feel special.

You couldn’t help the smile that appeared whenever you thought of him. He made you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered, like everything around you could fall apart, and yet you’d be safe as long as you were with him.

That afternoon, you were leaving the charms classroom when you heard familiar voices coming from a nearby corridor. The sound of laughter was the first thing that caught your attention, followed by the unmistakable tone of Sirius Black.

"You have to admit, Moony, it was brilliant," Sirius was saying, his voice full of amusement.

"I don’t know if brilliant is the right word," Remus replied, but there was a light tone to his voice, as if he was trying to hide something.

Curious and with a smile on your face, you made your way toward the voices. It was always nice to see Remus with his friends. He seemed so at ease with them, so different from the introspective Remus you knew. And you liked Sirius—he had that easy charm that made you laugh even when you didn’t want to.

But when you got close enough to see them, you stopped. They were facing away from you, meaning they hadn’t noticed your presence. Remus was leaning against a wall, arms crossed, while Sirius gestured animatedly.

"I still can’t believe you pulled it off," Sirius continued, laughing. "You know, of all of us, I thought you’d be the last to take a bet like that."

The smile on your face froze.

Remus sighed, looking uncomfortable. "It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Sirius."

"But it was, and it worked," Sirius insisted. "Thanks to you, Prongs finally got what he wanted. Lily agreed to go out with him. All because you got our friend here to think you were interested."

You couldn’t move. It was as if the ground had disappeared beneath your feet.

"I..." Remus hesitated, and for the first time, his voice sounded heavy. "It’s not that simple, Sirius. She... she trusts me. I didn’t want it to be like this."

"But it was," Sirius repeated, now with less enthusiasm. "And don’t tell me you didn’t know from the start that this was a bet. You agreed, Remus. And now... well, you know it’s not going to last forever."

You wanted to say something. You wanted to shout, cry, demand an explanation. But the words were stuck in your throat. Everything around you seemed to spin. The air was cold, but it felt like you were suffocating.

Remus had come closer to you. He had said the right words, held your hand, kissed you with a tenderness that felt so real. But it was all a lie. All part of a stupid bet.

Without realizing it, you took a step back, and the sound of your movement echoed down the corridor. They both turned immediately, and the expression on Remus’s face when he saw you was enough to break your heart.

"You heard," he whispered, his voice full of something that seemed like regret.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t trust your own voice. All you could do was look at him, your eyes filled with tears you refused to shed there, in front of them. The air felt heavy, almost suffocating, and the pain in your chest was so intense it felt impossible to stay there for another second. So, you turned away, without saying a word, and began to walk, your steps quick and awkward, desperately trying to put distance between you.

"Wait!" Remus’s voice echoed down the corridor, full of urgency.

You didn’t stop. Not for a second. The tears burned in your eyes, threatening to fall, but you blinked furiously, determined not to let him see how much he had hurt you.

"Please, just... listen to me!" Remus insisted, now closer. You could hear the sound of his footsteps, hurried, as he tried to catch up with you.

"Leave me alone, Remus!" Your voice came out louder than you intended, broken by the knot in your throat. But you didn’t care. All you wanted was to disappear, to flee from that nightmare that seemed to be sucking the air from your lungs.

But he didn’t give up. Before you could take another step, you felt his hand grabbing your arm. The touch was firm, but not aggressive, as if he were afraid of hurting you even more.

"Please, listen to me," he pleaded, his voice low now, almost begging.

You turned toward him with a sharp movement, pulling your arm from his touch. "Listen to me?!" Your voice trembled, filled with hurt and disbelief. "What else can you say, Remus? That it was all a bet? That I was just a joke to you and your friends?!"

He shook his head so forcefully that his brown hair fell over his eyes. "It’s not like that, I swear! It wasn’t supposed to be like this..."

"It wasn’t supposed to be like this?!" You took a step back, as if his proximity was too much to bear. "Then tell me, how exactly was it supposed to be, Remus?!"

He opened his mouth, but no words came out. His silence was like a direct blow to your chest. You saw the conflict in his eyes, the pain, the guilt... but also the truth.

"It was real," he finally said, his voice hoarse, almost inaudible. "What I feel for you... it’s real. I know I messed everything up, but I need you to know that."

You laughed, but the sound was empty, almost cruel. "Real? You think that matters now? After everything? You got close to me to help James get a date with Lily, Remus. You used me. How... how can you say that’s real?"

He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. "I know it seems unforgivable, but please, believe me. I never meant to hurt you. I... I don’t even know when I started feeling this for you. But I do. I feel it so much it hurts."

"Well, congratulations," you shot back, your voice heavy with sarcasm and pain. "At least we’re on the same page. Because it hurts, Remus. It hurts so much that I can barely breathe. And you’re the reason for it."

The words came out before you could think, but they were true. He looked at you as if every syllable had been a blade. "I just wanted a chance to explain..."

"There’s nothing to explain," you interrupted, your voice quieter now, almost a whisper. "You’ve already said everything you needed. And I... I was foolish enough to believe in you."

You didn’t wait to see his reaction. Turning, you ran, ignoring his calls behind you. The tears finally fell, a cascade of pain you couldn’t contain any longer. And as you ran, you realized that no matter how fast your feet moved, there was no escaping the feeling of having entrusted your heart to someone who shattered it.

The following days were a blur of pain and emptiness. You felt like you were moving through life as a shadow of yourself, desperately trying to rebuild the walls you had torn down for him. Every brick you laid felt too heavy, as if the hurt and betrayal had drained all your strength.

Avoiding Remus was harder than you’d like. Hogwarts suddenly felt too small, with hallways that always seemed to lead him to you. But you refused to look into his eyes, to give any sign that he still had power over you. It was always the same: turn into another hallway, enter an empty room, or simply lower your head and keep walking.

You felt his gaze on you sometimes. Not insistently, but present. Like a shadow. He didn’t confront you directly, didn’t call your name out loud, but you knew he was there, at a distance, trying to find a moment when you weren’t so broken.

But you weren’t ready. Maybe you never would be.

Remus, on the other hand, seemed more worn out with each passing day. He clung to the routine like a man adrift, trying not to drown in the sea of guilt that consumed him. He knew he had no right to approach you, not after what he had done. But he also knew he couldn’t just leave things as they were.

He tried a few times, hesitantly, to approach you in the hallways. "Please, just a minute..." he had started on one occasion, but the way you ignored him, as if he didn’t exist, was worse than any response.

Other times, he simply watched from afar, waiting for a sign, anything that might indicate that you were willing to listen to him. But nothing came.

He threw himself into his studies, trying to find a distraction, but even that was useless. The words in the books seemed to dance, and he couldn’t focus for more than a few minutes. Every time he closed his eyes, the memory of how it all started haunted him, cruel and relentless.

James had presented the idea casually, almost as a joke. "If you get close to her, Remus, I swear Lily will go out with me. She said she’d only agree when our grumpy friend finally had a boyfriend."

Remus remembered Sirius laughing when he heard the plan, how he had crossed his arms and commented on how impossible it would be to win you over. "She’s not the type to fall for tricks, Prongs."

But James, with that confident smile and unshakable determination, insisted. And Remus, for reasons he didn’t even fully understand at the time, agreed. Maybe it was James’s persistence, or the need to help his friend get what he wanted so badly. Maybe it was curiosity. Or maybe, deep down, he already knew there was something about you that intrigued him.

At first, that was all it was. A simple, almost harmless plan. He would get closer, gain your trust, and then James would have his chance with Lily. But nothing went as he expected.

You were different. From the very beginning, Remus realized there was something about you he couldn’t ignore. The way you spoke, with a calm tone but filled with passion for what mattered to you. The way you laughed, a sound that seemed to light up any room, even though it was rare. The way you looked at him, as if you saw beyond the scars and the calm facade he tried to maintain.

He started with small gestures: sitting next to you in class, starting casual conversations in the hallways. And every time you smiled at him, something inside him melted. He liked being the cause of that smile. He liked hearing you laugh, seeing your face soften when he made some silly comment to ease the tension.

And then came the kiss.

Remus would never forget that moment. He didn’t know exactly how it happened—maybe it was the way you looked at him that afternoon, the sun setting and bathing your face in golden tones, or maybe it was the way your soft laugh filled the silence between you. But he knew he couldn’t resist anymore.

When your lips met his, it was as if the world had stopped. There was no bet, no guilt, nothing but you. He felt his hand tremble slightly as it touched your face, but when you returned the kiss, when your fingers found their way into his hair, Remus knew that was the best moment of his life.

And that was why he couldn’t confess.

Every time he thought about telling you the truth, the fear paralyzed him. He knew he had started it all for the wrong reasons, that he had lied to you, but now... now you were the most important thing to him. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t lose you.

But the weight of the guilt was unbearable. Every smile you gave him, he felt the knot tightening in his throat. Every intimate moment, he hated himself a little more. He wanted to believe that what you had was strong enough to survive the truth, but a part of him knew that the revelation would destroy everything.

And now, as he walked through the empty hallways of Hogwarts, trying not to think about the sound of your broken voice, Remus knew he had made the wrong choice. He should have been honest. He should have told you everything before it was too late.

But he didn’t. And now, he didn’t know how to fix what he had broken.

The reunion happened days later, at the end of a quiet hallway near the library. You had gone there to find a moment of peace, away from curious glances and whispers that seemed to follow you wherever you went. But, as if the universe insisted on testing your strength, he was there.

Remus was leaning against the wall, his face marked by exhaustion, his brown eyes fixed on the floor as if carrying the weight of the world. When he heard your footsteps, he lifted his gaze, and the air seemed to vanish from the space.

"I... I didn't know if I should be here," he started, his voice rough, as if he had rehearsed those words a million times and still didn’t know how to say them. "But I needed to see you."

"Why?" Your voice was cold, distant, but inside, everything was in ruins. "What more could you possibly say, Remus? What’s left to explain?"

He took a step towards you, but stopped when he saw the way you instinctively stepped back. The pain on his face was almost tangible, but it was nothing compared to what you felt.

"I know I messed everything up," he said, his voice breaking. "And I know it's selfish of me to want to talk to you after everything. But I can’t... I can’t just let you go without trying, without telling you how much you mean to me."

"Mean to you?" You repeated, laughing without humor. "Remus, I was a bet. I was just a means to an end. And now you want to tell me I mean something?"

He shook his head, his eyes pleading for understanding. "It wasn’t like that... it’s not like that. Yes, in the beginning, it was because of James. But from the moment I truly got to know you, everything changed. You changed everything. I know this doesn’t erase what I did, but... I love you."

"Don’t say that," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Don’t make this harder than it already is."

"But it’s true!" He took another step, and this time you didn’t back away, even though you wanted to. "I love you. I loved you from the moment I realized you were different from anyone I’ve ever met. From the moment you let me into your life, even when I didn’t deserve it."

You stared at him, your heart racing, and the pain you had tried to suppress overflowed. "And that’s what makes it worse, Remus. Because, despite everything, despite the lie, despite the betrayal..." Your voice faltered, but you gathered all the courage you still had to say the words you feared the most. "I still love you."

The silence that followed was deafening. Remus seemed to freeze, his eyes wide as he absorbed your words.

"You have no idea how much this hurts," you continued, your voice barely a whisper. "I love you, Remus. And that’s what’s destroying me, because I know I can’t trust you. I know that every time I look at you, I’ll remember that it all started with a lie. And I don’t know how to deal with that."

"I didn’t want to hurt you," he said, his voice filled with desperation. "If I could go back in time, if I could change anything, it would be this. I never would have been part of that bet. I would have gotten to know you for you, not because of James’s stupid plan."

You laughed, but it was an empty sound, devoid of joy. "That doesn’t change anything. You made a choice, Remus. And now we both have to live with the consequences."

He approached slowly, as if every step was a silent plea. "Then tell me what I can do. How can I fix this? Because I can’t imagine my life without you."

"There’s no fixing it." Your voice was firm, even as your heart seemed to shatter. "Some things, Remus, can’t be repaired. Some things just break, and all we can do is accept it."

For a moment, you stood in silence, the world around you fading as you looked at him, trying to memorize that moment. Because you knew it would be the last.

"I wish things were different," you finally said, your voice so low you could barely hear it. "But they’re not. Please, just... go away."

His gaze shattered, and for a moment, he looked as if he was about to say something more. But then he simply nodded, the heavy silence settling between you before he turned away, his footsteps echoing through the empty hallway.

You waited until he disappeared before letting the first sob escape, as painful as the feeling inside you.

#remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #no use of y/n #remus j lupin #remus john lupin fanfiction #remus john lupin #remus x reader #remus x you #remus x y/n #writers on tumblr #ao3 writer #fanfiction #angst #angst ending #writing #marauders era

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zevrra · 2 days ago

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this drabble is inspired by this ask!! (viktor vers. coming soon!)

[mdní, 18(+), college au, ns//fw, jayce x gn!reader, suggestive penëträtion]

studying with jayce was usually very productive. the two of you worked very well together, especially when it came to solving problems when the other couldn’t figure it out. you two were so in tune sometimes so when both of you got stuck on an equation, neither of you could solve, you decided to entertain yourselves with something far more…physical.

which is how you ended up on your hands and knees, face dangerously close to being squished into the bed as jayce fucks you from behind. one of his hands has a tight grip on your hip for stability as he dives rapidly into you. he places kisses along your spine in time with his well placed thrusts. “feel so good.” he’d whisper between each kiss that he places; chuckling at how you groan and tighten around him at his words.

he straightens up then, his hips faltering for a single moment; and you just assume he’s repositioning himself…that is until you feel something scratch lightly across your back. your brows furrow, maybe you just imagined it, but no there it is again…and it continues as jayce slowly stops moving.

no way. was he doing what you thought he was doing? no…not when…really?

“jayce talis are you solving that damn equation on my back right now?”

jayce completely comes to a stop just as the feathering on your back also stops. you hear jayce slightly laugh, nervously, while his grip loosens against your hip. “i’m sorry! i just solved it in my head suddenly and, and i had to write it down before i forgot it!” he stammers, apologizing for his moments distraction, before tossing the pen off the bed in an attempt to get rid of the evidence.

you sigh, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing. he was so stupid and smart all at the same time and god you loved and hated him for it. but laughing would be saved for after you got to finish this. “jayce…take a picture, quickly, and then please forget about everything else that doesn’t involve you fucking me.” you hum in response. and you didn’t even need to turn around to know that jayce’s face was most likely bright red at being caught red handed. the thought makes you shake your head as he quickly scrambles for a picture before returning back to the moment you two were sharing.

“sorry…” jayce apologizes, sounding like a kicked puppy. he places an apologetic kiss against your shoulder before trailing them back down to your spine.

you finally laugh, softly, at his words. of course the brilliant man that jayce was; would think about equations while his dick was hard. so ridiculous but it made you enjoy this even more somehow. “don’t worry. you’re too cute to be mad at anyway. just move those hips again, pretty boy.”

and like a good boy, jayce does as he is told. saving the problem solving for later.

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willyoubemycherryy · 2 days ago

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𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓸 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓝𝓮𝔀 𝓨𝓮𝓪𝓻 (𝓕. 𝓣𝓲𝓰𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓪𝓻)

…I have no words for this or myself. Enjoy.

Contains (ooh boy): kissing and I mean nasty kissing, spanking, teasing, oral f receiving, Fiyero sucks you off the bone and is unhinged about it, multiple rounds, multiple 0rgasms, fatcxck! Fiyero, stomach bulge, creaming and squirting, dacriphylia, disgusting kissing like seriously, more crying, unprotected and minimally provoked railing, ZERO plot, some fluff I think😭

‎ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ.

So much for starting off the new year in a wholesome way….

“Come now, princess. We won’t have a happy new year if you don’t say it back”, Fiyero teases you. Words dripping in false sweetened concern against your lips that are dropped open in pleasure; dipping his head to tongue along the roof of your mouth, pace unrelenting in the way his cock slams into your wet heat.

You’d say it back if you could.

Having been at this for some time since you’d woken Fiyero up to insist he kiss you before midnight or else you two wouldn’t be together in the New Year. Fiyero, sweet as ever, was more than willing to indulge you but things swiftly got out of control when after kissing you, he swirled his tongue around your mouth like he was trying to commit your taste to memory before pulling away, smacking his lips.

Your body lights up with that heavy warmed molasses feeling as Fiyero settles on top of you, looking down into your eyes as he suggests:

“How about a double kiss? You know, so we’ll definitely be together in the new year.” Huh? You’d never heard of that and as Fiyero keeps distracting you, big warm hands caressing all over your body leaving scorching shivers in their wake. His hands so heavy with intent that it takes you a minute before you ask.

“What’s a double kiss?”

Aww. You really are such a treat. Fiyero quirks an eyebrow as he coos at you. Nosing along your neck until he reaches your ear. He knows exactly what a double kiss is and he can’t wait to show you, blood humming through his body at the thought of your sweet, soft self under his tongue as he ‘kisses’ you. Fiyero drags his hands down lower, slowly feeling the material of your pretty nightie under his palms before settling them on your thighs; making you gasp with a firm squeeze- when he whispers in your ear through the tension that now coats the room.

“Let me show you? They’re very sweet, you’ll love it, pet.” Oh? You try to ignore the quickening of your heart as you nod at him.

“O-okay..” You sounded so cute and nervous that Fiyero’s chest swelled with affection, kissing wetly down your body, moving your sleepwear up to suckle at all the newly exposed skin that was so much warmer the lower he got.

Fiyero tries to take a deep breath, calm down a little but it’s of little use when all he can smell and feel is you. His position quickly gave you the idea of what a double kiss was and you shiver at the thought. Sensing your nerves, Fiyero takes your hands in his- licking slowly down your bellybutton to the top of your cunt then looking up to quickly reassure you even as his mouth waters in anticipation of your wetness.

“Don’t worry princess, I’ll go easy.”

About 15 minutes and 2 orgasms later, he in fact did not go easy on her. The second he opened your legs and saw your fat lips shining under a heavy gloss of your juices, he lost it. Shoving his face into you as he lapped into your hole like a dog. Thick, heavy licks through your folds, suckling messily at your clit.

The sudden onslaught of sharp pleasure made you cry out, hands flying to pull at his hair, needing to get a break from the intensity but your moans of “not so hard” fell on deaf ears and the second time you pulled his hair, Fiyero’s entire mouth was over your pussy when he moaned, vibrating your soaking pussy in the process, your mouth dropping open in a silent scream, thighs clamping shut as you cum all over his face.

Fiyero’s eyes flutter as the taste of your squirt hits his tongue, feeling almost drunk and he hums in satisfaction. Lips moving as he makes out with your cunny, fat and hard in his pants as he presses his tongue in harder strokes against you. Shivers wrack up your spine from overstimulation but he doesn’t pay it any mind- flipping you on your stomach while you’re still breathless, positioning you in a low arch. Hot hands rub up the sides of your thighs, his lips kissing down the back of each one and you flush from the exposure, calling his name in uncertainty.

“Fiyero?”

He has to physically tear his eyes away from the sight. The new angle letting him see everything from the creaminess of your still spasming hole to the soft pucker of your other whole and he’s aching to have his tongue in you again.

“Mmm, yeah lovely?”

“What’re doin’?” You’re clearly still dazed from how fast and hard you came but it’s fine. He’s got you.

“Kissing you. So we’ll be together in the new year. S’that alright darling?” He purrs out and you visibly melt even as you feel yourself getting a bit of an attitude. He was talking to you like that on purpose. But still, you nod anway.

“Yeah, that’s alright”.

No sooner than the words left your mouth, his was on you again. Tonguing your hole before flicking the nub repeatedly in lavish strokes. You tried to muffle yourself by burying your head in the pillows but a sharp smack that echoed in time with the stinging burn that came after had your raising your head, keening dizzily when you were rewarded with three fingers rubbing against that warm bundle of nerves inside you and a muffled “good girl” before lips wrapped around your clit, hot tongue grinding against the underside and you were cumming so hard you couldn’t hear- wailing breathlessly.

You fall onto your stomach, so busy trying to catch your breath before Fiyero kills you that when he maneuvers you to laying on your back, it takes about five minutes and your vision clearing to realize it.

Fiyero peppers kisses all over your face and neck as he looks fondly at the state he’s put you in, needing to have you. Licking his lips, he can still taste you and it makes the nerves beneath his skin simmer. Those whining sobs that fell from your lips at when you came all over him are his favorite and he wishes to make you sound that way all the time. His pretty little thing, feeling so good you don’t know what to do with yourself…

Your eyes are glued to the veins on his thick forearms as he undresses, gasping hotly when he drags you down the bed by your ankles, resting them on his shoulders, kissing the inside of your knee as he asks,

“Ready to be more together? In the New Year?” The sight of his dimples showing through his dangerous little smirk let you know that he planned on you two being together either way but you nod, smiling back.

“Absolutely. Wanna be full of you not just in this new year, but all of them.” Fiyero groans at the innuendo, sliding himself through your folds and coating himself in your juices before slamming into the hilt, eyes locked on your face.

“You will, see? Happy New Year’s baby.”

Which led you to now;- with him fucking you well into after midnight, so wet that it leaks down the front of his thighs. Hips rolling into you so deep, you feel the pressure of it on the inside of your bellybutton as Fiyero makes you cry for it.

You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d woken all of Oz with the very happy New Year you’re having, goosebumps rising over your skin as Fiyero licks and bites at your puffy nipples, hips moving relentlessly as he slams his fat cock into you- battering that gooey spot inside you. You couldn’t remember how many times you’ve cum and Fiyero clearly didn’t care, ruining you with how good he was fucking you, moving his mouth off your chest to capture your lips in a filthy kiss, intertwining his tongue with yours before sucking it into his mouth. It was so hot you feared you’d evaporate, actively concentrating on your form so you don’t float away.

Breaking apart as you moan in unison, Fiyero lazily raises an eyebrow as he groans out in your face,

“You have to say it back, sweet thing. Or else it won’t work.” The mock concern shouldn’t be hot because you’re not a whore (for him you are) but it was your superstition that started this. As soon as you open your mouth to say it back, there’s a warm palm and pressure as Fiyero presses down on the outline of his cock through your tummy and you scream- really feeling him now.

Fiyero’s hips stutter at the way you seal tighten, spasming walls threatening to milk him dry as you cry prettily, biting his lip at how hard you’re making it for him not to cum. Normally he’d let you off the hook but teasing you is always fun so pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead, he fucks into you a bit slower but harder, making you feel every inch. The result is worth it. The loud smacks where you connected sound even wetter and Fiyero swears as he looks down, seeing sloppy white rings around the thick base of his cock as it stretched you out.

You were creaming.

Creaming hard too, white splashing out of you, flecking onto his lower stomach, tears budding in your eyes as you wail brokenly- still trying to form words but can’t. Just looking at you does it, the dark hickies scattered around your chest, soft skin wet with sweat and orgasm as you creamed his cock had him shooting ropes deep into you, head thrown back moaning in bliss.

He grinds, humping into you until the coil in his stomach is completely gone, leaving a warm buzz from the back of his skull and down. Breathing for a minute he looks down to check on you but you’re already falling asleep. Smiling, he shakes you gently, laughing at the irritated look you shoot him in your exhaustion.

“My deepest apologies in bothering you but I must vacate your premises so we can clean up.” He whispers against your cheek as he kisses it. You simply wind your arms over his back in a hug before snuggling into him, eyes still shut as you mumble sleepily.

“Stay put, we can do that later…still gotta stay together.” His chest warms at how content you are with him and he settles on you again, cock softening inside you.

“Ah, right. For the New Year?”

“Mmhm”, and he can hear you roll your eyes before whispering back.

“Goodnight angel.”

“Goodnight pretty pain in my ass.”

He huffs out a laugh but closes his eyes as he listens to your heartbeat, smiling.

Every year is good so long as it has you.

#wicked #wicked fiyero #fiyero tigelaar x reader #fiyero x reader #fiyero tigelaar #Fiyero #fiyero smut #fiyero tigelaar smut

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