#( other people's generated concoctions )

[whoreforsexymen]

The VIP Booth | Vander Smut Oneshot 🫗🤎

(Gif creds: me <3)

Pairings: Husband!Vander x Wife!Reader

Pronouns: Fem!Pronouns

Rating: NSFW, 18+, MDNI !! You WILL be blocked! 🤺

Word Count: 3.1k (whoops. got carried away with storybuilding)

Tags: Cunnilingus, Fingering, Face Fucking, Finger Sucking, Hair Pulling, Semi-Public Sexual Acts, Established Relationship, etc.

Summary: You coax your husband into eating you out in the only private area The Last Drop has to offer.

Notes: AAAA!! Idk if this idea is ANY GOOD but it came to me in a moment of delusion. The last bit was probably a little rushed, too. SORRYYYY. I’ll make it up to yall later.

Also, tell me I’m wrong when I say that Vander will go to any length to eat some pussy. Do it, cowards. I dare you. YOU KNOW JUST AS WELL AS I DO THAT THIS MAN WOULD HAPPILY DIE WITH HIS FACE IN BETWEEN A PAIR OF THIGHS.

Asks/Request fics are coming soon, as well as a few more special treats for y’all!! Enjoy, my lovelies, & stay tuned. 🤍

(I can see you, minors!! Get outta here 🤺🤺. BACK! BACK, I SAY!)

Inside the walls of The Last Drop, there was one booth unlike any other—a private, exclusive spot tucked away behind the bustling central room. It was a booth reserved for those willing to pay for top-tier service, offering a secluded escape from the usual chaos of the bar’s environment. But as co-owner of The Last Drop—and wife to the main owner—you didn’t need to fork out any cash to reserve it. Especially not on a night like this. No—tonight, luck was on your side. The booth had gone unclaimed by any paying customer.

Truthfully, the undeniably significant feature were its curtains. The enormous maroon tapestries that enveloped the entrance ensured complete privacy, shielding it from prying eyes. After all, that’s what made it the VIP booth—an oasis of solitude amidst the drunken chaos of the crowd.

With the booth left unreserved, its privacy ensuring a rare moment of seclusion, and the crowd blissfully distracted by their own drunken revelry, the opportunity was simply too perfect to pass up. You had concocted a devilish plan—one that had been simmering in your mind all night. It wasn’t just about messing with your husband—it was about messing around with him.

Your overwhelming desire for your husband was impossible to ignore on any given day, but tonight, it seemed even more intense—an insatiable hunger that gnawed at you, its cause elusive and beyond your comprehension. Whatever the reason, it gripped you with a force you couldn't obstruct, leaving you restless and consumed by pure unadulterated lust.

This, naturally, allowed your plan to unfold effortlessly, as if guided by an invisible hand, bringing it closer to fruition.

To carry out your devious plan, you had carefully cultivated the trust of one of the few individuals who worked for you and Vander. They weren’t exactly employees in the traditional sense, but rather a handful of people you kept on the fringes, offering a few coins in exchange for their occasional assistance. Their loyalty was fleeting, bought with small tokens, but it was enough to serve your purpose. Especially in a moment such as this. A seemingly crucial one—at that.

You kept things vague, framing your request as though it were purely concerning a business discussion needing to be had. You asked your employee to discreetly inform your husband that someone was calling him from behind the velvet curtains of the VIP booth. You also made it clear that the employee should mirror your discretion, avoiding any mention of your name or your connection to him.

The employee appeared curious, even somewhat uneasy, at first. That was, however, prior to you slipping a generous cash bonus their way, eliciting their cooperation without room for protest.

"Go on, please," you plead with your unsuspecting employee, your voice laced with a blend of urgency and excitement. "But remember—don’t tell him it’s me."

As the employee slips into the bustling crowd, you struggle to contain the surge of excitement building within you, all while fighting to maintain a sultry—yet composed, demeanor. You adjust your hair, breasts, and clothing, making subtle moves to enhance your allure and mystery. Every gesture is deliberate, designed to keep you as collected and captivating as possible, cultivating an air of intrigue about you as you desperately await the arrival of your beloved husband.

They fulfilled your agreement as you waited—approaching their boss and informing him that someone had entered the VIP booth, insisting on speaking with him directly.

"VIP booth? Thought nobody booked it tonight," Vander remarks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest as he takes a moment to process the information. Normally, you were the one who handled the VIP booth, and he’d have gladly passed this task off to you—if the employee hadn’t mentioned that the VIP “customer” specifically requested Vander. Looks like he’d have to put on a more hospitable facade and give them what they wanted.

If only he knew just what this "customer" truly wanted from him.

After a series of grunts, groans, and huffs, Vander finally made his way to the booth. After forcing a welcoming smile onto his face, he slowly pushed aside the curtains.

"Sorry for the wait. You wanted to speak to the owner—"

His voice faltered, trailing off faster than it had taken him to summon the words.

You feel your own response threaten to catch in your throat, but you won’t cave. You abandon your nerves.

"Why yes, I did. Although..." you drawl, your tone laced with playful mischief, "...'speak' isn’t exactly at the top of the list of things I want to do to the owner."

Your sultry gaze locks onto his, deliciously teasing. Vander, already an imposing figure, looms even larger from your vantage point in the booth. Seated as you are, you find yourself craning your neck significantly just to meet his eyes, the angle only amplifying his commanding presence.

A slew of unidentifiable emotions cross his face in a mere flash before fading into a singularly—equally mischievous to yours—-expression.

“Well. Seein’ as how you are the VIP patron of the night, how can I oblige you?” He queries, his eyebrow raising once more.

Your heart stutters beneath your breast as his expression shifts, his eyes darkening with a lust-filled intensity that sends a shiver through you. The chemistry between you two never failing to baffle you.

"...Serve me," you murmur, your voice soft yet determined to keep the air thick with seduction.

"And what, if I may be so bold to ask, can I serve you with?" he inquires, his voice dipping low, the provocative edge in his gaze unwavering.

"Your body." you quip, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves stirring in your gut, desperate to make it quiver.

Vander eyes you carefully for a moment, savoring the way your confidence wavers. He deliberately toys with the knowledge of how easily he can unsettle you, his gaze lingering as if relishing every flicker of hesitation you try to hide. A smirk slowly spreads across his mouth—the very one you ached for—his eyes glinting with an all-knowing, deviously sexy twinge. He nods softly, his hand rising to casually caress his beard as he watches you, the tension thick in the air.

“Mmhmm. I see," he murmurs, his tone laced with teasing amusement. "Who am I, if not a man willing to care for his loyal customers?" He phrases simply, the words carrying a heavy, unspoken promise before he moves, gracefully lowering himself to his knees across from you. There’s a moment of silence, the air thick with anticipation, before he slowly begins to push himself beneath the table that had kept you both apart.

You don’t dare look beneath the table, almost afraid to meet his gaze at this moment, unsure of what you might see on his face now that the situation has shifted. The tension coils tighter, each passing second amplifying the anticipation that overwhelmed your senses.

You practically jump at the brush of his shoulders against your shins as he crawls to them, the rush of anticipation making every nerve in your body jolt. The aching desperation pulling through you draws attention to your core as you feel his strong hands gently caress your legs, the heat of his touch settling on your knees, sending a shiver through you. The way your teeth begin to tug at your bottom lip seemed like the only way you could physically process your eagerness.

Vander remains silent, his hands moving deliberately in opposite directions, the gesture designed to spread your legs—yet he did so with enough force to split you down the middle if he hadn’t been careful enough. It isn’t until he successfully parts them that he speaks again.

“No bottoms? My. What a dirty girl you are, my dear customer. What if someone else had walked in here, hmm? Did you plan on flashing your bits to any bloke who popped his head in?” He teases, practically groaning some of his words, the guttural tone an unintentional yet instinctual reaction to the sight of you so bare—-so clearly prepared for whatever scenario it was you anticipated happening in this little corner of the establishment.

It was obvious to your husband, from the way you were reacting, that the possibility of him crawling under the table to bury his face between your thighs hadn’t even crossed your mind. The surprise and hesitation in your twitches and subtle movements told him everything he needed to know.

The distant, familiar chatter of real customers beyond the thin barrier tightened the knot in your stomach, throwing you into the reality of the moment. It became an unrelenting presence, grounding you in the tension that hung in the air. Meanwhile, the hot, damp breath of your husband seethed against the cold slickness seeping from your cunt, a stark contrast that deepened the unease coursing through you.

A shiver ran up your spine, your body trembling as nervous spasms raked through your bones when he edged even closer—his hair grazing your skin in that familiar way you knew so well. It wasn’t uncommon for your husband to spend most of his time down here, yet no matter how often it happened, the anxiety it stirred within you never waned.

You had an even harder time controlling how your body writhed as you felt the warmth of his tongue flush itself against your sopping heat. Your nails pressed into the soft wood of the table, digging in as you braced yourself, your body jerking. The spasms faltered for a moment, your body going rigid once he started violently lapping his tongue against your aching clit. The abrasing way his beard rubbed against the skin of your thighs sent you into a spiral.

You had expected him to fuck you directly on the table, to take you in the way you were used to—but instead, he toyed with you from beneath it, the unanticipated choice leaving you bewildered. You had been aching for what felt like ages, the desperation almost unbearable. It was a struggle to keep your mouth from parting—your head tilting back, eyes closing as your husband began to ease the tension that had gripped you for so long.

All you wanted was to whimper, to cry out for him, but you couldn’t—not with the patrons so close, just beyond the curtains. If he had only fucked you as you’d expected, he would’ve easily pressed a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet, as he had in similar situations before. But this time, you knew he had chosen this path deliberately, testing whether you could hold your composure.

It was his unspoken way of making you atone for the ploy you used to get him here. He was a patient lover, understanding that even though you had pulled him away from his work—which he didn’t mind as much as he let on—you were just too eager to be patient. Always attuned to your needs, he was more than willing to satisfy the cravings of his most cherished wife, finding joy in fulfilling your desires—no matter the time or place. The absence of his familiar presence behind the bar, and the slight potential for upsetting customers, felt like a small price to pay in exchange for the chance to fully indulge in you. To unravel and claim you in ways only he could.

His tongue was relentless. He sloppily sucked and licked at your needy clit, his nose rubbing against the mound of flesh above as he devoured you. His hands were as equally hungry as his mouth, and in need of something to grab. He manhandles your legs, draping them roughly over his shoulders, his fingers gripping at your plush thighs as he curls his arms around them. In doing so, he pulled you closer, your back slipping against the booth as he guided you down, drawing you nearer to him with a purposeful force. His cock was begging to be set free from its cloth prison as he sunk his tongue deep into the void of your cunt. The rhythmic, wet sounds became a melody more captivating than any song he'd ever heard, especially when paired with the soft mewls of you struggling to stay collected—and most importantly—silent.

You can both hear and feel his laugh against you, a deep, low chuckle that carries a mix of arousal and amusement, vibrating through you with every huff. He found the way he could make you squirm incredibly sexy, the reaction sparking a deep sense of pride within him. There was something about the ease with which he could unsettle you that thrilled him, and he took great satisfaction in knowing how little effort it took. He knew all too well that it only took something as simple as a certain look to have you coming undone—and right now, he was determined to make you come undone. All over his tongue.

Vander knows just how wild his fingers can make you on their own— yet especially so when paired with the mastery of his expertly quick and thoughtful tongue.

He wasted no time in combining the two, intent on making you crack under the pressure. While Vander didn’t particularly want to be caught by patrons, either—or, for that matter, by one of your employees—his desire to make you scream was always his top priority.

He grips your thighs with more gusto than before, continuing to pull them further apart in hopes of expanding his ‘workspace’. He releases one of them, the fingers of that hand moving to replace the tongue that was working its familiar magic inside you. He doesn’t give you so much as a single moment to collect your thoughts as he makes the exchange, effortlessly ramming and curling two up into your cunt as his tongue continues its prior attack on your clit.

You swore you were seeing stars behind your eyelids, your grip on the table faltering just like your efforts to stay in control. You couldn't even attempt to cover your mouth, not with the relentless—yet unintentional—way your hands found their way under the table, tangling in his hair and gripping with enough force to pull some strands loose.

You greedily buck your hips down to meet the thrusting of his digits, pulling his head as far into your cunt as possible. He doesn’t complain. He never would. Maybe it was his own type of preferred masochism, but he’d consider suffocating and perishing in between your legs in this way, a noble death.

Your toes ache from the force with which you’re curling them, your legs clutching and winding around his shoulders and neck like a python.

By now, you had abandoned all caution, hope, and effort to moan quietly. You were practically screaming over the deliciously knowing way he prodded his thick fingers into your cunt. He had long forgotten to move them in and out. He knew exactly what spot drove you mad, and he made his most conscious effort to curl them into it as rapidly and frequently as possible.

As much as Vander adored your cries, they were truly becoming far too loud. He really didn’t want any curious folks to come wandering in to spoil the moment when you were so close to your inevitable peak. He has no choice but to silence you. With the hand that remained on your other thigh, he removed it from its resting place, reaching up from beneath the table as he gazes up at you. With a smirk against your cunt, and his eyes studying how your head was still thrown back against the booth, eyes shut tighter than a steel trap—-he shoves two of his free fingers into your mouth. Your eyes shoot open. You look down at him, earning a wink from your husband as he smirks harder against your cunt. The eye contact was filthy, in the most erotic way possible. It always made you feel slightly awkward, in an oddly arousing way, when you made such a type of contact with him in the heat of a moment like this.

You willingly sucked on his fingers, now understanding the purpose for his actions after a thoughtful moment. He groans against your cunt, luckily the sound being muffled by how much his mouth was buried into it. Your tongue swirls itself rapaciously around the digits, drool falling from your mouth as you did so. Vander simply can’t tear his eyes away from such a sight. He groans more as you lower your own gaze, your expression deadly with seduction. He was almost pissy that both of his hands were occupied at the moment. He was anxious to palm at his cock, desperate to find friction of his own now.

His tongue and lips were still working their relentless job on your clit, suckling every few seconds amidst the slurping. The way his facial hair brushes against it every now and then almost sends you into hysterics—bordering on a full blown frenzy.

Your legs are quaking, twitching and spasming with every harsh lick to your clit. It was so sensitive, you couldn’t help how it shocked your nerves, causing them all to fire simultaneously. Electricity burned in your veins, desperate to chase your orgasm as it made your hips flick against his mouth faster than he could lap at you.

Your orgasm burrowed itself into the pit of your stomach, commanding you to follow it down to your cunt.

It didn’t take much longer for you to keel over the edge of your impending climax. It burst through you, your legs clamping shut around his face—a move which Vander was used to by now—-hips mindlessly gyrating against his face as you brutally cum around his fingers. Vander can feel your walls clenching and relaxing back to back with each additional thrust he gave, your voice begging to slip past his fingers as you come undone. He thought you had been dripping wet at the start of this—but he had been sorely mistaken. Your arousal was seeping out of you despite his fingers plugging you up.

“Attagirl..” He whispers against you, giving your clit a few final licks before reluctantly pulling away. The grip on his hair finally loosened as your body went almost completely limp. Your breathing came in rapid, shallow gasps, just as desperate as Vander, himself, now was. His cock was so hard, it felt like it was being choked by his trousers. But he had the patience of a saint. He could wait as long as needed for you to collect yourself once again.

“So, was the service to your liking?” he asks, his tone teasing—and entirely rhetorical—as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. The fingers that had been in your mouth slide free as he takes a moment to compose himself.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles, clearly amused by how speechless you’ve become.

“Just don’t forget to tip your server..” He teases, alluding to the painfully obvious fact, that this situation is far from over.

[yvvxs]

Quality Time...

↪ ft. argenti. aventurine. blade. boothill. caelus. dan heng & imbibitor lunae. dr ratio. gallagher. gepard. jing yuan. luka. luocha. sampo. sunday. welt.

Cleaning Argenti's ship with him, getting the dust out of the finer details alongside him. It would be a hassle usually, but it was much better when he was with you. You who were like an Emanator of Beauty to him, he could never get sick of you, or your presence.

Sitting beside Aventurine in the casino as he wins his 54th game of Blackjack that night. His arm wrapped around your waist, smiling and having fun together as you watch the endless riches flow into his bank account.

Going on a late night stroll with Blade. The city was busy and bustling, but that wasn't going to bother either of you. Just the two of you, no script to follow. No guards to seize him, he's in disguise anyways. No one will notice him through his... Sunglasses and mask. It'll work.. Neither are his companions or mara there to annoy him. Not now, as you enjoy each others' presence.

Running through the ships of the IPC with Boothill. The men shooting at the both of you. He has your back, so he won't let you get injured by some bullets. He even has time to taunt them with some famous dance moves as the two of you evade their attacks.

Digging through trash cans together with Caelus. He could care less about the crowds of people watching this. He was enjoying it, giving you little small trinkets he thinks you'd like. A toy that someone threw away, a bouquet from a rejected man.. A golden trash bag? Well, it's the thought that counts, right? It was cute just watching him dig through the bins to find something for you.

Staying up and updating the data bank with Dan Heng. The faint sound of machinery and typing the only sounds in the room. Other than the sound of pen on paper from when he writes something down. Alternatively, laying beside Imbibitor Lunae in his supposed bed. But it was so much comfier, especially when you were wrapped in the arms, and tail, of your boyfriend.

Reading a book with Dr. Ratio at the local library. A small treat for the both of you as he had just finished his lecture. Refreshing his own mind with both the intelligent writings, and your presence. At least he didn't have to deal with any idiots at the moment.

Learning to brew up some nice drinks with Gallagher. He shares his favorite brew with you, and you share your own concoction with him. Clinking your glasses together in a toast, drinking one anothers' mix of flavors.

Adopting some new plants with Gepard. Trying to get a nice flower to take care of together. Placing it in a nice flowerbed with some ferilizer, and watering them thoroughly. You'll have to teach him some tips and tricks to gardening. Or maybe you're learning alongside him too. Either way, it'll be fun taking care of a little plant baby together, don't you think?

Napping with General Jing Yuan at work. Sneakily giving him an excuse to slack off for a bit. They wouldn't dare disturb your slumber, would they? How cruel of them if they tried. Inhaling your scent as he buries his head into the crook of your neck. Drifting further into sleep in the comfort of your arms.

Watching Luka as he trains for his next match at the Fight Club. A moment just for the two of you to spend together. You motivating him to keep going and get stronger. To win even more battles. He couldn't do it without you.

Walking around the different stalls the Luofu offered with Luocha. Buying a few things from some merchants just for you. Away from any prying eyes, in a world made for just the two of you.

Carrying a few supplies for Natasha's clinic with Sampo. Being able to help the Underworld with him being an enjoyable task. Especially with him, who wouldn't be entertained by his presence? You knew you definitely were.

Having afternoon tea with Sunday. Away from the responsibilities of being the head of the Oak Family. Just a small quiet moment between the you and the halovian. Some sugar cookies going along with the drinks. He can't help but feel much better with you.

Sitting in the Astral Express carriage with Welt. Watching the stars fly by, the meteors go past the windows. Maybe looking up at the light shaped like a whale, reaching out for it while you lay your head on his lap. It was nice spending mundane moments with him, alongside the more fun and action-filed ones.

↪ I think having some quality time with them is nice :)

Masterlist || Do not repost nor feed to AI. Reblogs & Comments are much appreciated.

[aventurineswife]

In keeping with Amphoreus’s classical mythology vibes: can we get headcanons for Dan Heng, Phainon, and Castorice with a sorcerer/sorceress!Reader? Like, in general, Reader is a reasonable person, incredibly pleasant and hospitable, even — but if someone was dumb enough to seriously piss them off, Reader might just turn them into a guinea pig or a sprig of mint (like that one time some snobby researcher from the Garden of Life insulted them, and got turned into a dandelion for it). 💀

The Art of Restraint

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Castorice x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Sorcerer!Reader, Humor, Magic/Spellcasting, Fluff, Angst (light), Power Dynamics, Camaraderie, Lighthearted Revenge.

Warnings: Mild Violence (Transforming people into inanimate objects or plants, though it’s more comedic than harmful), Mild Dark Humor, Mentions of Death, Mild Mentions of Abuse/Insulting Behavior, Mild Language, Complex Power Dynamics.

Dan Heng is cautious by nature, and when he first meets you, he keeps a respectful distance. He’s heard stories of sorcerers and their power, and while he’s not afraid, he’s certainly wary. But after traveling with you for some time, he realizes you’re one of the most level-headed and kind people he’s ever met.

He admires your intellect and meticulous approach to magic. You remind him of a scholar more than a mystic—studious, analytical, and measured. He often listens in quiet fascination when you talk about the ancient laws of sorcery, the flow of energies, or the myths behind different spells.

He once made an offhand comment about disliking mint tea, and you, ever the playful one, asked if he had some deep-seated trauma involving an unfortunate sorcerer’s wrath. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t answer, which only made you more curious.

The first time he saw you turn someone into a plant, he nearly dropped his spear. Some overly arrogant researcher from the Garden of Life had been sneering at you, calling your magic "a parlor trick compared to true botanical science." With a serene smile, you flicked your fingers—and poof, he was a dandelion.

Dan Heng sighed. "Was that really necessary?" he asked, though there was no real judgment in his tone.

"He’ll turn back in a few hours," you assured him. "And maybe he’ll be a little more polite next time."

Over time, Dan Heng grows to trust you deeply. He appreciates your sense of justice—you never use your powers recklessly, only when absolutely necessary (or when someone’s behavior is so insufferable that even he considers it justified).

If you ever tease him about turning him into a dragon/reptile so he can match his past self, he just gives you a flat look. You swear you see the corner of his mouth twitch.

He’s not much for words, but he does find subtle ways to express his affection—bringing you rare books on ancient magical traditions, making sure you have the finest quality ink and parchment for your spellwork, and standing silently by your side whenever you need backup.

If he ever did get truly angry at someone for harming you, he wouldn’t hesitate to strike. But he’s also completely at peace knowing that, if it came down to it, you could handle things yourself… possibly by turning the threat into a rather unfortunate beetle.

Phainon is delighted to meet you. He has nothing but admiration for sorcerers and scholars, and he finds your magic incredibly cool.

"Oh, you’re a sorcerer? That’s amazing! I’ve read about the ancient schools of magic from Aedes Elysiae, but I’ve never actually worked alongside one before!" He asks about your magic constantly, eager to learn about everything from incantations to alchemical concoctions.

Unlike others who might be wary of your abilities, Phainon has no fear whatsoever. If anything, he enjoys watching you cast spells. He thinks magic is an art, and you are its finest artist.

The first time he sees you turn someone into a plant, he bursts into laughter. Some arrogant noble had insulted you, sneering about "uncivilized sorcery" while flaunting their wealth. You smiled, whispered an incantation, and in an instant—poof. A rather unimpressive sprig of thyme now occupied the noble’s seat.

"You turned them into a herb?" Phainon wheezed. "That’s incredible. Oh, please tell me this is reversible."

"Of course," you chuckled. "Eventually."

Phainon has an endless sense of humor about your power. If someone annoys him, he’ll dramatically throw himself at your feet and beg, "Please, my dearest sorcerer, make them a turnip. I implore you."

You have to remind him that, no, you’re not going to hex every person who mildly inconveniences him.

That said, when things get serious, Phainon deeply respects your power. He knows that magic like yours isn’t just about showmanship—it’s about wisdom, responsibility, and the will to protect. If you ever lose control or doubt yourself, he’s there to remind you of your strength and purpose.

If he ever sees someone trying to intimidate or harm you, his usual cheerful demeanor vanishes. He stands at your side, hand on his claymore, exuding an unshakable confidence that tells your enemies they’re severely outmatched.

He likes to joke that if you ever got tired of vanquishing Titans, you could make a fortune turning criminals into decorative houseplants. "Imagine it: ‘Sorcerer’s Justice—Transformations While You Wait!’ It’d be a hit."

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but laugh.

Castorice is fascinated by you. As someone who communes with death and the divine, she sees sorcery as a sibling discipline to her own craft. Magic, after all, is just another means of understanding the mysteries of the world.

She appreciates your sense of reason and restraint—after all, power must be wielded wisely. When she sees how pleasant and diplomatic you are, she feels a kinship with you; like her, you possess strength but do not flaunt it.

The first time she witnesses you turn someone into a dandelion, she simply hums in approval. "A fitting fate," she murmurs. "There are worse things than being scattered by the wind."

Unlike Phainon, who finds your transformations hilarious, Castorice finds them poetic. She even starts a collection of pressed flowers and leaves from the unfortunate souls who cross you. ("This one was particularly rude," she muses, tucking a preserved violet into her journal.)

Despite her quiet, ethereal nature, she enjoys your company. The two of you often spend time in silence, working side by side—she preparing rites and funerary charms, you transcribing spells and crafting new incantations.

You’re one of the few people who can read her moods easily. While others find her difficult to read, you notice the subtle shifts in her aura, the tiny hesitations in her voice.

She’s endlessly intrigued by your magic. "The gods gifted you with power," she says one evening, her lavender eyes watching you closely. "Do you ever wonder what price they will demand in return?"

If anyone threatens you, Castorice is merciless. Not in the way Phainon or Dan Heng would be—she doesn’t shout or draw her weapon. Instead, she steps forward with the eerie grace of a specter, her scythe glinting under the moonlight. "You should leave," she whispers, voice like a funeral prayer. "Before they decide what to do with you."

She never asks you to use your powers for petty revenge, but if she ever sees you hesitate to defend yourself, she will remind you in no uncertain terms: "Your power is not a crime. Do not let the unworthy make you feel otherwise."

Over time, the two of you develop a quiet but profound bond—two people standing between the mortal and the divine, wielding power with wisdom, bound by an unspoken understanding.

[tobiasdrake]

Which DBZ antagonist do you like the most?

Boring opinion, I know, but I gotta give it up for the Obvious Choice.

And I'm not just saying that because I haven't had a chance to talk about him yet.

Frieza runs a real estate empire that carries out genocidal acts of gentrification, purging tracts of land of their native inhabitants so he can sell their land for profit. Commenting on this choice for his ultimate villain, Akira Toriyama stated that he made this decision because real estate speculators are the worst people there are.

Fucking based.

From the moment we meet Frieza, he is a monster. Toriyama likes this Big Guy Little Guy dynamic where the Little Guy is the one you really need to watch out for. Frieza is the Littlest Guy ever.

He's so tiny. And yet you know exactly who the most dangerous person in this group is. Zero question.

By the end of this altercation, Frieza reveals one of his signature attacks, giving us our first glimpse of the kind of person and the kind of fighter he is. This is such an important moment for his character and I'm kinda mad that the anime had Dodoria do it instead.

Muri destroys the Scouters and blinds Frieza. I've talked before at length about the devastating impact that this move and the Namekian warriors' attack has on Frieza's campaign.

But once it's done, he has to face the music. He's not getting out of this alive.

In one last desperation play, Muri tells Cargo and Dende to run while blocking them with his body. And that's when it happens.

This is Frieza.

Specifically, this is Frieza's Death Beam. It's never actually given a name, but is generally referred to as Death Beam. We've seen a move like this only once before.

The Dodonpa, signature technique of Tsuru-senryu, first introduced by the assassin Taopaipai, was built for extreme lethality. This is not a technique for fighting; It's a technique for killing.

What makes Frieza's Death Beam stand out from the Dodonpa, however, is its accuracy and its speed. He threads the needle around Muri to hit Cargo before anyone even has a chance to react.

We see its accuracy and speed again six days later, when it finally catches up to the other child fleeing from him here.

The panelwork here calling attention to everyone's reactions as Frieza's ki bullet shoots past them, as his shot threads the needle between all obstacles in his path to strike his target far behind them. Dende is dead before anyone can even process that Frieza fired.

This is the difference between the two techniques. The Dodonpa is a gun. The Death Beam is a sniper rifle. Faced with the physical hurdle of bodies impeding his path, Frieza point-clicked Cargo and Dende to death.

He later executes Vegeta this same way.

Done with you.

All of this context for Frieza's sniping shot serves to set up the stunning subversion when Goku arrives to fight.

Frieza's never seen this before. Goku shouldn't even be able to see the shots coming until they've perforated his lungs. That's how Death Beam works. It's this moment that lays it out: Frieza's about to be tested like he's never been tested before.

Speaking of cool techniques, I've always been partial to this move from his Third Form.

The anime gives Frieza little ki bullets coming out of his fingers but I want to note that we never see a physical projectile when he's doing this. Frieza jams his fingers back and forth in the air while something pulverizes Piccolo.

I've always imagined he's poking the air so fast that it's hitting Piccolo with pressurized air currents. Similar to Goku's Mazoku air current punch from the 23rd Tenkaichi Budokai.

But that's just me.

In any case, Frieza's got some fun moves. He's something of a hobbyist martial artist. Which is to say, Frieza has an interest in martial arts. In addition to his Death Beam, Frieza's concocted a litany of other interesting techniques.

He even invented the Kienzan, independently of Krillin.

Though he can remote operate his Kienzan so it's strictly better than Krillin's. Frieza, in his spare time, has come up with a bunch of cool moves. Too bad he has no idea how to use them.

Frieza's greatest weakness is his inexperience. He practices martial arts the way a business CEO who bought a log splitter so he can cut some wood and feel woodsy practices agriculture. Frieza has never had a proper chance to truly experience martial arts, because he was born too powerful.

The only partner who's ever even dirtied his skin was his dad.

And even that isn't much. Frieza's too strong. He wants to pursue martial arts. He wants to hone his technique. But when you win every fight by blinking too hard in the opponent's direction, what even is there to practice?

Frieza created a transformation to seal away his immeasurable ki because he was born with so much ki flowing from him that he can't even contain it. At his peak, Frieza's ki bleeds out of him. He simply can't contain it.

Goku wonders aloud why Frieza took so long, even after the fight turned against him, to go to 100%. Frieza's been all "Oh I'm only using 10% power this is my 50% you made me go to 75%" and Goku's like, "Okay. My dude. What's this about, for real?

This, incidentally, is not a great translation. What Goku's saying here is supposed to be basically, "Perhaps when you use your full power, your body can't handle it."

He is correct.

Frieza's Full Power has a lot in common with Super Saiyan 3. His theoretical maximum ability is wildly different from the reality of what he's capable of, because he bleeds ki like it's going out of style.

So, while other characters wound up earning transformations that make them more powerful, Frieza created a transformation to seal away some of his incomprehensible ki.

Then he created a couple more because even though he could now control his strength and even manipulate the amount of ki he's releasing at a time, he was still too powerful for anyone to ever compete with and needed even more ki sealed away.

Again, not a fantastic translation from the people who brought us "bottom-tier boy", as Frieza's statement here could be interpreted as saying that he gets taken by a berserker rage or something.

What he's saying is more like, "My power is so great that I can't properly contain it."

Point is, Frieza transformed to lock down his ki and seal parts of it away, so he could control the rest better. Then he kept going, locking away more and more and more of his ki. And even at his most nerfed, he's still five times more powerful than the Second Strongest Guy in the Universe.

Frieza has never in his life had the opportunity to be pushed. That's what makes Goku so enthralling to him.

Frieza plays with Goku because he's genuinely having the time of his life. This guy can fight him in his Final Form. Nobody can fight him in his Final Form. He's so happy, he straight-up forgets that he's trying to complete a genocide against Goku's entire race.

He said that five minutes ago. Gohan's hidden power freaked Frieza the fuck out. Saiyans are too strong now. They've gotten too strong. Frieza cannot permit them to keep existing because they're getting strong. Every last Saiyan, every last one, must die. Every single one. Scorched earth, no survivors.

But then he meets a Saiyan martial artist who's a technical master and pushes him more than he ever thought possible and suddenly:

He goes from "Saiyans are TOO STRONG and they all must die because they might threaten me" to "OH MY GOD I'M HAVING SO MUCH FUN CAN I KEEP YOU!?"

It's this desire for a true rival, this opportunity to satisfy his amateur's curiosity about martial arts, that ultimately unravels him. Frieza has one ruthless and pragmatic option for ending this fight once it starts to be too much for him. He can technically stop the fight any time he wants.

But he can't bring himself to do it. He wants to fight. He wants to compete. Frieza's been on the outside looking in at martial arts for his entire life and even when his greatest fears are fulfilled and the Super Saiyan is in front of him, he wants to try.

So when he does attempt to pull his Lethal Ragequit, he pulls back at the last second. He can't bring himself to do it. Goku initially assesses that Frieza held back out of fear of hurting himself.

But later, as Frieza begins unlocking the final chains on his ki, Goku changes his assessment. Noting that if Frieza really held back simply out of a mistake, he could have shot the planet again at any point to finish the job. He's been letting this play out because he can't bring himself to end the greatest fight of his life that way.

This fight is still happening because Frieza wants to compete. I mean, he wants to win, of course, but he wants to win as a martial artist. He's never truly gotten to be a martial artist before.

He is not the guy winning the gold medal at the Tenkaichi Budokai. He has never been that guy. He's the guy who buys up the land the Tenkaichi Budokai is held on and then bulldozes all the people off of it. But in his heart of hearts, he wants to be that guy. That guy is so cool. Frieza wants to play too.

In a sense, by hosting the Cell Games, Cell got to live Frieza's greatest fantasy.

This is who Frieza is. He's the cruel and wicked heir to Genocide Realtors Inc., who is in love with the idea of being Tenshinhan - A desire that exists at odds with - and undermines - his pragmatic business sense, so to speak.

He is the most vile character in the history of Dragon Ball. The worst kind of person. He is also an overeager child whose wealth and privilege prevents him from ever truly enjoying his hobbies, to an extent that he'd be almost pitiable but for all the genocides.

And he is Dragon Ball's greatest villain.

[supernovafics]

𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.7k words

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, jealous!reader, a bit of angst, fluff

summary: in which you don’t expect to feel so bothered seeing steve talk to another girl, but you do 

author's note: this was unfinished for months and i finally felt inspired to actually finish it thank god. i'm trying to slowly get back into writing stuff for this series so enjoy this for now<333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Summer 1986

When you first heard about the party, you didn’t think too much about it because your Friday night plans were already settled. A simple movie night in your living room with Steve featuring some of the new arrivals that had just gotten to Family Video. However, you still nodded and said a quick, “Maybe I’ll check it out” to your college friend when she told you about her party and you got the address from her too out of niceness. 

It wasn’t until you half-mentioned the party to Robin as you picked through the new arrivals cart during the final hour of her and Steve’s shift that going actually became a possibility. 

“Wait, what? A party at a lake house sounds perfect. We have to go.”

Steve was quick to look up from the computer and shake his head at her words. “No way. We already have plans for the night, Robs.”

The eye roll he received in response was immediate. “You two can waste away on the couch any night you want. Tonight we should go to a party.”

You considered her words and nodded after a second. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Thank you,” She smiled at you before looking back at Steve. “And you need to remember that I’m only gonna be here for a few more weeks, so we need to do as much stupid shit as we can while I am still here.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her words. “Okay, you can’t keep using the college card like it’s an ‘I only have two weeks left to live’ card.”

“I second that,” Steve agreed. “Also, you keep making it seem like you’re going thousands of miles away. You’re only gonna be an hour away from here.”

“Yeah, well, still, things are changing,” She told you both. “And I wanna have fun before I leave.”

Fun ended up being an understatement. 

Barely an hour into the party she was drunk due to one too many cupfuls of whatever punch concoction had been thrown together and put in a big bowl in the kitchen. You and Steve shared one cup of the weirdly sweet drink and then decided to simply settle into the role of babysitting Robin. 

You both were currently lingering by a wall and watching as Robin danced with all of the other people crowded in the living room; you vaguely recognized the ABBA song playing. You made a mental note to tell her no if she came running over to you and Steve and proposed the idea of getting another drink. 

“This is your fault, you know,” Steve told you, leaning into your ear to be heard over the music. “If you didn’t mention the party to her earlier, you and I would be on the couch watching a movie and eating takeout from Third Street.” 

You gave him a sad look coupled with a pouty lip and he immediately felt bad, taking your look to heart. He quickly leaned in to apologetically kiss you. 

“Sorry,” He mumbled against your lips. 

You were smiling as he pulled away. “You’re too easy.”

He immediately rolled his eyes at you and playfully poked your side, which made you laugh. “And you’re very evil.”

“Sorry, I had to,” You said and initiated the quick kiss that time around. “Anyway, yes, I know this is my fault and I’d kill to have Third Street right now, but look how happy she is.” You gestured in the direction of where Robin was in the packed living room, dancing with all of the other people who you were convinced were at least half-drunk, but you now couldn’t see her. “Wait, shit, where did she go?” 

Steve looked around for a second too and then let out a sigh when he also couldn’t spot her. Maybe you two weren’t the best babysitters after all. 

“Okay, I’ll check upstairs and you look around down here,” You said to him. “Oh, and maybe grab some water too. She’ll probably need it sooner rather than later.” 

Steve gave you a quick nod. “Okay.” 

You checked every room upstairs and instead of finding Robin you accidentally interrupted one too many couples making out. After quickly peeking into the last room and mumbling out another “Oops, sorry,” you headed back down the stairs, hoping Steve had better luck than you. You noticed him in the kitchen, two water bottles in hand, and talking to someone who wasn’t Robin but you immediately recognized. 

Vanessa. A girl who was in one of your classes last semester and had gone on a handful of dates with Steve at the end of last year. 

It was hard to decipher what they were talking about right then, but Steve had a small smile on his face and so did she. 

You couldn’t recognize why— or maybe you just refused to admit it right then— but you felt the sudden urge to insert yourself into the conversation; sidle up next to Steve, grab his hand and wrap his arm around you, kiss his cheek or simply plant one on his mouth. Essentially mark your territory for everyone, especially Vanessa, to see. But, you were way too sober to actually consider doing any of that, so you instead looked away from him and went back to searching for Robin.

You found her moments later, sitting on the chair swing on the front porch of the house. 

“Hey, Robs, what are you doing out here?” You asked softly as you sat down next to her, trying not to move the swing too much but that proved to be a lot harder than you thought.

Robin didn’t seem to mind, though. Her eyes were closed as she shrugged at your question. “Just wanted some fresh air.”

“Makes sense,” You nodded. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” Her eyes stayed shut as she answered you. “Sleepy, but at the same time I kinda wanna get another drink and dance some more.” 

“I’ll allow the dancing, but I need to be a good babysitter right now and say no more drinking.” 

She gave you a quick nod. “The logical side of me knows you’re right.” 

Things got quiet for a second and in that moment of quiet you thought about Steve and Vanessa in the kitchen. It seemed as if all your brain wanted to do right then was play that moment on repeat. You could inwardly admit that the conversation had looked completely innocent and probably quite literally meant nothing, but for some reason, it still bothered you.

“A part of me wishes I got drunk with you,” You said to Robin with a sigh and leaned back into the chair. 

She smiled at that and looked at you. “You definitely still can.” 

Before you could answer, you heard the front door open and subsequently close, and then Steve’s voice filled the brief quiet. “Good. You found her.” 

He handed one of the water bottles he was holding over to you. “I grabbed one for you too.” 

He the. placed the other bottle in Robin’s lap and she gave him a small smile. “Thanks, dingus.”  

If the circumstances were different and your thoughts weren’t confused and scattered, you would’ve shifted over a bit and made room for Steve on the small chair swing, and a random conversation would’ve played out for the next few minutes before you or he suggested leaving. But things weren’t different, so you didn’t.

Steve didn’t think too much of it, though. Instead, he simply asked, “Should we head out?”

You nodded, finally meeting his eyes. “Yeah.” 

He looked at Robin. “We’re taking you to our place, right?”

“Yes, please,” She answered, smiling. “You guys are great babysitters.”

She shut her eyes again and Steve looked at you, giving you a smile and you were quick to force one back. It was then that you could tell that he knew something was up with you because of the look he gave you in response to your forced smile, but he didn’t get to ask you what was going on because Robin was abruptly standing up and asking which way the car was. 

It wasn’t until you all were finally in Steve’s car and driving away from the party— Robin fell asleep in the backseat almost immediately— that he finally asked.

“What’s wrong?” 

You let the question linger in the air for a bit— keeping your eyes focused out the window and letting your fingers mindlessly fiddle with the zipper of your jacket— before you answered him. 

“I don’t know…” You mumbled with a shrug and then you sighed and shook your head. “Actually, I do know, but it’s dumb. It’s stupid.” 

His right hand moved off of the steering wheel and found one of yours. “You can tell me.”

You knew he was right, but that didn’t make being a thousand percent honest feel any easier in this moment. 

“Vanessa was at the party,” You ultimately said, figuring that would be the easiest way to start the conversation.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, we talked for a second.”

“Yeah, I saw,” You said and wanted to end the conversation there, but you knew that you couldn’t. “It kinda annoyed me a bit.” 

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, taking a quick look at you.

“I don’t know…” You sighed again. “Just seeing you guys talking was a little annoying, I guess.”

Things got quiet for a second, and that managed to make you get even more inside your head. Maybe Steve thought you were insane or he was even mad at you for feeling this way. This was entirely unchartered territory between you two, so you weren’t entirely sure what his reaction would be. 

“Oh,” Steve said as if he was realizing something and then smiled a bit. “You were jealous.” 

You immediately rolled your eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”

“Like what?”

You used your free hand to gesture to his face. “With that smile on your face.”

“I think it’s cute that you were jealous,” He told you, pulling your intertwined hands up to his lips so that he could kiss the back of yours.

You shook your head. “No, it’s not.”

“It really is,” Steve said and you decided not to protest him that time around, looking out the window again. 

“I love you, by the way,” He continued. “Just in case you forgot.” 

That managed to finally get a smile out of you.  

“I did forget, actually. Thank you for the reminder,” You joked and then turned to look at him. “I love you too.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Guiding a half-awake Robin from the car to your and Steve’s apartment was a feat in itself, but it somehow worked out. You two helped Robin into your bed instead of letting her take the couch and then you set a glass of water and ibuprofen on the nightstand because you had a feeling she’d need it in the morning. 

You changed into your pajamas in Steve’s room, which simply consisted of a t-shirt that you had long ago stolen from Steve and a pair of shorts, and then both you and him settled into his bed. 

He had fallen asleep pretty quickly and you thought, or more so hoped, that you would find sleep easily too, but instead, you tossed and turned in bed because you couldn’t seem to shut off your mind. You weren’t entirely sure why you were still feeling a little sulky and weird about everything��� Steve didn’t care and he wasn’t upset with you for feeling jealous— but there was something still nagging at the back of your head about the whole thing.

“I know what you’re thinking right now,” You heard Steve sleepily mumble after what felt like an hour of you trying but failing to force yourself to sleep but it was probably only twenty minutes. His arm circled around your waist and he pulled you back against him. “And you should stop it.” 

The fact that he could easily read your mind wasn’t surprising and it was probably the only thing that made you feel a little bit okay and made you want to at least attempt to verbalize the thoughts that had been running through your head. 

“I just hate being like this. It feels so— I don’t know…” You were then squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your face into the pillow as you admitted, “When I saw you and her talking I really wanted to just go up and kiss you in front of her, so that she knew that we’re together and you’re mine.”

“Mm, you should’ve done that,” He mumbled into your neck. “That would’ve been really hot.”  

You finally turned on your side to face him. “Shut up. I don’t know why I just admitted that, honestly. I told you this was stupid.” 

“Don't feel embarrassed about it,” He said, somehow managing to sum it all up perfectly; you were feeling embarrassed. “This happens to me all the time.” 

You laughed a little. “You don’t have to lie to try and make me feel better about how dumb I'm being.”

“I’m serious,” He told you. “Remember last Thursday when you came to Family Video during the last hour of mine and Robin’s shift?”

When you gave him a quick nod in response, he continued. “I was so annoyed watching you talk to that one guy.”

At first, you weren’t sure what guy he was talking about, but then it hit you. It had been the all too familiar situation where someone thought that you also worked at the store because you were the only one standing behind the counter since both Robin and Steve were stocking shelves. But even after you told this guy that you actually didn’t work there, he kept the conversation going and you laughed and smiled along for a bit to be nice before making up some excuse and retreating to the break room for the rest of Steve and Robin’s shift. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You didn’t seem annoyed at all, and we didn’t even talk about it.”

“Yeah, because for like two minutes I felt jealous, but then I remembered that I’m the one you’re with and nothing could change that— especially not some random blonde guy— so…” Steve trailed off with a shrug and smile.  

As if flicking a light switch, his words changed everything for you. Once again, he was right; there was nothing that could change what you two had. 

“And just so you know,” He continued, voice soft and quiet. “I always feel embarrassed and stupid about it after it happens too.”

You were smiling as you kissed him then, closing the small bit of distance between you two and finding his lips in the darkness that consumed his room. 

“I can’t believe you’re turning out to be the rational one out of the two of us,” You joked when you pulled back from the kiss and proceeded to bury your face into his neck and completely entangle your body with his. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” He whispered back and pressed the softest kiss to your shoulder before he started to pull away from you. You immediately pouted at him in protest but he continued, pulling the blanket off of both of you and getting out of bed. “It’s only midnight. Let’s do what we were actually supposed to do tonight.”

Hearing him say that made you follow suit and get out of bed too, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Movies and Third Street?”

Steve was nodding as he walked over to you, arms slipping around your waist and pulling you close to him. “Yup.”

“That’s a great idea,” You whispered, looking up at him. “But, no funny business on the couch, though. The walls are way too thin and we’ll never hear the end of it from Robin if she hears anything.”

“Okay,” Steve said, and then proceeded to kiss your forehead and then both of your cheeks and then your neck; all of which made you softly laugh. “Sorry, just needed to get those out of the way first.”

You gave him an understanding nod that you hoped looked as serious as you wanted it to be, but there was a wide smile on your face as you spoke. “Okay, yeah, makes sense.”

He gave you one final kiss, that time against your lips, and then he was pulling away from you and heading toward his shut door. Your arms circled around him from behind as you followed him out into the living room. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

[aouiaa]

hii can you please do an abby x reader where Manny throws a party at the WLF stadium and abby and her gf go and her gf gets quite drunk and when she gets drunk she gets clingy and it’s just cute and fluffy and stuff.

if not don’t stress 💐💐

❝ HOW ABOUT THAT OFFER ? ❞ — ABBY ANDERSON

warnings and disclaimers, dealer!abby, alcohol consumption, usage of pet names (babe, pretty), descriptions of types of drunks, abby being so mm (need her).

TAPE THE MOUTH SHUT, i couldn’t resist the chance to scooch in the amazing dealer trope. i meannn, who doesn’t love her? I DO, MUAHAHA. keep sending requests! i love getting requests, or asks in general. just read my rules AND don’t be weird. OKAYYAYAABYEYEE

A firm knock on the wooden, painted door interrupts the participants inside. the music, once a mere background noise, now assaults your ears as the door opens and manny stands there, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. after greeting abby with dab, the two of you step into the room, the space seems to shrink as groups of people mill about, mingling together. the thick air, laden with the combined scents of sweat and weed, assaults your senses.

The tension in the air calls for some liquid courage, barely letting abby mingle with her own crowd, you practically drag her towards the makeshift alcohol table, where you promptly pour a random assortment of shitty, cheap liquor into a solocup. abby, who’s barely registering how she even got it there, notices your witch’s concoction, and laughs, leaning close enough so you can hear her over the music. "you sure you wanna drink that?" she taunts playfully.

In response, you scoff, rolling your eyes as you defiantly pour the chaser into the cup. "i can handle my liquor just fine, abby." you assure her, unamused. she immediately leans back, putting her hands up in a playful gesture of surrender "alright, alright," she laughs, "just saying ‘cause last time..." her voice trails off into laughter as you let out a exasperated sigh.

As the night wore on, so did the consumption, making the atmosphere becomes more carefree. it was cup after cup as you soon feel that familiar warm, fuzzy feeling that signals your transition to “that type of drunk.”

Everyone knows there are distinct of drunken personas: the aggressive, rowdy, and affectionate. as for you, the affection is on full display as you shower the apples of the blonde’s cheeks with kisses, dispensing them like a sprinkler sprinkling a flowerbed.

Abby, taking on the role of the caregiver for the evening sticks by your side at arms length. seated on a couch in the far corner of the main room, you purchase a spot on her lap, head resting on her shoulder with your arm flung around her neck while your other hand gently holds a half-empty cup of tonight’s libations. one of her lean, strong arms is wrapped around your waist, acting as your anchor.

Occasionally, between conversations with manny, she checks on you. this time is no exception, a strong tingling feeling resonates down your body from the touch of her lips brushing against your ear as she whispers, "lemme know when you're ready to head out, alright, pretty?" pressing a kiss to your cheek which makes you whinge, burying your face into the crook of her neck, flushed.

The thought of escaping this crowded scene and snuggling into the warmth of your fluffy pajamas, ensconced in the embrace of your plush bed, was tempting. but a guilty pleasure at best. you knew that abby's presence was strictly for business, parties merely transactions for her trade.

Over the course of the past three hours, a steady flow of people approached the two of you, each one slipping her money before muttering a brief ‘thanks’ and disappearing into the masses.

When money talked, you wouldn’t dare silent it.

It’s why you haven’t confirmed your submission, maybe the booze was talking, but all you really wanted to do was be coddled by your gentle giant. it’s not anything different than what it was three minutes ago. from afar, someone shouted her name, summoning her services. abby acknowledged the call, quickly murmuring, "i’l be back." before waving manny over to keep an eye on you.

It should have taken no more than a minute, perhaps a minute and a half if the asshole was particularly awkward. but that additional thirty seconds felt like an eternity of separation from her. you shook your head, pressing your body against hers as if your proximity alone could make her stay.

“no, stay here.” you sulk, abandoning the cup within milliseconds and wrap your arms tightly around her neck.

She chuckles, enclosing your body in a warm embrace. "but, i’ll be gone for a minute, tops." she promises.

Frustrated, you give her your best puppy eyes, questioning. “why can’t they just come over here?” shortly adding the dramatic proclamation, "i’ll die in those sixty seconds." that she knows you mean. with a heavy sigh and zero hesitation, she looks up at the guy waiting for her, then shakes her head dismissively before returning her attention back to you.

“okay, okay,” she hushes you, “i’m right here, babe.” she says, kissing your forehead and shifting in more comfortable position to embrace you. resting her head on yours and utters the only good thing that has came out of her mouth tonight.

“how about that offer?”

requests are open, don’t be shy :3

PERMANENT TAGLIST, @dyk3ang3l, @elliesprettygirl, @les4elliewilliams, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @marsworlddd, @bready101, @abbysleftbicepp, @airenaa, @caraphernellie, @astralnymphh, @whore87, @kaiilectric, @sapphicontherun, @mikellie, @nihilisticangelbby, @be3flow3r, @ppuussyyy, @clairoscharm

[!] — PERCHANCE YOU WANNA BE ADDED TO MY PERMANENT, look here for more info!

[cultkinkcoven]

Occultists, witches and spiritualists really need to stop peddling the lie that spirituality, witchcraft, paganism, etc. isn’t a psychological phenomenon as well as a mystical one. Your psychology will in fact, fundamentally inform your experiences with spirituality.

And we also need to stop pretending that spirituality and witchcraft are somehow contrary to mental illness. Or that having a mental illness means you can’t do witchcraft.

I’ll be completely honest with you guys and say that certain people with certain afflictions are more predisposed to different “mystical” experiences than others. I don’t think it’s a great coincidence that I am so great at visualization given that I was raised in a severely neglectful household. It doesn’t surprise me that many pagans are lonely people. This doesn’t mean to say that spirituality is “filling” a hole within anyone (although if it is, that’s great for you) but more so that, well, this path is unpopular for a reason. Alternative subcultures are alternative for a reason, and outcasts and rejects usually find a home there for a reason.

This also doesn’t mean to say that people who engage in witchcraft and spiritualism are inherently mentally ill. There is still a difference between hallucinations and spiritual encounters. And there was never any rule that said that both of these things cannot happen to a single person. For the safety of yourself and others we should be aware of the warning signs of dissociation and hallucination, but that doesn’t make anyone “wrong” for experiencing those things. And experiencing those things doesn’t mean you cannot explore spirituality or do witchcraft.

I hate it when “spiritualists” who are actually just anti-vax conservatives push the narrative that people with mental health issues cannot participate in spirituality. I also despise the notion that mental health issues are inherently a sign of an energetic imbalance. We’re all walking around with a special concoction of brain soup in our heads, it doesn’t surprise me that Ares devotees tend to have BPD, that many Aphrodite devotees struggle with self harm, that many people who work with angels have paranoia or generalized anxiety.

There was never any rule that said that you cannot use your deities or magic to help you cope with your mental health. I know some people will say “the Gods aren’t here to be your friend or hold your hand through life” but I’ve seen no evidence to suggest that’s true. I see no reason why a God like Ares couldn’t help his devotee with BPD come down after a bout of rage, I see no reason why Dionysus couldn’t help his devotee with their alcoholism or substance abuse, I see no reason why Aphrodite couldn’t help a devotee with relapse or negative self talk.

Witchcraft and paganism were historically used as a tool for survival, to bring people ease, to help people feel safe and secure, blessed and protected. That applied to all people, including those with mental health issues.

[pureshadough]

You like sending Nilla to the past with Font of Knowledge. You also like having a clueless of the horrors Nilla and/or Smilk interacting.

So what if you sent Font of Knowledge to the future at either Healer Cookie or pre-Beast-Yeast Nilla?

MAN YOUR MIND. that fucking rules. Okay. I'm cooking. I am in the kitchen.

what immediately comes to mind is the fount fucking up some spell that shouldn't have been messing with to start with and whisking himself forward to juuuust before cookie odyssey, lost and confused and most crucially soul jam-less (got left in the past) when the common trio find him. since nobody knows what his Deal is gingerbrave decides to take the dude w/ him to the vanilla kingdom when PV invites him for the ancients meetup, which goes about as well as you'd expect it to:

so, still entirely unsure of where or when he is (alternate world entirely? everything is so different, the landscape and kingdoms and people are all completely unrecognizable, there's no sign of the other beasts -) fount lies through his teeth about his background and sweet talks his way into staying in the vanilla kingdom as a self-proclaimed academic throughout the events of odyssey, wherein he:

contributes a great deal to the general discussion in spite of the fact he's a complete stranger and learning about much of the immediate politics On The Spot

goes with them on the trip to the republic, and most notably helps out with the development of magic candy

almost gets arrested in the republic as related to the development of magic candy

concocts progressively more extreme plans to steal pure vanilla's soul jam all the while (up to and including attempted murder)

...you know, instead of ever confiding in anybody about his situation like a normal person would

[malwaredykes]

well. here she is. miss Leigh Stasik.

trans woman. stubborn, incorrigible, eccentric. communist; she has leftist in-fighting with herself on the regular. a cannibal; she has no moral qualms about this, and its both a bit of a spiritual thing and a bit of a pragmatic thing. medic (not a doctor. no medical license). she knows for sure she had some kind of significant personality change from being shot in the head, but she doesn't remember what she was like exactly before it happened, it all became this kind of distant memory soup. shes originally from west new cali, but she grew very attached to the mojave. and has a lot of contempt for the ncr. She Will Serve Crack Before She Serves This Country. thank god the army discriminates against transsexuals etc. zero tolerance for the legion, obviously.

she firmly believes she is not nice, or kind, or compassionate, but instead her actions and her general sense of justice stem from her simply doing whats the most logical and objectively beneficial. it may be true to some extent, but she might also have a wee bit of ocd of the "i am a horrible person whos at all times like 2 seconds away from committing atrocities" variety.

shes a SCIENTIST. unofficially. she doesnt have a degree nor a chosen field of study. she makes her own hrt and other mysterious concoctions, including designer chems. which she claims she ingests injects etc not for recreational purposes, but to Enhance Her Powers And Possibilities. she reads old world books about psychology so she can manipulate people better. and makes weird contraptions and doohickeys while high. shes a HACKER of course and hacks terminals and systems for fun and just to see if she can.

her stats are out there due to implants and intense training, originally they were rather average. in-game she wears combat armor mk 2, but i see her having spruced it up like this. her main weapon is the ycs/186, the unique gauss rifle, but before that she used a modded plasma pistol. which she very much enjoyed the silly appearance of. because it was so small and with so much shit tacked on and she could just hold it in one hand like a mutated revolver like Hands up motherfucker bang bang bang lol. her melee weapon of choice is the machete gladius, but she's been training to be able to wield a thermic lance.

in my head the trajectory of her actions and the fate of the mojave that follows is different from what you can do with the game, because leigh could only go for The Secret Leftist Route Which Was Supposed To Be In The Game But We Were Robbed Of It.

boone was the first friend she made after leaving goodsprings and their relationship is particularly notable. they are Comrades, Siblings-In-Arms, Worsties (like besties but fucked up). theyve seen each other at their worst. they annoy each other on purpose. theyve had serious ideological clashes with each other and some ways in which boone perceives the world drive leigh absolutely nuts. they're ride or die for each other. theyre the kind of comfortable around each other where she'll be on the toilet and smoking a cig with the door open and talking to him, while he's naked sitting on the floor removing stitches from his leg. she's done surgery without anesthesia on him. he's projectile vomited blood on her from being poisoned by cazadores. she strongly encourages him to become a traitor to the ncr and to take part in the revolution and the formation of the new independent mojave alliance. somehow, it works on him in the end. shamefully they kinda like snuggling... boone bro come to bed man its nighty night man its beddy bye time.

shes in love with lily bowen. i havent decided yet whether she actually makes a move. but she thinks lily is sooooo dreamy. and shes right. if you dont think the enormous 203 year old blue mutant woman is dreamy thats your problem. outta her way

[22ayla21]

Hiiii~ I really like your Amphoreus men trio posts a lot, so I'm gonna request something.

I've been craving for spicy noodles while thinking of (one of) them and was thinking, what if their wife has some crazy spice tolerance? Of course, she would only make one dish for herself only (she wouldn't want them to die),until they questioned it and found out one of the kids inherited her spice tolerant.

Fiery Inheritance

His wife is quite the fan of herbs and spiciness, but it turns out these genes were passed on to one of her children.

Appetizing aromas filled the kitchen—a mix of spices, stewed meat, and fresh herbs. Mydei's wife deftly wielded a knife, chopping vegetables, while a pot of fragrant sauce simmered on the stove. Today was a special family dinner, and, as always, she was cooking with love.

She had long known the golden rule: not to make it too spicy for the others. Although she herself could easily eat something that would make the gods cry, her husband and children had varying levels of spice tolerance. So, the usual balance had been worked out over the years—a delicate, fragrant, slightly spicy dish for everyone, and a hellish fiery concoction for herself.

But today, she discovered something unexpected.

"Mom, can I have some more sauce?" her middle daughter held out her plate, almost empty. His wife smiled, taking the ladle.

"Of course, dear."

But then she noticed something strange.

The middle daughter scooped up a spoonful and… without blinking, calmly put a piece of meat soaked in the scorching sauce from her personal plate into her mouth.

His wife froze. Mydei also froze, watching his daughter like an exotic animal.

"You…" his wife narrowed her eyes. "It's not spicy for you?"

The daughter shrugged.

"Well… a little." She paused, then added, "But it's tasty!"

Mydei dropped his fork. His wife felt a surge of pride.

She carefully put down her spoon and looked intently at her daughter, as if seeing her for the first time.

"You mean it's okay for you?"

"Yep." The girl smiled cheerfully. "Can I add some more pepper?"

Mydei raised his hands.

"No-no-no, wait, your mother can eat lava, but you…"

"No, wait," his wife smiled predatorily. "Let her try."

Mydei watched in horror as his wife generously added more spices to her daughter's plate, and she continued to eat with gusto, not even wincing.

"Great stars…" he muttered. "She's definitely your daughter."

His wife patted her daughter on the shoulder with a proud smile.

"Welcome to the club."

The middle daughter giggled happily, while Mydei clutched his head. Now there were two people in the family capable of consuming pure flame.

"We're all doomed," he whispered. But his wife only smirked, scooping up another spoonful of her fiery dinner. Now she knew exactly who would inherit her secret family recipe.

The smell of spices filled the kitchen, mingling with the aromas of stewed meat, herbs, and seasonings. Anaxa's wife deftly handled a knife, chopping greens, while a stew simmered on the stove. She always maintained a balance of flavors for the family—enough spices to enhance the taste, but not enough to burn. However, her own plate was a different story.

She carefully set aside the communal pot and took her portion. Hot peppers fell into her plate one by one—red, green, even a rare blue one that promised a truly fiery taste. Black pepper sprinkled thickly, followed by spices that burned even from a distance.

"Just right," she thought with satisfaction, stirring the explosive mixture. But as soon as she took a spoonful, a voice sounded nearby.

"Mom, can I try?"

She raised her head and met the shining eyes of her youngest son. The child looked at her plate with lively interest, not with horror like the other family members.

"Are you sure? It's… very spicy."

He just nodded impatiently.

Anaxa's wife brought the spoon to her son's mouth, watching his reaction. The other children and even Anaxa himself froze with curiosity. They were ready to see tears, panic, or at least a hiss from the burning. But the boy just chewed slowly, and then… beamed.

"Tasty!"

Silence fell in the room. The older children exchanged shocked glances, and Anaxa frowned, as if his world had cracked.

"He's like her…" the father muttered barely audibly. His wife smirked, gently ruffling her son's hair.

"Looks like you take after me."

And at that moment, Anaxa realized that even more extreme culinary experiments awaited their home.

The kitchen smelled of spices. The pungent aroma of cardamom, coriander, and hot pepper filled the room, mingling with the haze of freshly cooked dinner. Phainon, standing at the threshold, watched as his wife deftly served soup into plates, habitually adding an extra handful of spices to her portion.

He was used to this sight. Since the beginning of their marriage, he had realized that his wife was not one to fear fire, at least when it came to food. The usual amount of spices for her was something trivial, so she always seasoned her portion in a way that would make anyone else's eyes pop out.

"How do you even eat that…" he once muttered, watching her calmly devour the blazing mess as if it were ordinary bread and butter.

She only smiled in response.

Today was no exception. But as soon as she looked down at her youngest daughter, something clicked in her head. The girl looked at her mother's dish with obvious interest, then at her own plate, and then, without further ado, took a spoon and, as if habitually, scooped from her mother's plate.

Phainon had already reached out to take the spoon away—he knew how strong the "fire" was and didn't want their child to suffer. However, his wife stopped him with a light wave of her hand, watching her daughter with genuine interest.

And then something incredible happened. The girl calmly chewed a piece, tilted her head as if considering the taste, and then… scooped up another spoonful.

Phainon froze.

"No… it can't be…"

But the fact was evident. The youngest daughter calmly ate the soup, saturated with so many spices that it would make him, an adult man, sweat. Moreover, a familiar expression appeared in her eyes—satisfaction.

His wife suppressed a chuckle, her shoulders shaking with restrained laughter.

"She's like you…" Phainon breathed, slightly stunned.

"Looks like it." She patted her daughter on the head with pride. The girl only smiled contentedly and pushed her mother's dish towards herself, clearly intending to finish it. Phainon ran a hand over his face.

"Well… I guess there's one more fireproof person in this house…"

His wife only nodded contentedly, watching her daughter devour the "fiery" dinner with gusto. It was now obvious that she had inherited not only her mother's character, but also her taste preferences.

[minteagalaxea]

siren | jm. uso

jimmy uso . breakers series

genre: smut (minors dni) . a modicum of plot content warnings: unprotected sex (please use protection) . exhibitionism . daddy kink . squirting . questionable dirty talk . afab reader (she/her pronouns) . implied age gap (reader is in college/early twenties) . cowgirl position . spanking word count: 1.73k inspiration: jimmy slapping gunther . jimmy at the beach (thank you naomi) . mermaids/sirens . spring break . me being on spring break (i graduated early!) songs: "back it up" by seventeen (x) . wave by seventeen (x) read also: "serpent" (x) . "seelie" (x) notes: thank you so much to @spiicii for helping me find the jimmy photos and inspo for the graphics. also thank you @lov3rla03 and the cumfessions for really making me lock it in 🩶

spring break meant a lot of things to a lot of people.

when she was a child, it meant family vacations to whatever spot her parents decided, bumbling around on unsteady feet and wide-eyed eagerness. when she reached adolescence, she still followed along, enjoying more of the scenery than she would ever care to admit.

and now that she was (mostly) an adult, it was having the absolute time of her damn life and savoring the ferocity of university stereotypes about partying and hooking up and drinking and being generally unhinged. and she decided that the best place to really live out the stereotypes of a college student (or, at least, her college) was the spring break capital for every party-loving university student—miami.

it started really at the resort’s dayclub she was staying at with her friends. she was skimpy to the extent of nonexistence, but it didn’t matter in the cabana as her hips swiveled atop the man’s clothed, hard length as his tongue swallowed her. she didn’t give a flying ass about who was watching—hell, if she turned to her left, she saw her best friend in the lap of the man’s friend, his hand slipping down their bikini shorts as they laughed at something or the other. on her right, her other friend was somewhat more tasteful, her head resting on the chest of the broadest of the three as they talked about something or the other, his hand stroking their thigh as they spectated the crowd of people making out or fucking around or in the pool. how the three of them managed to pair off with each of the three men that came in a group was beyond her, but she wasn’t going to complain.

but, that thought slipped away as the edm pounded to the beat of the spanks the man below her was meting out. her voice was a drunk, breathless sort of giggle as she moaned louder into his ear. “c’mon, babygirl, you gotta focus on me.” he sounded gravelly, a concoction of sugar and spice and everything sinful in existence.

“i am,” she countered, arching her ass back to take those spanks with delighted preens, “but i wanted to ask you something…”

“yeah, baby?”

her lips brushed his mouth again with a cheeky smile, “why are you called big jim?”

“you’re sitting on him, babygirl.”

“well, i’m not on him, jimmy. not yet, anyways.” her lips fell into a pout about it, about not having him in them yet, her impatience more apparent as they humped him more fervently.

“patience, baby, we got all day. all week even. ain’t that right?” jimmy’s lips curled into a carnal, feral smirk.

her pouting continued, earning them several more spanks as the song changed to some sort of house track. he didn’t stop them from pawing her nimble fingers into his trunks, letting them feel it for themselves. “oh,” she purred, “you are big, aren’t you, daddy?”

“you think i’d lie about that shit?” he retorted, nipping her bottom lip firmly as he maneuvered her thong aside to expose her cunt to his length, rubbing more insistently now.

“don’t wrestlers…stretch the truth a little bit?” she teased.

“i ain’t gonna lie to you about this, though, babygirl,” jimmy commented, voice low in her ear to make her shiver, “but, now that you say that, that makes me question whether or not i wanna let you sit on me.”

her voice grabbed to a coquettish, needy whine as she fought his firm, stilling grip to get her way, “please, daddy? my pussy’s hungry for you.”

“babygirl, your little cunt’s hungry for any dick. you’re on spring break.”

“don’t care right now, want your dick inside!” her voice came in a reedy whine, her need too hard to bear as she smeared all of her slickness onto him with each grind up and down, and it was enough for him to give in to her demands. he did, after another round of spanking to the beat drop of some house track.

when he sank her down, it wasn’t with any sense of gentility. not that she was expecting it to be gentle, that wasn’t her style right now anyways. that was her friend’s, the one with the big burly man with the long hair as his hand traced lower. and it wasn’t like her other friend, who was getting spoon-fucked as the guy’s hand (was it jimmy’s brother? she couldn’t remember, but she had to admit it was hot).

and the pace jimmy set was relentless, unforgiving as he made her bounce like her life fucking depended on it. okay, so maybe it did right now, with her insatiable hunger for hard, fast, and dirty as he pounded into her, balls slapping right up against her ass she rode him like a bull.

“shit, daddy, that’s so good.” her voice erupted into sultry moans and keens with each flex of her ass and each reverberating smack from gravity. jimmy’s hands gripped that shit like he fucking meant it, her sounds luring him in deeper and deeper into her orbit.

maybe it was a mutual thing, how his voice sunk her deeper into that ocean where nothing mattered except hedonistic pleasure. it was an easy pit to sink into now that there were any mental hurdles getting her way of it. jimmy’s voice certainly was great at evaporating all of that as he cooed seductively, “that’s it, babygirl. you’re not worrying about anything, are you? just focused on this dick filling you up nice and hard.”

it was like being underwater, her head dizzy and foggy with ecstasy. as if his voice was the only thing separating her from coming back up for air to face her reality of impending classes and office hours in that vicious cycle. jimmy was good at it, somehow punishing enough to have her sore for days, yet with enough care to let her feel every vein and ridge that defined his shaft. and she was focused. her friend with the long-haired man would definitely agree—hell, she’d probably tease her later that she could probably describe jimmy’s dick better than her paper on classical greek history and the concept of autonomy and freedom. that prospect made her moan even louder into his ear as her walls clenched around him hotly, especially when she adjusted her angle just right against his reclining figure on the chaise and he hit that spot just right to have her seeing stars.

“shit, babygirl, that’s the spot?” jimmy inquired with a sort of devious smirk as he shifted himself accordingly to keep hitting that spot in her cunt, “gonna get you splashing like a mermaid for daddy?”

“yes, daddy, don’t stop!” she cried into his ear, bouncing harder with more insistence while he pistoned his hips upward at a more palpable pace than earlier, breakneck and bruising as her sounds reached a staccato fervor and reedy pitch. her breasts rubbed up against his body, nipples hardened underneath her scantily-clad top. she knew he could feel it even before he pushed enough of her bikini off so he could have her flesh properly against his as her tongue tangled with his in a dirty kiss, a tango for dominance until she succumbed to him, letting him plunder her mouth.

jimmy’s voice snarled his grunts. his hips pummeled her insides even faster, keeping that angle as she gasped as her pussy fluttered, that spongy wall so so overwhelmed as she convulsed atop him, vibrating in delight.

“shit, babygirl, turning into a little mermaid on land?” his voice came out in a dark tease as he capitalized on her climax, on the tight heat of her clenching walls and her ecstatic cries.

“c’mon, daddy, make me one!” she squealed, eyes rolling to the back of her head as she collapsed onto his strong, inked body, letting him do all the work as her hips bucked off of his own and the chaise, “make me cum so fucking hard!”

“daddy’s got you, babygirl,” he assured with a carnal smirk at her debauched expression and assertion as she felt a hand traipse casually to her mound, pushing the front of her thong aside enough for his hand to rub at her neglected, swollen clit. his voice returned to her ear with honey and cognac on this tongue, a smile on his lips as he nibbled along her exposed neck, “how’d your pussy get even tighter for me, hmm?”

“‘cause my pussy loves your cock, daddy.” her answer wove that spell even deeper, even harder, and even heavier as he busted inside of her. shit, that feeling of being full of cock and cum was heavenly, and she truly missed it. except this was even better as he kept going, kept tapping that overworked clit of hers until he got what he wanted.

and what he wanted was that beautiful little waterfall, and she gave it to him in spades.

her lips curled into a euphoric smile as her walls splattered her essence all over his stomach, a fucked-out preen escaping past her lips as that ichor came out in riveting splashes like a mermaid surfacing to shore in the pool. “fuck, just like that!” she exclaimed with hedonistic glee, pornographic almost as he incited more of that precious nectar from her body with encouraging groans, splattering his abs with it until she collapsed onto his chest.

her breaths were labored, eyes foggy as she stewed in their mess as she felt how his seed was slowly dripping out of her sopping heat onto the chaise. in a lazy moment of boldness, she pressed her lips onto his just as the next song played, some raunchy heavy house track that she didn’t care too much about other than it made her veins thump and pussy flutter around jimmy’s dick like a butterfly.

“c’mon, babygirl,” he offered with that impish, charming smile of his, “let’s play mermaids for real now, hmm?” he effortlessly lifted her up off of the chaise and into the pool. when she turned to her left, she saw some couples engaging in the same behaviors she and her fling were about to. or, at least, some similar equivalent.

all she said, all she wanted to say, as the clear blue chlorinated waters enveloped them both was a tantalizing, “yes, daddy.”

taglist ⇢ @yana3sworld . @roseydoesypoesy . @acute-crashout-jeyuso . @fearlesschimera . @theusotwinzcom . @geekinstilettos

[heideez]

man i just love the sea grunkles 😭😭🫶🫶

a few (many) frequently written elements that i love and wanna talk about bc i feel like yapping:

- ford’s health anxiety. when he worries about stan’s health to a ridiculous degree, or oscillates between “he can have whatever he wants his mind got erased!! he saved the world!!” and “oh my god he’s going to die this man is in such poor health i need to concoct 357 potions to regrow his teeth and fix his eyes and—”

- stan reintroducing ford to human food. yes king you throw those fucking nutrient pills overboard! especially love when ford rediscovers his love for sweet things. no way this man was not malnourished coming thru the portal.

- looking identical again. the previous two often play into this with stan being more active/eating better and losing weight, ford actually eating and gaining some, plus them being back together + in sync just makes them look more similar + honestly ten years younger.

- mutual guilt. both of them are haunted by their past mistakes, but constantly dismiss the other’s. they both blame themselves for their mess of a history and are constantly trying to reassure their twin. “it was my fault.” “no, it was My fault!”

-mutual anxiety over the other’s safety. especially after ford learns more about stan’s past. they are determined to die of simultaneous heart attacks and will not hear it any other way (they both secretly think they’ll die first but ford is blatantly wrong and in denial)

- them acting like kids again/behaving childishly. they both deserve this, plus they return to elements of their dynamic that existed the last time it was good, which would have been as teens.

-petty fights. both of these men are deeply flawed. let them argue over shit that does not matter and then instantly regret it because they’ve lost Too Much Time.

- both being inept with modern technology. bonus points if ford takes the phone like “ill handle this” and fails to handle it. extra bonus points if fiddleford navigates it easily.

- PLATONIC (!!!!!!!) physical touch/cuddles. bonus points if feral ford is involved here. but i just love it in general because i feel like that’s their love language in a way. wether it’s playful shoves/noogies or freaking out and needing to be close to each other after nightmares, across the board it’s one of my favorite things with them.

- stan demonstrating his accrued science knowledge but Choosing not to use the calculations side of it because he hates it and it reminds him of the portal work (unless ford asks very nicely or gives him the puppy dog eyes)

- stan being unable to say no to ford. not like literally unable but he’s Very easily guilted and again. the puppy dog/sad wet bird eyes. bonus points if stan uses similar tactics to get ford to do basic self care!

anyway expect some sea grunkles content from me soon because they live in my brain. and let me know if you have any more tropes you love with them, because i always want to hear people’s yap/thoughts on them and their dynamic.

(this is all 10000% and strictly platonic. do NOT tag as ship or i will instantly block you. hate that i have to say this.)

[scribz-ag24]

I've recently seen again a post talking about the Sableye and Dusknoir's relationship so i'd like to put my two cents in the discussion, for I love screaming into the void about PMD. (this isnt meant to discourage any other interpretations btw this is just my take on theirs and Dusknoir's relationship, bc I think they're very fun characters and I am very glad the game actually gives these minions a bit of relevance in se5).

Tbh I don't buy that Dusknoir treats the Sableye nicely, at least not out of kindness. I don't think he's a tyrant or inexplicably mean, of course, and I think his minions ADORE him, but i also believe that doesn't mean he's nice to them, sth that i consider meaningful for their character arcs.

Throughout the entire game he's exclusively giving them orders, in se5 he concocts a plan that involves thrashing them MULTIPLE times (he's lucky Grovyle isn't one to try and kill enemies in battle ig), and the cherry on top is that the first time we see him being fully genuine he does this:

(yes, he is in turmoil in here, but there's not a single thing implying that 1. this is an unusual response towards the sablye, 2. dusknoir feels bad for it at some point or is surprised at himself, 3. this has any impact in the sableye at all. You can argue these reactions happen off screen and we don't see them, they don't happen bc they have pressing matters to attend to or they happen after they return to life, and that's perfectly valid, but i'm sticking with what the game shows us, here.)

I must say, though, the fact that the Sableye, despite having been almost mindless pokémon up to now, STAND UP TO AND ATTACK Primal Dialga for their boss and even try to look after him despite him ordering them to check on Grovyle and Celebi first is SO important to me. they are goons to the bone and they love that scheming ghost so much.

My own view is that Dusknoir is generally polite to them (you wouldn't randomly break your own revolver or weapon without any reason, would you?), but is quicker to get mean with them than with people he doesn't know or he is seeking to manipulate. He doesn't care about their behaviour as long as they get the job done, which is why I think the anime thing of the Sableye climbing onto his shoulder isn't that remarkable, rather it's a very cute moment, one that is showing how they've been working together for long and how their size difference affects their interactions, but it is not necessarily conveying an affectionate bond (this is a bit random, but it reminds me of Disney's Jafar with Iago lmao. throw your pet sableye at your enemies so they mock them and then return to your shoulder). Additionally, Dusknoir letting the Sableye onto his shoulder is probably as close as we are gonna get to a villain turning around in his chair while petting a cat in PMD lol.

[this isn't meant to be a one-to-one comparison, it's just a detail i find cute and shows that this gesture can have multiple interpretations, with none being the only right one]

Leaving that aside, I hesitate to claim Dusknoir trusts his Sableye as allies, as Grovyle makes a point in the main story of how the Sableye (your Sableye, he says, as if objectifying them; not friends, but tools, weapons at Dusknoir's disposal) are lacking compared to the way hero/partner/grovyle support one another (power of friendship and hidden information babyyyy). The Sableye are used to Dusknoir's way of doing things, though, I'm sure. They know what happens when he's displeased, after all.

I think, most of all, the Sableye are meant to look disposable: they are 6 identical pokémon that almost act like a hivemind, and we are not supposed to think at all about how we may hurt them in battle any more than we do with the angry Manectric pack or random dungeon pokémon. This, I believe, is why the game has them stand up against Dialga and gives them unique dialogue at the end of se5. They're meant to show their inner shine, just as Dusknoir managed to do. They suddenly gain an individuality they had never shown while they were working to maintain the dark future.

Where they abandoned Dusknoir in the Old Ruins, now Grovyle has motivated them to look for their dignity and fight for a better world, and that starts with protecting their leader from Primal Dialga's rampage, and supporting his new objective and allies in their quest to save the future. In their own small way, they've also grown as characters throughout SE5.

I believe that, overall, Dusknoir saw the Sableye as tools, but thanks to their growth and clear care for him, there's a possibility he might start to see them (and by extension other pokémon) in a more genuine, less pragmatic / objectifying way in the future. Now that Dusknoir has the chance to live a fulfilling life, he may learn to care for others without surrounding himself by so many walls. If anything, I think their future is quite bright. Not that the Sableye would mind if he still thrashed them around, though lol, they're clearly not bothered much by it (special episode 0 had a great depiction of the sableye imo, you can check that romhack if you haven't yet).

In conclusion, look at these little guys who adore their can-get-mean-but-is-mostly-polite boss and probably have a body count but now are good, they're so cute:

[moonchild9350]

Perfect Love

summary: you and Jisung work together and he has two secrets: one that he really likes you and two he has a secret at home…his clone

pairing: Jisung x fab!reader x clone!Jisung

genre: sci fi au, coworkers to lovers, fluff, angst, smut-18+MDNI

word count: 8.2k

warning: spanking, unprotected sex (don't), creampies, squirting, clit play, voyerism, multiple rounds, nipple play, alcohol usage, other things essential to the plot i don't want to spoil

notes: andddd it's here, another part of the clone anthology series. this is standalone and you do not have to read the part one, but if you want to do so, it's linked below. let me know what you think!

if you enjoyed please like, comment, and reblog ♡

please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©️moonchild9350 (2025)

Perfect Copy | General Masterlist

You love routine. You need routine. It’s what keeps you grounded and level headed as you go through this journey that we call life. Without it there’d be chaos, your life twisted, which is something you’d like to avoid at all cost if possible.

It’s a Monday morning and another work week is upon you, filled with meetings, projects, and listening to your clients harp on how slow you are at your job. You promptly get up and begin to make the bed, ensuring all of the wrinkles are smoothed down and pillows are fluffed and properly placed. Your stuffies that consist of a kitten and seal are placed strategically, each slightly catacornered so they can face each other accordingly.

You make your way to the bathroom and begin your routine, brushing your teeth, brushing and styling your hair, completing your skin routine followed by putting on your concoction of makeup creating the perfect neutral look. Satisfied with your appearance, you begin to put on your outfit that was carefully picked out the night before.

A beautiful ensemble of various shades of blue and beige, perfectly selected to impress the new client you would be meeting with. You loved to match your outfits to your clients personalities and if you’ve worked with them before, the genre that they most often worked with, wanting them to feel as if you are a good fit for them. After all, they are entrusting their work with you, relying on you to perfect and polish it so the mass of people will buy it.

You are an editor for Paperweight Publishing Company, a profession you truly can say you enjoy, unlike most of your colleagues. You love spending your day speaking with clients and reading the words they have carefully put down, often getting sucked into the world they have created.

As you fill your travel mug with warm coffee, you take a whiff of the aroma, smiling at the anticipation of tasting the nutty goodness on your tongue. Grabbing your work bag and keys, you exit your apartment, stepping into the rather shabby hallway. You may romanticize your life within the walls of your home, however, that feeling instantly fades away once you leave your little abode and enter the outside world.

The early morning hours are spent navigating the busy sidewalks, your heels steadily click clacking against the concrete and your coffee sloshing in your mug as you push through the horde of people on their way to their jobs as well. You are thankful it is a warm, sunny day, making your journey more bearable.

However, as the large, gray building comes into view, you feel your spirits begin to lift as you bubble with anticipation and excitement. You greet the security guard, something you always did as he would look out for you on your many nights spent late in the office.

Within seconds you were in an elevator, the box carrying you up to the fifthteenth floor where you spend majority of your day reading and typing away and getting to see him.

You spot your target in question preparing a cup of coffee at the beverage station, dressed to the nines. You smile briefly as you get to spend another day with him.

Han Jisung.

Another editor within the office, one that you have worked with on some occasions. His cubicle is right next to yours, where you can hear him typing away or clicking his tongue, a habit you notice he does when he’s frustrated or stressed.

He definitely fit the part, that’s for sure. Jisung always wore nice slacks with casual shirts, the fabric showing off his slim figure, one that you would kill for yourself. His hair was always slicked back with a tendril of hair dangling in his face, making him look cute and irresistible. His cheeks were round, almost full and eyes as big as saucers that shine as bright as the sun whenever he spoke to you. To top off his look, he wore a pair of glasses, the black rims perched perfectly on his button nose.

He was adorable, cute, and infuriatingly smart, so much so that clients would ask for him by name hoping to acquire his excellent services.

The best thing however, or at least to you, was that you knew his biggest secret: that he liked you. You see it in his eyes when he approaches you, the way he bites his bottom lip as he considers his next words that usually comes out in a jumble of nonsense. You see it in his gestures, how he lightly places a hand on your lower back as he ushers you into the meeting room or the elevator, a gentle smile on his round face.

On many occasions, Jisung has also brought you coffee, fixed just how you like with cream and no sugar and not too hot that you’d burn your tongue. Yes, Han Jisung likes you and does a terrible job at hiding it, but this just delights you more as it makes it easier to tease him and occasionally flirt with the man.

Because let’s face it, you like him too.

“Good morning y/n!” Jisung says cheerily, peeping over the divider that separates your desk from his. “Have a good weekend?”

“Morning Ji, I did,” you say with a smirk, not missing the blush that creeps up his cheeks at the nickname you gave him.

“Uh…t…that’s good,” he squeaks before disappearing from view to sit down.

You snicker and log in to pull up your calendar for the day. It’s a pretty light day for a Monday, with the meeting with the new client being the only time consuming task on your list.

“Let’s knock this out,” you think as you pull up the last work you were editing before the weekend began.

It was easy to get lost in the paragraphs, your eyes carefully roaming line after line, making sure thoughts were complete and grammar was perfect, making suggestions where you saw fit. This story was a good one, a thriller that left you hanging by a thread as you contemplated who stole the precious jewels from the centuries old manor.

You were just about to finish up the second to last chapter when there was a soft knock, the noise startling you out of your little world you were just in. You peered over your shoulder to see Jisung gazing at you shyly, a cup of coffee in his hands.

“Thought you may need this,” he said and quickly walked over to your desk to set it down.

“Thanks, I could definitely use the caffeine,” you said as you rubbed your eyes.

Jisung chuckled but the laughter quickly died down as he watched you bring the cup to your lips and take a sip, your eyes closing as you savored the warm drink. He was whipped, completely and utterly whipped.

He remembers the first day you started working here, all confidence and smiles, completely stealing his heart. You were absolutely stunning with your long hair and beautiful body that he’d love to reach out and touch. Does your skin feel as soft as it looks? Does every inch of you smell as sweet as your perfume that he gets whiff of every morning when you walk in the office?

Jisung believes it all to be true.

He finds little opportunities throughout the day to speak to you or be near you, the latter not hard as your desk was next to his merely separated by a thin divider. The only issue is he clams up whenever he gets near you, his pulse quickens and sweat beads his brow, his hands feel clammy and he’s sure he sweats through his shirt.

He nearly passes out whenever you tease him, give him fleeting glances, or when you purr at him, your voice soft and sweet drifting through his ears like silk. Yes, he’s whipped for you.

Jisung doesn’t think you know of his crush on you, at least he hopes you don’t. He’d be devastated and embarrassed, so he really hopes he’s not obvious in his encounters with you. Besides, there’s no way you would like him back, especially with the secret he has.

“Earth to Jisung!” You say, snapping him out of his reverie.

He blinks and shakes his head, noticing the smirk that’s plastered on your face as you grip the coffee cup tightly. He feels his cheeks heat up and his heart race at his negligence.

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” He murmurs as he shifts his weight from side to side.

“I asked how is the project going?”

“Oh, pretty good. Mrs. Newman is pretty pleased with the edits so far and has been prompt with her responses. I think I’ll be done with the first edit by the end of the week.

You nodded and seemed pleased. He definitely didn’t want to seem incompetent in your eyes. He loved his job, loved helping others achieve their dreams of writing and publishing a book, it was no easy feat after all.

“Good, good. You were a good match for her,” you said.

“I think so too.”

“Well, I should get back to work. I have a deadline coming up myself. Thanks for the coffee and chat.”

Jisung nodded and watched as you swiveled to face your computer, your fingers tapping away at once on the keyboard. He took a deep breath and let it out before walking back to his desk and settling in, pulling his laptop close to get to work. Jisung will find a way to get to know you better. He’ll need to be on the look out for anything going on the weekend so that you two could hang out. — — You sigh as you come across a particular tough spot in the paragraph, your fingers tapping on your desk as you pondered if you liked the sentence structure. You took a sip of the coffee Jisung brought you, draining the last of it in one go. It was thoughtful of him to bring you a cup, especially since it helped revive you a little.

He was definitely trying to find a way to talk with you, that much you knew and you’re pretty sure he was thinking about you. You remembered the glazed look he adapted on his face as he stared at you, watching you take sips of coffee in between words. You loved watching him in these moments, wondering what part of you he was thinking about. Was it your hair? Your outfit? Your body? Maybe one day you’d find out.

Until then, you had a novel to finish editing and it wasn’t going to happen by itself. However, a quick look at your watch made you think otherwise, as you had to make it to your meeting. Saving your work, you gathered your laptop and hurried to the meeting room, smiling as you noticed your new client was already seated.

You closed the door and settled down before beginning your speech on how you work, deadlines, and what to expect if you take them on. Your client seemed impressed and enthusiastic, wanting to sign right away. You gladly accepted and produced the documents they’d need to sign.

Once the meeting was over, you bid your leave and left to go back to your desk, a soft smile on your face. Another client and another successful day. You were very pleased and wanted to celebrate, but didn’t know what you could do.

As you approached your desk, you noticed a folded up piece of paper, your name written in sloppy yet neat letters. Opening up the paper, you noticed it was a note, a short message scribbled on the lines.

‘Y/n, how would you like to go to a party with me this weekend? -Jisung’

You grinned as your heart skipped a beat. What was this, middle school? You found it cute however, knowing he probably wrote the note over a few times before settling on what is now written.

Sitting down, you grabbed a pen and wrote ‘yes’ in delicate letters before folding it back up and then sliding it through the crack in the wall. You heard Jisung jump and then a rustle of paper. There was silence for a moment and then a little yelp. You chuckled to yourself as he must have been shocked by your answer.

You began to check your emails when you heard a soft knock behind you and then a little cough.

“Um, y/n?”

You turned around in your chair and eyed the man standing in the entrance way. He turned his gaze upwards as he took a breath and then let out it.

“About this weekend, the party is on Friday. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

“Sounds good Ji,” you said with a smile.

Jisung made a sound in the back of his throat and backed away, running into the wall in the process. You tried not to laugh as he quickly scurried away in embarrassment. This weekend was perfect as you wanted to celebrate your success of the week and a party was the perfect place to do so.

Jisung was nervous. He’s already had to change his shirt twice due to the sweat that kept accumulating on his skin. However, he willed himself to get it together and so far, everything has been good. He checks his outfit in the mirror, satisfied with the slim fitted shirt he chose with his jeans and sneakers.

He fixed a stray piece of hair and grabbed his wallet and keys and was about to head out of the door before he stopped in his tracks, forgetting to let the other member of the household know he was leaving. They were no where in sight and time was passing by. He’d be late if he wasted any more time, so he found a piece of paper and scribbled a quick note stating where he was going.

Leaving the note on the kitchen table, Jisung left the penthouse and made his way to his car. The ride to your apartment was not long as you lived only twenty minutes away. As Jisung pulled up, he spotted you standing in front of your building, your head turning left and right as you looked out for his car.

As Jisung parked the car by the curb, he took a moment to take you in. You were beautiful in your outfit, more stunning than ever. His mouth hung open as he eyed your curves, accentuated by the dress you were wearing. He felt a warmth in his belly, the blood rushing down to his cock.

Jisung took a deep breath and let it out, trying to calm himself. The last thing you needed to see as you got in his car was his soon to be boner. As you opened the car door, a rush of cool air filled the car, rustling Jisung’s hair as you got in.

“Hey Ji. Don’t you look nice,” you purred as you settled in.

“Th..thanks,” Jisung muttered as he focused his attention on the road.

He carefully pulled away from the curb and began to drive, his hands holding the steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were turning white.

You took an opportunity to look at the man next to you, eyeing how he had an iron grasp on the wheel and little beads of sweat on his forehead. The poor boy was nervous you could tell and that delighted you.

‘Tonight was going to be fun,’ you thought as you adjusted yourself on the seat, your dress riding up your thighs slightly.

You smirked as you heard Jisung inhale softly, his hands squeezing the wheel even tighter. He didn’t say anything the whole ride, which was fine to you as you came up with your game plan.

As Jisung pulled up to your destination, you couldn’t help but be in awe of the house. There was a large lawn sprawling with people, some hanging around and chatting, others dancing as music poured out of the house. Jisung helped you out of the car and guided you to the entrance, his hand warm on your lower back.

Inside, the place was crowded, with people packed everywhere. Music blared from speakers hidden somewhere in the house, the base so loud, the house felt like it was vibrating. The atmosphere was electrifying you had to admit and you could feel the excitement brewing, as you were ready to let go and enjoy the night.

Jisung guided you further within the crowd until you approached the kitchen, his eyes on the spread of liquor that was on the counter.

“What would you like?” He asked, turning to face you with a questioning gaze.

“Hmm, rum and coke please Ji.”

Jisung nodded and walked over to the table and grabbed a cup. He swiftly made your drink and handed it to you which you accepted graciously. Taking a sip, you relaxed as it burned down your throat and settled nice and warm in your stomach. Jisung grabbed his drink and faced you with a big grin on his face.

“So…”

“Jisung! You made it!”

You turned toward the new voice, deep but loud in the crowd. A blond haired man with a wide grin bounded up to you two, his eyes sparkling even in the dim lighting.

“Felix,” Jisung replied sheepishly.

“And who is this? Wait, don’t tell me this is the famed y/n!”

You regarded Felix for a moment, scrutinizing his face and taking in the freckled that littered his baby face. Then you turned to Jisung and stared at him questioningly with your eyebrows raised.

Jisung blushed and looked down before clearing his throat.

“Yes it is. Felix this is y/n, y/n this is Felix.”

“I knew it! Wow, they really are gorgeous. I mean look at you, you are absolutely stunning in that outfit!”

You smiled and thanked Felix, relaxing in his presence. How could you not with his sunshine personality.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it. Nice to meet you y/n and talk to you later Jisung.”

Felix turned on his heels and scurried away, blending in with the crowd.

“Sorry about that. Felix can be….very enthusiastic.”

“That’s okay Ji, he seemed nice,” you replied with a gentle smile letting Jisung know it was okay.

He smiled back and then gestured to the dance floor. “Wanna dance?”

“Mhmm. Let’s finish our drinks and maybe grab one more or two and then go?”

“Sure thing. Whatever you want,” Jisung said as he stepped closer to you.

You downed the rest of your drink and poured yourself another. It wasn’t long before you felt a little tipsy, your body feeling light and the man in front of you seeming even more appealing. Jisung kept up with you and you could tell he was a little tipsy as well.

With each passing moment, he scooted closer to you, his big boba eyes on you, taking you in. He really was gorgeous with his heart shaped lips and muscular frame. Your eyes kept darting down to what looked like a tattoo peeking out of his shirt. You wondered what it was of, the design seeming intricate from what you could visualize.

His voice was like honey, sweet to your ears as he spoke, chatting away about something or another. You honestly stopped paying attention ages ago, opting to stare at the man in front of you and memorize his features so you could lock it into your brain.

Jisung was rambling, he knew he was as he was nervous, his heart pounding in his chest. He was definitely not sober anymore, his head feeling like it was floaty and more words spilling out of his mouth. You were staring at him, your eyes darting around his face as if you were looking for something. He took sip after sip of his drink and kept talking. Damn, why couldn’t he shut up.

He could tell you weren’t paying attention but you continued to listen to him, bringing your drink to your lips to take a sip. He felt his heart flutter each time, his mind wandering to how your lips would feel on his. Maybe he could find out? You seemed interested and you both were slowly gravitating towards each other as the tension rose between you two.

Jisung watched you down your drink and he did the same. He took your cup and set it aside along with his. As the music continued to play and those around you danced, shouted, and laughed, he walked closer to you. So close he could feel the heat radiating off of your body, feel your warm breath on his face laced with the scent of the coconut rum that you were just drinking.

He swallowed before closing the gap and pressing his lips to yours, softly, gently, the music fading out as he focused on you. You eagerly responded as you wrapped your arms around his neck and his around your waist, pulling you even closer until his body was pressed against yours.

Your fingers drifted through the little hairs at his neck, teasing and pulling as Jisung deepened the kiss. The music played, people talked, but you two paid no attention. Time passed as you two made out, the tension growing, the tendrils wrapping around you two and the heat rising.

You let out a moan against his lips as he pressed his knee against your pussy, applying the slightest pressure that made your body tingle with pleasure. He did it again and again until you were gasping, whimpering ‘please’ over and over, you body grinding against him. You could feel his bulge, nice and thick, as he rocked his hips into you, his breath coming out in puffs of air as he nipped at your lips.

Jisung pulled away to rest his forehead against yours before murmuring, “Let’s find somewhere quiet yeah?”

He pulled away and grabbed your hand to guide you away from the kitchen, through the crowd and up the stairs until you got to a hallway. You could tell he was in a hurry, desperate to get you alone and devour you. Door after door he tried until one opened, the space dark and empty.

Jisung pulled you in and slammed the door, locking it behind him. He didn’t bother with the lights but instead pulled you to the bed before bending you over until you front pressed against the soft sheets.

You could hear him panting, the sound of his zipper and pants lowering. You felt his hands on your back, his fingers drawing patterns only he knew down your spine until he got to your ass. You yelped as his hand came down on the flesh, before the fabric was lifted to expose you.

“Damn baby, so wet,” he murmured, his fingers touching and pressing against your soaked panties.

You were wet, incredibly so. But how could you not be with how he has been teasing you, touching you, kissing you. You needed him and you weren’t too shy or proud to beg.

“Fuck me Ji,” you cooed getting on your hands and knees so you could look back at him.

Your eyes drifted down to his cock, now in his hands as he slowly stroked the shaft. He was average length but thick, his hand barely able to wrap around his length. You smiled as he stepped closer, his free hand reaching out to drag your panties down your thighs.

“Spread your legs baby,” he said as he stared at your pussy, his eyes widening as he watched your labia spread open with the movement.

He groaned as he watched a string of your arousal drip down, his mind going crazy at how beautiful you were.

“Pretty pussy,” he groaned as he brought his tip to your entrance, brushing it up and down your folds and gathering your slick on his cock.

Your breath caught as you felt the tip breach your entrance, his length spreading you open. You breathed in and out, in and out, willing yourself to relax as he pushed in, slowly inch by inch until he was fully sheathed inside you. He stilled, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back and your ass.

You felt full, the pain turning you on even more. “Move Ji, please,” you begged, needing to feel him even more.

Jisung didn’t wait any longer but instead pulled back until he was almost out and then slammed his hips into yours, causing you to shriek. He adapted a fast pace, his hands griped your ass tight, his fingers digging into your skin so hard you knew it would leave a mark.

He fucked you hard and fast, his moans tumbling from his lips as he chanted your name. God you felt good, your pussy wrapped around him, pulling him in with each thrust. Jisung glanced down, watching his cock slide in and out of your pussy, your ass jiggling as his pelvis collided with the flesh.

He wasn’t going to last long, but by the sound of it, he could tell you weren’t either.

“Ah Ji!” You moaned as you felt your orgasm build, the familiar warmth building and spreading slowly but steadily throughout your core.

“Come with me baby, please, please,” Ji whimpered as he increased his pace even more, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room mixed with the cacophony of both of your moans.

As he gripped you harder, you let go, your high hitting you hard. Your cries were music to Jisung’s ears and your walls pulsing around his cock pushed him over the edge. He let out a loud groan as he filled you with his cum, stilling his hips so you could take it all.

Your high slowly ebbed away and you began to feel tired, exhaustion taking over from the mixture of alcohol and your orgasm. Your eyes fluttered as you felt Jisung withdraw his cock, his cum seeping out of your hole.

You were in and out of consciousness, only slighly aware of him cleaning you up and redressing your lower half. You felt him lay you down on your side gently, the bed dipping as he moved to lay down next to you. Before you slipped off into a deep sleep, you felt his arms wrap around your waist, his thumb rubbing circles into your hips.

And everything went black.

Your head was pounding, the pain radiating across your skull and to your eyes. You felt sore all over. What the hell happened? You willed your brain to catch up, to think back to the night before. You went to a party with Jisung and you both talked and kissed and he fucked you.

Your eyes flew open, an action you immediately regretted as the bright light of the room blinded you and sent a sharp pain throughout your head. You groaned and slowly opened your eyes again only to be met with Jisung who was perched on the side of you, his eyes on you as he stared intently.

“Ji?” You questioned, wondering why he was looking at you like he was fascinated and in awe of you.

The more you looked at him however, you noticed some things were off. His eyes were slightly larger, the brown orbs that you’ve come to love baring down on you as if he was staring into your soul. His hair was different too as it seemed shorter and straighter.

“Are you okay?” Jisung asked as he continued to gaze at you.

You eyed the man next to you, who seemed completely fine and not affected by last nights activities. You took the opportunity to quickly look around, taking in the large space before you. You were lying on a couch, the cushions soft and comfy. There were large windows on the far end of the room, the sunlight pouring in and causing your headache to get worse.

“I got you some water and painkillers,” Jisung said as he grabbed a bottle of medicine and a cup filled with water.

He shook out two of the pills and handed them to you followed by the glass. You accepted the items and tipped the pills into your mouth and gulped down the water, the liquid sliding down nicely as you were parched.

“I’ll make you some breakfast once you’re ready.”

You stared at him as he smiled at you, the action seeming so…mechanic. Something seemed off about him. Why wasn’t he suffering from a hangover like you? Why did he seem so…robotic?

“Okay…” you said cautiously as you gripped your glass tighter.

You adjusted yourself on the couch, jumping slightly as Jisung scooted even closer to you. What the hell is going on?

“Ji, what are you…”

But your words died down as Jisung rounded the corner, his hair wet after a shower. He had on sweat pants and a t-shirt, and was pulling a hoodie over his head as he walked.

You looked at the man kneeled next to you and then to Jisung who was coming closer with a smile on his face when he noticed you were awake. You must be dreaming…you had to be because there were two Jisung in front of you and that is just not possible.

“What the hell is going on?” You shrieked as you jumped off the couch, the jisung who was next to you toppling over onto the floor. “There’s two of you?!”

“Y/n! Wait! I can explain!” The other Jisung pleaded, his eyes large and worry etched on his face.

You shook your head and looked for your bag and shoes. Finding them, you grabbed them and ran for the door, your fingers fumbling on the locks. You needed to get out of here and fast because you were obviously losing your mind.

“Please, y/n! Please let me explain. There are two of us! This is my clone y/n. please don’t leave.”

You froze in place as you listened to Jisung’s words. His clone? The fuck. Is that even possible? No, definitely not. This wasn’t some sci-fi movie. You jumped as you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Slowly you turned around to see who you assumed was the original Jisung look at you with pleading eyes. The other Jisung, the clone was standing next to the couch, their gaze locked on you once more.

“Please…” Jisung softly said, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

You were curious, wondering how this was possible. There was only one way to find out and that was to hear Jisung out.

“Okay.” — — A little while later, you were perched nervously on the edge of a bar stool in his expansive kitchen, as he sat in front of you and the clone standing rod straight next to both of you. You sat silently waiting, as you sure as hell wasn’t going to be the one to start this conversation. Jisung seemed to be considering something or pondering how he wanted this to go as his face was scrunched up, his teeth biting his bottom lip over and over.

Finally he looked up and took a breath before saying, “First, welcome to my penthouse. We were both pretty intoxicated last night so I had him pick us up.”

You briefly glanced at the clone but quickly looked away as he was giving you a gentle smile.

“This is my clone, I call him J. He was special made as I was curious as to how it would be with a clone. I love it and think everyone should have one, I mean look how handy he was last night.”

You had no idea that there were people out there buying clones for their personal use, the thought only in books and movies, or so it seemed. But here one was, an exact replica of Jisung, the man you’ve worked with for years.

“You know I like you y/n, I mean how can I not. You’re smart, funny, and absolutely stunning. And it got me thinking, maybe you can be not only my partner but J’s too, yeah? What do you say?”

Date both of them, two Jisung’s? You felt a little uneasy, the concept new and foreign but there was a slight appeal to it as well. Two lovers, both the same person, same body…same mind?

You looked up to see a hopeful look on Jisung’s face, his big boba eyes wide and staring into your eyes, his lips slightly parted in anticipation of your answer. You then turned to catch J’s gaze, how he was staring at you intently, seeming to anticipate your answer as well. This was definitely an odd situation, but you liked odd and were always willing to try new things.

You gave a brief nod and Jisung jumped up excitedly to pull you into a bone crushing hug. You giggled at his enthusiasm and wrapped your arms tightly around him as well. Your hug was cut short however, as Jisung pulled away just to crush his lips to yours in a passionate kiss.

You melted against him, playing with the tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck, smirking against his lips as he let out a low groan. His body was pressed against yours, his cock semi hard against your thigh causing your pussy to clench in want.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom hmm?” Jisung purred.

It was a flurry of movement as you both rushed to his room, your eyes darting to each room you passed. You didn’t hear J behind you, hot on your heels until you all were in Jisung’s room. You were pushed onto the plush bed, Jisung pouncing on you in the next moment, his hands everywhere as he attempted to get your clothes off.

As he was pressing wet kisses to your neck and squeezing your breasts, you couldn’t help but noticed J standing in the corner, his eyes full of lust on you.

“Umm Ji, what about him?” You asked as you attempted to push Jisung away.

“Don’t worry about him baby, let’s let him watch yeah?”

Let him watch? You eyed the man standing in the corner and took in his stance, his mouth slightly parted and a bulge starting to form in his sweats. As J bit his lip, you let out a moan succumbing to the predicament you found yourself in.

You turned your attention back to Jisung, who at some point had removed his clothes, his toned chest and dusky brown nipples present. Your eyes roamed his chest and landed on his tattoos, delicately placed on his chest which made you gasp. You ran your fingers over the designs, watching as Jisung let out a shaky breath, his eyes closing as you touched him.

“Mmm feels so good,” he sighed as he opened his eyes to find yours.

“Yeah? My pussy feels even better,” you cooed, smiling as you watched him stroke his cock, his wrist enveloping the head with a squelch.

Jisung pushed your legs apart and sheathed himself inside you in one fluid motion before he set the pace, snapping his hips sharp but slow, so his cock could reach deeper within your walls. You cradled him to your chest as he let out a whimper, playing with his hair as you eyed J in the corner.

You smiled as you caught his bottom lip trembling, his eyes wide as he watched Jisung fuck you, his hands reaching down to grip at his cock within his pants. However, he’d quickly drop them to his side as if he were in trouble, his eyes sparkling as tears formed in them.

“Come here J,” you said, your heart going out to the clone.

J scrambled over quickly and stopped at the edge of the bed, his eyes on yours as you bit your lip. He felt like he was going crazy as he stared at your beautiful face, scrunched up in pleasure. His cock was hard and leaking and he wanted nothing more than to be inside you. Maybe if he’s good, Jisung will let him fuck you, make you scream his name instead.

“Stand there and watch J, watch as I fuck our girl.”

J let out a whimper but watched nonetheless as Jisung thrusted within you over and over. You were close, the thought of J coming in his pants at the sight of you being fucked spurring you on as you felt your high build, steadily until you let go, your pussy spasming around Jisung’s cock.

“That’s it baby, cream around my cock,” Jisung grunted before he crashed his lips to yours.

He kissed you gently, lazily as he came inside you, rocking his hips into you, causing you to whine out at the feeling of his warm cum coating your walls. Once he emptied the last of his cum within you, he withdrew with a smirk, his eyes traveling down to your pussy, stuffed with his seed.

“They’re all yours J,” Jisung said as he stepped aside, sliding his pants back on quickly just to sit on the bed, placing your head on his lap.

J slid his sweats and boxers off, his cock finally free from its confines. You smirked as you took in his length, thick just like the real Jisung and leaking with precum. He stepped between your legs and focused his gaze on your pussy, his eyes dilating at the sight of your engorged clit, red and puffy as your slick mixed with Jisung’s cum slid down your ass.

“Go on J, touch em, make em feel good,” Jisung said from behind you.

J slowly reached a finger out and pressed it to your clit, his cock twitching as you moaned. He applied more pressure and began to circle the bud, his eyes on yours as you succumbed to the pleasure. You whimpered as his finger slipped from how wet you were, the sensation ebbing briefly before returning as he was eager to continue pleasuring you.

Jisung grinned as he watched his clone touch you, proud that he was letting his instincts take over. However, he wanted you squirming under his grasp and begging, so he urged J to go ahead and fuck you, to make you feel really good.

You eagerly watched as brought his cock to your entrance and pushed, a loud groan falling from his lips. He felt good, just like Jisung, the thought driving you insane. He began to thrust his hips, albeit sloppily at first before finding a good rhythm.

Steady moans left your lips as J fucked you and Jisung played with your breasts, brushing his fingers against your nipples and sending shocks of pleasure through your body. You watched J’s face, taking in his eyes, wild with lust. His eyes were glued to where his cock was disappearing into your hole, mesmerized by how you were sucking him in.

He suddenly brought his finger to your clit once more and rubbed hard and fast, grinning as you squealed and squirmed, the sensation becoming too much. However, Jisung held you tight against him, so you had no where to run, leaving you at the mercy of J’s cock and fingers.

It didn’t take long for your orgasm to hit, your release gushing out at the overstimulation as J didn’t slow down but instead picked up the pace as he chased his high. His moans rose in pitch until he let out a deafening groan, stilling his hips against yours as he released himself within you, his breath heavy as he closed his eyes in ecstasy.

“So good,” Jisung murmured in awe as he watched the two of you come down from your highs. “Let’s get you cleaned up yeah?”

You laid there as both men took care of you, closing your eyes as they cooed and pressed sweet kisses to your cheeks, lips, neck, until you were clean. Jisung tucked you into bed and pressed a kiss to your head before you drifted off to sleep, completely exhausted from the afternoons activities.

And so your life changed, your routine looking different now. Instead of waking up alone, you had either Jisung or J next to you, sheathing their cocks within your walls and rutted into you slowly as they whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

You left for wrk with Jisung, both of you discussing your projects and clients, and spending late nights together just to go home to find a warm meal waiting, cooked by none other than J himself. You became used to the clone around the house, finding the subtle differences between the two men to distinguish between them, such as the way J walked with long strides but yet cautious, his movements always seeming mechanical.

Jisung showed you how to update the clone, to ensure his hardware ran smoothly, and wouldn’t malfunction. He answered all of your questions and was patient with you, always showering you with kisses afterwards. Every time you asked him about where he got the clone made however, Jisung would dodge the question, changing the subject immediately. You found that odd, but maybe he was sparing you from the details due to the process.

You lived a life in luxury, getting used to the views from the penthouse, watching the sunrise from the balcony on days off, succumbing to the seduction of your boyfriends as they made love to you as you watched. You couldn’t believe the turn of events, having everything you could have ever wanted in your career and love life.

But, you always knew to accept things at face value, to understand that after many sunny days, storms will come.

Both Jisung and J were out, shopping for the month as they always do, leaving you behind to have some time to yourself. You were browsing the shelves in Jisung’s office, gazing at the many books that you knew were only there for show. There were some good titles there however, and you felt sad that they had never been touched or opened so others could get lost within its pages.

You came across an interesting looking title and pulled it from the shelf, deciding settle in and read while the boys were gone. Surely Jisung wouldn’t mind you borrowing one of his books right?

You made yourself some tea and settled into the couch, draping a blanket across your legs and opened the book, just for a bunch of papers to slide out. Startled, you froze for a moment, slightly panicking that you had ruined the book. The longer you stared at the pages however, you noticed that it seemed like a document of sorts, one that seemed pretty important.

But why was it tucked away in a book and not in a folder?

You picked up the papers and read over its contents, disbelief filling you as you came to realize what it was.

“Take this clone in exchange for your services…” “They will be sitting at the cafe this Sunday in jeans and a black shirt…” “Must be discreet.” “Clone can help you on future jobs.”

What was this? A meeting of some sort that had to be done in secret? You shifted the pages to look at the others, and what you saw made your jaw drop.

“Jenna…Angela…Mia…Jason…Silas…”

Name after name you read, the horror spread within. This was a diary, one to remember all of the names of his victims. The answers all fell in place as you continued to read, how if Jisung took care of these people, how he would be rewarded with a state of the art clone, one that only a billionaire could afford.

Jisung was a hitman.

You were astounded, not sure what to think or say. No wonder he would always dodge your questions when you asked how he got the clone. The clone was a gift for blood.

You heard voices outside in the hall and quickly scrambled to gather the papers up. However, Jisung walked in the door followed by J and saw the horrified expression on your face.

“Baby what’s…” but before he could finish the sentence, his eyes landed on the book in your hand, the papers sticking out haphazardly.

You watched his face drain as he realized you knew his secret, his double life so to say. As he opened his mouth to speak, you held up a hand and threw the book at him, causing both men to scuttle back to avoid being hit.

“What the fuck Ji! You’re a hitman! A murderer! And he’s collateral!” You shrieked.

“I’m sorry baby…I was going to tell you at some point, but it never seemed like the right time!”

“Not the right time?! I think when I asked about his origins would have been the right time but what do I know. And now you’re taking advantage of him, making him come along with you as you do your dirty work. You’re disgusting.”

“Baby please! Please listen to me!”

“No! I’m leaving and I’m taking J with me.”

Yes, you would take the clone, free him from this servitude life. He was innocent in all this, part of a trade. You knew how to keep his hardware up to date as Jisung taught you how, even letting you do it some times. Yes, J was better off with you.

J looked between you and Jisung. He was horrified at the implications, that the man who brought him to his home was such an evil person. He was torn however, not wanting to leave Jisung but wanting to stay with you as well.

He watched as you walked around the penthouse, gathering your clothes and personal effects, Jisung scurrying around behind you, pleading for you to stay. You were having none of it however, as you didn’t even slow down, opting to ignore the pleas of your lover.

J decided he would go with you, keep you company. He could love you just as much as Jisung did. He can provide for you, make sure you’re well cared for and loved. He quickly hurried to his room to pack a few things, making sure to grab all of the essentials he would need.

Once he was done he came out of his room to find you at the door, two large bags in hand with Jisung trying to reason with you. You grinned as you saw J round the corner, bag in hand ready to leave.

“You too?! No! J, you have to stay. Don’t go with them, they don’t know how to care for you like I do,” Jisung begged, a glint of something evil in his eyes.

J is used to this look, one reserved only for him in their most quiet moments, alone, away from prying eyes. However, he let it show in front of you, giving up his charade. J was glad Jisung took notice of you and fell for you, brought you in his life.

He was saved because of you, treated nicely, like he was something more than an object that was made in a lab somewhere. He scrambled to your side and followed you out the door, the screams of Jisung following close behind as he shouted obscenities at the two of you.

You didn’t stop however, but continued to walk to the end of the hall where an elevator was waiting. You let out a sigh as the door closed shut and looked over at J who was gripping his bag with an iron grasp.

“It’ll be okay, we’ll go to my place,” you said.

J merely nodded and continued to stare ahead. You both quickly walked to your car and got in, neither one of you looking back as you drove away. You passed the fancy buildings where only the rich lived until you arrived in the not so safe part of town, your apartment building coming into view.

You both scurried into your place, setting your bags down in relief, happy to be away from that situation of a man.

“I will call the authorities,” you said as you held up the book, filled with the proof you’d need to turn Jisung in.

You didn’t care what happened to him, all that you know is you want him to pay for the crimes he committed, the lives that he snuffed out all for a clone, as if they were nothing.

Once the deed was done you sat down and smiled, looking around your familiar safe space, your items all in place, just how you like it. — —

It was easy to fall back into your routine, the kind that you thrived on, that made you feel sane. The only difference now was that J joined you in your everyday activities, caring for you, loving you, and becoming your second half.

You couldn’t be more happier as your simple life fell back in place, all with J by your side.

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee @hwanghyunjinismybae @channiesrightasscheek @skzdreamer13

Divider by @saradika-graphics

[monakisu]

about saiki kusuo...

he's a leo.

he's incredibly tidy. if his parents leave the house in a mess, he'll complain but proceed to deep-clean it anyways.

he's a stickler for other people's safety. if he notices someone's shoelace is untied, he'll tie it for them, regardless of the circumstances (ie. smack-dab in the middle of a sports game)

on another note, he seems to have a fixation with tying people's shoelaces for them.

he's weak for sweets in general, not just coffee jelly. sweet tooth saiki!

he has a huge soft spot for kids. this probably stems from his failed childhood friendship with akechi.

he's scared of bugs because he can't read their minds. this implies that powerless!saiki might be a lot shyer, more anxious, and even pricklier, since he doesn't know what anybody's thinking.

he's totally a mama's boy. he learned his moral compass from her, does whatever she wants, believes he was born an esper to protect her, etc.

also, the notorious zebra print blazer was because of his mom.

he's so much of a people-pleaser that he'll sacrifice his desire for anonymity and normalcy; he'll insert himself into situations, stalk people, and use his powers even if it means the spotlight will fall on him.

not only is he a people-pleaser, he's a drama queen. he'd rather concoct elaborate plans to avoid somebody instead of simply rejecting them.

he's a one piece fan.

his favorite arcade game used to be whack-a-mole, and he thought destroying all the moles meant he'd won. he was banned because of this.

his glasses are colored glasses from his childhood toy box. wording implies that he's been wearing this same pair his whole life.

he likes baking/cooking, mostly because he gets to eat the sweets that he made. (househusband saiki... heh.)

he smiled a lot more freely as a kid. when he wasn't wearing a dazed expression, he looked like quite the cheerful child.

he helps kaido out with classwork by simply handing him his own work.

he rarely gets sick, and when he does he can cure himself by turning his body into an inferno through pyrokinesis. however, this means he knows next to nothing about medicine.

similarly, he's tragically naïve about the internet.

he's good at singing and likes karaoke (preferably singing by himself).

like kaido, he gets seasick. however, he fervently denies this. he seems to think himself impervious of the maladies regular people suffer from.

he has a bit of a girly run.

he likes using takahashi as a joke. "it's everyone's favorite, takahashi." he also hates takahashi because of his strong resemblance to akechi's childhood bully, takashi.

he likes hot baths.

when he walks home from school, he follows this routine: he stops at the convenience store, picks up coffee jelly, puts it back on the shelf, then continues home. ...incredible. he seems incapable of not staring at any nearby coffee jelly.

he may be willing to downplay his smarts/talents to avoid trouble, but he'll get competitive when he's with akechi or kusuke.

he's hesitant to cause his friends any harm, but will freely maim toritsuka, so long as the damage is immediately reversed.

he won't hesitate with kusuke, though.

lastly, and most importantly:

he's a cutie patootie <3

[bones4thecats]

Hello! If you're still doing requests, could I ask for a angst (or fluff if you think that it works better) of Leona, Vil, Malleus, and/or Lilla (if I could do 4) reacting to Male!Reader having the Unique Magic of a Empathic Healer. This spell would allow the reader to heal any and all wounds inflicted on whom he's trying to healing. However, rather than creating blot to patch up the wounds, they are instead transferred onto the Reader, making it like he was the one that got the wound instead. He is well aware of the dangers and still can't stop himself because he hates people being hurt if he had the power to stop it.

I hope that this was good! Thank you for reading it at least!

M! S/O With A Emphatic Healer! UM.

Type of Writing: Request Name: M! S/O With A Emphatic Healer! Unique Magic (UM.) Characters: Leona Kingscholar, Vil Schoenheit, Malleus Draconia, and Lilia Vanrouge Requester: @beawesome04

A/N: This is fairly angsty with fluff at the ending of each, by the way, this is by far one of my best and favorite requests ever received! I loved the prompt and how you described everything! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this!!

P.S.: For Lilia's part, I used his General! Self

⚠️ TW: Swearing, mentions of war and harm ⚠️ Spoilers for: Books 2 and 7 ⚠️

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Male! Reader ; Reader Heals Leona From Overblot

🦁 Leona was sorer than he ever has been in his entire life

🦁 Opening his eyes with a massive groan, he could hear the sounds of crying and whimpers while people both yelled and ordered people in different ways, this large amount of sounds made his ears pucker down towards his skull as his eyesight became clearer

🦁 Looking at the sky, Leona noticed that a small amount of liquid dripped onto his face, making him slightly flinch and fully open his eyes, catching the sight of a large cut forming onto his boyfriend’s forehead

🦁 His eyes widened as he lunged upwards and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest as he asked you what you were doing

" I- I just wanted you to be okay… " " Y'know what your unique magic does to you, Y/N! I may be okay, but you'd be damaged just as badly, you dumbass! " " It's better me than you. " " No! It was my fault for letting my emotions control me so easily, not yours! "

🦁 Leona furrowed his eyebrows as you began to crack and start crying as he held you closely, then he noticed that you had quite a few bruises and burns from no doubt healing others and him

🦁 As his eyesight began to slosh over with tears of his own, he gripped your tighter, minding where you had injuries. And as he noticed you begin to sob harder, his tail wrapped around your leg protectively

" Leona- I mean, Housewarden? " " What? " " Is he alright? " " He'll be fine… but he might need to heal himself. I’ll take 'em to the nurse. " " You better get fixed up yourself, Leona! " " Yeah, yeah… "

🦁 Looking down at your frail form, Leona sighed internally. What did he, a lazy and arrogant second-born prince, do to deserve your caring and comforting self?

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Male! Reader ; Reader Helps Heal Others From A Poison-Blast

👑 Vil knew that you cared for others, and he also would scold you whenever you would end up in some bad spots because of your care for others. But this was too far

👑 He understood that other students outside of certain dorms, Pomefiore and Diasomnia, weren’t the best when it comes to handling poisons and other dangerous concoctions, but this was officially topping any kind of incident he had ever seen before

👑 A second-year had accidentally splashed something into their cauldron which resulted in a poisonous 'bomb' that had affected multiple of the members in their class

👑 And because you hated seeing people being hurt, you had jumped in and began to help others with the poison by using your unique magic

👑 This healed them, but resulted in the poisoning affecting you instead

👑 Now Vil was staring down as you as you drank multiple poison-antidotes in order for your body to heal more naturally

" What were you thinking, Y/N? " " I’m sorry, Vil. But, I couldn’t just watch as they suffered from such pain. You know what my weaknesses are! "

👑 Sighing and running his hands down your bandage-wrapped arms as he sat down next to you, Vil began to hum a small tune that he had heard over the radio a few days prior

👑 He knew you liked this song, and you smiled gently and grabbed his hand, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles. Vil just looked into your eyes and loosened his stance slightly

" Just- don’t get over your head like this again, please… " " I promise on my collection of photo-albums of us. " " Good answer, Meine Liebe. "

( Meine Liebe = German for "My Love" )

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Male! Reader ; Healing Yuu From Leona’s Overblot

🐉 Malleus was not amused when you jumped into the battle against Leona’s overblot state and began to try healing others, as he knew how dangerous your unique magic was to yourself

🐉 He then began to use his magic to levitate others into the healer’s direction, but he tried to get them away from you

🐉 Unfortunately, you had found the injure-ridden magicless prefect, Yuu Sei, on the ground and you began to use your magic faster than Riddle would be to behead someone for taking his strawberry tart

🐉 He looked around and noticed that Yuu was waking as your once-clean frame was being tattered with bruises and scratches alike all from the human

🐉 When he finally was able to pull you away from everyone else, he began to use his own magic to heal you, his eyebrows furrowed as he silently worked away on each cut, bruise, and injury alike

🐉 Once finished, he looked into your eyes and sighed deeply before embracing you tightly as he burrowed his face into your neck and took in your scent

" Why…? " " Why what, Mal? " " Why risk your own life for a human's? " " You and I both know that Yuu has value. One beyond many of us', they make me want to protect them more than any other mortal, well- besides Sebek and Silver, I suppose. "

🐉 He watched as you began to debate with yourself as your injuries faded away second-by-second. A small smile overtook his features as he hugged you again and you embraced him back

" I love you, my Healing Beauty. " " And I love you, my Darling Prince. "

( Men can be beautiful too. Bite me. )

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Male! Reader ; Healing Him During the Fae v. Human War

🦇 Groaning in pain as he held his side while you hid beside him, Lilia felt the slight amount of blood begin to fall from his midsection. These damned mortals were getting more powerful by the second

🦇 Hopefully the others were doing just as well as before… he cannot afford to lose any more men in this treacherous war

🦇 He turned as he heard you move and roll your uniform’s sleeves up as you pushed your butterfly mask aside and began to chant your small unique spell’s name

" Y/N… what- what are you doing?! You know what that damned spell does to you! " " I don’t care at the moment, Lilia. Your health matters more. " " Bullshit! Y/N, I’ll be fine, just step aside and let me- " " Lilia. As your spouse I will heal you, no matter what. "

🦇 Giving in as you stared at him deadly, Lilia watched as your arms began to glow with many symbols of healing, from ones ranging from those in the burning Savannah to ones in your homeland of Briar Valley

🦇 He then watched as the pain began to fade from his side, but he also noticed how you began to look faint. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t feeling bad

" Love, I'm fine now. The bleeding isn’t as bad as before, it should heal faster… take a break- please. " " Alright… "

🦇 Laying back on the tree, Lilia tore open a satchel that was once thrown aside by one of the previous human soldiers, he ran towards you and began to apply both alcohol to his and yours minor wound that was slightly leaking blood before wrapping them in gauze

" Alright, we should be fine now. Do you feel better, Mango? " " Yeah, thanks Lils. " " No problem, Dearest. "

( Fun facts: Butterflies symbolize rebirth, transformation, and the delicate balance between life and death & Mangos are one of a bat’s favorite fruits )