#(in keeping with the prompt I started drawing this WAY too late)

[writingastory]

Headcanons: The Morning After

Prompt: "It’s the first time they’ve woken up together in the same bed, and one partner is mesmerized by the other’s sleeping face—softly watching them wake up, still sleepy and a little disoriented."

Pairings: Xavier x fem!reader; Zayne x fem!reader; Rafayel x fem!reader; Sylus x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive thingies

Genre: "Normal" AU (no Evol, no Wanderers - just normal life)

A/N: I originally wanted to write some angsty, but couldn't bring myself to it. Life's hard enough, let's enjoy some fluff. Hope you enjoy! 💕

🌟 Xavier was still fast asleep by the time you woke up. The sun was tickling your nose in a way it usually did not - and it took you a moment to realize why it felt so strange. You were not in your bed... or your room for that matter.

🌟 Looking around, you found your clothes strewn about the room - and your boyfriend in bed, right by your side, under the blankets. Naked. Just like you.

🌟 A pleasant shiver ran up your spine, images of the night before flickering through your mind. His touches, his kisses - the way you two entangled under the sheets, and became one...

🌟 You smiled and traced the light marks on your skin. Xavier stirred lightly next to you and you couldn't help snuggling into his back, leaving gentle kisses on the back of his neck. Your fingers traced his spine with a feather-light touch, before continuing to draw invisible patterns into his skin.

🌟 He stirred again and rolled onto his other side, facing you. He blinked a few times and scrunched his nose cutely as the light hit his eyes. You giggled and kissed his nose. "Good morning," you whispered, cupping his face gently. He hummed in response, a small smile forming on his lips.

🌟 Xavier was far from ready to start his day. He scooted closer to you and pushed you onto your back slowly, snuggling into your side, his face hidden in your neck as his arms engulfed you carefully - as if you were a precious treasure that would break if he used too much force. His lips found your collarbone, planting soft kisses on the warm skin there.

🌟 "Good morning, indeed..." he mumbled between kisses, his hand finding your thigh, pulling it over his hips to lock you together once more. His one hand gripped your knee to hold your leg in place as his other snaked around the back of your neck to keep you close to him, stealing kiss after kiss from you, each one deeper and more intimate than the one before - and you suddenly had the feeling that you would not leave that bed for a couple more hours...

❄️ Zayne woke up before sunrise - 5 AM sharp, as he did every single day. His internal clock was as precise as a Swiss watch. He jolted slightly as he felt movements next to him; it was a strange feeling to share the bed. The smallest of smiles graced his lips as his eyes fell onto your form in the dim light of your shared bedroom, buried underneath the many blankets.

❄️ He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, his head resting on his hand comfortably. Zayne watched you in silence, enjoying the serenity of the moment. He was in no hurry. You two had been dating for months and decided to go on a last-minute vacation in Snowcrest. Away from friends, family - and work. A well deserved break from life that had gotten just a tad too hectic lately.

❄️ Zayne just loved spending time with you. He had invited you on this vacation for this very reason. You two becoming intimate was not planned - but not unwelcome either. It was simply the perfect addition to a perfect day.

❄️ He scooted closer carefully, trying not to wake you up. He just needed to be closer to you now, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips once again...

❄️ You stirred a bit as his fingers trailed over your exposed neck and shoulders, reaching the edge of the blanket. Slowly, he pushed them off your form, small goosebumps appearing on your warm skin. Maybe it was selfish - he should let you rest for however long you needed to - but...

❄️ His lips followed the path his fingers forged a few moments earlier, leaving tender, loving kisses. He felt your stir once more before your opened your eyes, smiling fondly. "Hey..." your voice was hoarse, still thick from sleep. "Hey," he answered quietly, the tiniest smirk forming on his lips. "What time is it?"

❄️ "Probably around 5 AM," Zayne answered, his lips reaching the small dip between your collarbones. You hummed, your eyes falling shut again. "Why are you awake already? I thought we're on vacation?" A chuckle left your lips, and Zayne continued planting kisses on your soft skin. "We are," he answered, slowly rolling on top of you again. "I just... need another taste."

🎨 The air flowing into the room was fresh and cool, carrying a salty taste from the sea. The long white curtains danced in the light wind, the sunlight streaming through the opened windows. You groaned a bit at the sudden coolness, only then feeling the weight on your back. Rafayel clung to you, snoozing happily, his head resting between your shoulders, his arms tightly wrapped around you.

🎨 He mumbled something incomprehensible and nuzzled your skin gently, littering sleepy kisses over your back. His hands shamelessly started wandering along your body, quickly finding and settling on your breasts, squeezing them gently.

🎨 "Good morning?" you chuckled lightly, not minding the needy fondling. "It is a good morning," he answered, his grin audible in his words, his hands squeezing your mounts again as if agreeing to his statement.

🎨 "Stop that," you giggled, trying to wiggle away from him - unsuccessfully. He deliberately pinned you down with a chuckle, his lips attacking your shoulder and neck. "Why would I? The noises you make are just so cute~"

🎨 He was relentless in his attacks, his kisses turning sultrier and sloppier with every passing minute. "Say," he groaned, pressing his hips against your behind lustfully, "this is not just a vivid dream, is it? And last night..."

🎨 You hummed in pleasure, thinking about the passionate moments you two had shared. "I don't think so," you answered with a light smirk, finally able to roll onto your back. He was above you immediately, his eyes filled with need and longing, as if he was still not sure if you were really there or just a cruel trick his mind was playing on him.

🎨 His lips found yours in a sweet kiss, filled with adoration and gentleness. He looked down at you again before stealing another kiss - the second of many many more that day.

💢 Usually, Sylus was a night-owl, and sleeping during the day. However, after your first time making love... he couldn't bring himself to leave the bed, and so he found himself between the sheets, with you in his arms. His fingers drew lazy patterns into your skin absentmindedly.

💢 Your head rested on his chest as you snoozed peacefully, fully content and safe in his strong and warm embrace. He was so sweet. So gentle. So loving. And now, with the way he held you, sleep had a tight grip on you. You refused to wake up and leave your cocoon of warmth and comfort.

💢 Eventually though, your mind was slowly pulled back to reality, your lids fluttering a few times as you woke up. "Good morning, kitten," he whispered, his deep voice filling the silence in the best way possible. You looked up at him slowly, only then realizing that he was, in fact, still there with you.

💢 "Morning..." you mumbled, rubbing your eyes gently. "Don't you have work...?" You yawned, propping yourself up slowly to look down at him. Sylus shrugged in response, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I can leave, if you want."

💢 You frowned and snuggled back into his side. "No," you said firmly, wrapping yourself around him slowly. "I was just confused for a second."

💢 He chuckled a bit, wrapping his arms around your form again. "That's what I thought," he smiled, kissing your forehead gently. "Luke and Kieran can deal with whatever's going on today. I'm not leaving this bed until you kick me out."

💢 You quirked a brow, grinning slightly. "Is that a promise?" you asked, nuzzling his neck gently before placing a kiss on his skin, right where his pulse was thrumming. Sylus hummed deeply and closed his eyes, pushing his head back and exposing his neck to you and your advances. You grinned and nibbled his skin, carefully at first... but it didn't take long for you to full-on attack his neck with kisses and love-bites. "Kitten," he droned, rolling onto his back with you on top of him, "I hope you intend to finish what you started."

[wolvietxt]

Hey! Could you do Bucky Barnes with this prompt?? 👀

grumpy’s soft side: sunshine accidentally finds grumpy’s secret stash of cute little things they’ve kept as mementos - like a doodle sunshine made or a pressed flower from a walk they took together. grumpy tries to act embarrassed, but sunshine can see the fondness in their eyes.

BUCKY BARNES was many things - grumpy, stoic, and impossible to read most of the time. but sentimental? that didn’t seem to fit, or at least, that’s what you thought.

until today.

it had started innocently enough. bucky had left to grab groceries, grumbling something about you forgetting the eggs, leaving you alone in his apartment. with some extra time on your hands, you decided to tidy up his desk - a cluttered corner of his otherwise neat space.

you knew bucky wasn’t the most organized person. papers and odds and ends were scattered everywhere, some of them clearly years old. while straightening a stack of books, you noticed a small drawer slightly ajar. curiosity got the better of you, and you slid it open, intending to tuck away the loose papers.

instead, you froze.

the contents weren’t what you’d expected.

a tiny doodle you’d drawn months ago sat on top of the pile, the edges a little crumpled but otherwise intact. it was a quick sketch you’d made while teasing bucky - an exaggerated cartoon version of him with a cat on his head. he’d scoffed at it at the time, rolling his eyes, but apparently, he hadn’t thrown it away.

beneath it was a pressed flower, carefully preserved between wax paper. it was from a walk you’d taken one spring afternoon, when you’d playfully tucked the flower behind your ear and teased bucky for being grumpy even on such a beautiful day.

there were other things too: a stray button from his jacket you’d helped sew back on, a photo booth strip from an impromptu outing, and a receipt with your handwriting scrawled across the back.

your heart twisted, warmth spreading through your chest as you took it all in.

bucky barnes, who rarely let his guard down, who always acted like nothing phased him, had been keeping these little pieces of you.

the sound of the front door opening pulled you from your thoughts.

“damn cashier was slower than molasses,” bucky muttered as he walked in, shaking his head. he stopped short when he saw you standing by his desk, the pressed flower in your hand.

his blue eyes narrowed. “what’re you doin’?”

you turned to him, holding up the doodle with a small smile. “you kept all this?”

a flicker of panic crossed his face as he strode over, snatching the drawing from your hand and shoving it back into the drawer. “it’s nothin’,” he mumbled, slamming the drawer shut.

“it’s not nothing, bucky.” you took a step closer, your smile widening. “you kept a doodle, a flower… even a button? this is -“

“don’t say it,” he cut in, pointing a finger at you. “don’t you dare call it cute.”

you bit back a laugh, unable to help the way your eyes sparkled. “but it is cute. bucky, this is adorable.”

his jaw tightened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “it ain’t cute,” he grumbled. “just stuff I didn’t get around to throwin’ out.”

you raised an eyebrow. “a pressed flower isn’t exactly something you ‘forget’ to throw away, buck.”

his gaze darted to the side, avoiding yours. “it doesn’t mean nothin’,” he muttered, his voice quieter now.

“doesn’t mean nothing?” you echoed, stepping closer until you were standing right in front of him. “bucky, it means something to me.”

his eyes flicked back to yours, guarded but softening just a little. “you’re makin’ a big deal outta nothin’, doll.”

“because it is a big deal,” you said, your voice gentle but firm. “you kept these things because they remind you of me, don’t they?”

he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair. “maybe,” he admitted, his tone reluctant. “but don’t go readin’ too much into it.”

your smile softened, and you reached out to place a hand on his arm. “too late. i’m already reading into it.”

he groaned, his cheeks turning the faintest shade of pink. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and you’re a big softie,” you shot back, your grin widening.

he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to look annoyed. but the way his lips twitched betrayed him, the corners tilting upward despite his best efforts.

“fine,” he muttered after a moment, his voice gruff. “maybe i kept ‘em ‘cause they remind me of you. happy now?”

your heart swelled at his quiet admission, and you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “very.”

he froze for a second before letting out another sigh, his arms falling to his sides. “you’re gonna tease me about this forever, aren’t you?”

“oh, absolutely,” you said, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

despite his grumbling, bucky reached out to pull you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “just don’t tell anyone, okay?”

you laughed, resting your head against his chest. “your secret’s safe with me.”

he relaxed a little at that, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“you’re lucky you’re cute,” he mumbled, his voice low but affectionate.

“you’re luckier,” you teased, earning a low chuckle from him.

and as he held you there, the warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart grounding you, you couldn’t help but smile. because as much as he tried to act grumpy, bucky barnes had the biggest heart of anyone you’d ever known.

ᰔ bucky barnes : @notacleangirl, @v3lv3tf0x, @dugiioh, @whxtewolf, @lemoanaid

@yvespecially, @hhiggs, @darlingsoulbeautifulthoughts, @seasonofthenerd, @superlegend216

@withasideofmeg, @pvndomi, @flamin-hot-cheetos, @bbittenapples, @hazydespair

@aoi_targaryen, @person-005, @corvuscattus

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[trashart00]

Ladynoir July 2024, Day 6: Better Late Than Never

@ladynoirjuly

(Flashing images under cut)

First | <- Previous | Next ->

(she’s just a girl your honour!)

[casuallyanidiot]

I think that getting into a situationship with a yandere would be the worst thing ever.

Nsfw themes!

Yandere situationship and you met at a party, and you just kind of hit it off from there. You were both drunker than you probably should have been when you slept with him, but from the blurry bits and pieces you can recall, it was amazing. You remember how much your legs were shaking by the end of it, and you thought that if he was that good then, then you couldn't imagine how good he would be sober.

Yandere situationship who messages you frequently after that. He just wants to know everything about you, and you end up learning more about him as well. You have similar taste in music, shows, food etc. It's almost kind of crazy how well you get along with him. He makes you laugh with barely any effort, he cooks well, and the sex is fucking mind blowing. You'd like to date him, honestly, and you get the feeling that he's kind of prompting you towards that decision, but there's always something that holds you back.

Mainly, that fucker is clingy.

You wouldn't blame him for being a bit clingy or possessive. You might judge him a bit, given the fact that the two of you aren't actually dating yet, but he gets standoffish towards anyone that he deems to be "too flirty".

You try and tell him that you're not talking to anyone else, but you find that it doesn't really matter what you say. It's almost as if he didn't care about that at all, and is rather upset that you would deign to spend time with anyone other than him at all.

Yandere situationship who starts to linger around places you frequent in order to talk to you more. It feels like he wants to integrate himself into your life. He wants to be friends with the people you're friends with, wants to go to the parties you do. Any corner you turn, he's somehow there with a charming smile that ,while it does admittedly creep you out, you can't say no to.

You almost wish that he would properly ask you out instead of trying to just engulf your whole life. Maybe that way you could actually figure out what the fuck you should do about him. You feel like the sensible thing is to turn him down, but he keeps drawing you in with glimpses of what it would be like to have someone who actually cared about you.

It's affecting you badly, too.

Your friends have started to pull away, saying you were too wrapped up in Yandere situationship's bullshit. Maybe you were, but all their harsh words did was push you further and further into his coy smiles and wandering hands. It feels like lately all you can think about is him. You're constantly checking his messages, both out of fear and excitement, to see if he's said something new.

Yandere situationship who shows up at your house, greeting you with a forceful kiss when you try to yell at him for the sudden intrusion. He knows how to press your buttons, to get you right where he wants you to be. It's so frustrating, but it's so easy to just fall into what he's so obviously after.

Yandere situationship who occupies your every waking thought, holding the reward of an actual, committed relationship just out of reach, a grin on his lips the whole while.

Yandere situationship who ruins your personal life so badly, that when he finally asks you out, there's really nothing you can do besides say yes.

[pathologicalreid]

hiii I love ur fics <3 I am OBSESSED with the prompt “can you come get me?” bc h/c makes me 💥💥💥 so I was thinking:

reader has been kidnapped by the latest unsub and the team is trying their hardest to find her but all the leads keep coming up empty until one day Spencer gets a call from her and the first thing she says is “can you come get me?” she sounds extremely upset and afraid so Spencer and Hotch leave to go find her. when they get there, she looks like she’s been through hell so they rush her to the hospital to be checked out, all the while they can’t seem to get any info out of her about what happened.

Spencer & reader could be platonic or romantic, whichever you like. (also I was thinking maybe hotchner!reader ? if that wouldn’t be too many things to ask for lol)

I love how you do angst and h/c, so keep up the good work and have a wonderful day <3

can you come get me? | S.R.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: kidnapping, hospitals, stitches, blood draws, catatonia, disassociation, brief mention of sa, ohio mentioned, general cm violence (let me know if i missed any) word count: 4.56k a/n: i have no idea how this got so long but i love the plot of it so much that i couldn't cut any of it! i'm such a slut for the "you came"/"you called" trope that i couldn't help myself! i wrote this with the idea that it would be in place of the m*eve storyline (which means our lord and savior blake is here)!! anyways anon i hope you enjoy this - i love you!

Any external sound was completely ignored as Spencer flipped through the same file for the eighteenth time that day. In his periphery, he saw JJ and Rossi nod at each other before Rossi split away, walking up the ramp to where Hotch’s office was.

It took him a moment to realize JJ had made herself comfortable by sitting on the edge of his desk. She had her jacket neatly folded in her arms as she eyed the file he had, grief filling her eyes as she registered what he was looking at. “What are you doing tonight?” She asked, trying to keep her voice as light as possible.

The question was entirely pointless, she knew exactly what he was doing tonight, but in an attempt to get her to leave him alone, Spencer humored her, “I’m working late tonight,” he answered simply.

JJ’s smile faltered ever so slightly before she shook her head, “You’ve been working late all week, what if you come over tonight? Will’s making dinner. Garcia’s coming after she finishes her system update,” the attempt to get him out of the office didn’t go over his head, but it wasn’t going to work. “Henry would love to see you – maybe you could teach him a new magic trick.”

Peeling his eyes off of the paperwork, he looked up at the blonde, “You know I can’t.” He felt so close to an answer, he couldn’t possibly leave.

“Look, Reid, I get it, but you’ve been working crazy hours for the past month. Maybe taking a night off would be good. You can start fresh in the morning,” she tried to coax him into leaving the case be.

It hadn’t been a full month; it had been twenty-seven days. Almost four full weeks since you were taken. It had been one week since Section Chief Cruz had told Hotch that the BAU needed to start taking new cases, as the trail to you had run cold.

Considering you were Hotch’s daughter, that discussion had gone rather poorly. Cruz had been able to give the team leeway. Both Spencer and Hotch had fully intended on taking advantage of that leeway, and the rest of the team helped when they had the capacity.

Turning back to your file, Spencer shook his head, “I’ll go if Hotch goes.” He knew there was no way Hotch would be leaving the office tonight, the only reason Hotch went home anymore was for Jack, and he was at a sleepover tonight.

JJ’s shoulders slumped in abject disappointment as her eyes followed Dave as he exited Hotch’s office, the slamming of the door enough to make the lingering BAU agents flinch. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, defeated.

Rossi wagged a finger at Spencer, “Go home at some point tonight, kid,” he instructed.

Waving a quick goodbye, Spencer resumed making notes in the margins of the papers that were making a permanent home on his desk. He looked up when Hotch exited his office, eyes following him as he brewed a pot of coffee in the kitchenette. The two of them acknowledged each other with a nod before continuing on with the hunt.

Both of them knew the odds, that you had been gone this long and there was a good chance that they’d never see you again. Despite that, Spencer would head up to Hotch’s office in about an hour, and the two of them would confer.

Eventually, the sun set, and a thunderstorm rolled in, the flashes of light coming in through the windows as he began to consider going for another cup of coffee.

Wiping a hand down his face, he inwardly groaned as his phone started to ring. Half expecting it to be JJ, he was surprised to find that it was an unknown caller. Clicking the answer button, he lifted the phone to his ear, “Hello, this is Dr. Reid.”

There was an eerie silence on the other end of the call, if he strained his ears, he could hear the pattering of rain. He tried to greet the other person again, but when there was no answer, he started to lower the phone to hang up.

“Can you come get me?” Your quiet voice came through the receiver, effectively knocking the wind out of Spencer’s lungs.

Fiddling with his belongings, Spencer gripped your file, “Where are you?” He asked urgently.

You sniffled, “I don’t know. A payphone off of twenty-eight.” If he strained his ears, he could listen to the rain. Spencer wondered if he could calculate how far away you were by the sound of the thunder where you were compared to where he was.

His chest ached at the exhaustion in your tone, imagining you had gotten approximately as much sleep as he had recently. That is to say, little to none. Pulling the phone slightly away from his face, he called out for Hotch, getting his attention and waving him over. “Y/N, can you see any mile markers or exit signs anywhere?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone back up to his ear.

“I can’t see much of anything,” you admitted. That made sense, your glasses had been recovered at your abduction scene. Spencer kept them in his bag with the rest of your belongings that had been released from evidence. “I feel lucky enough that I was able to find a pay phone,” you said, and for the first time, he noticed that you were whispering.

Glancing at the inside of his wrist, Spencer checked the time. JJ had mentioned something about Garcia staying in her office for a system update – what were the odds the tech analyst was still there? Stalking out of the bullpen, he made his way to her office, Hotch hot on his heels.

After knocking on the door, her voice rang out, “Enter, mere mortal.” Once she had recognized who it was, she greeted Spencer directly, “Ah, Dr. Reid, did you need a ride to JJ’s?”

“Can you locate a payphone based on the phone number?” He asked hurriedly, the longer you stood out there in the rain, the more danger you might be in.

A confused look was plastered on her face, but she turned back to her screens and started click-clacking away. “Most def, boy genius. Run me the digits,” she responded, pulling up some sort of database that Spencer didn’t recognize – probably for the best.

She typed the phone number just as quickly as he recited it, turning around and telling him that the pay phone in question was approximately thirty minutes away. You had only been thirty minutes away this entire time. “Send the coordinates to Hotch’s phone,” Spencer instructed, stepping toward the door. “Tell the rest of the team to come in,” he continued, “it’s Y/N.”

Each stage of grief flashed across Penelope’s face as she nodded assuredly, scrambling for her phone as she took care of notifications.

Impatiently, Hotch held the elevator door open as Spencer entered, keeping the phone up to his ear, “Stay on the phone,” he told you.

A desperate whimper came from your end of the call, “I don’t have any change. I found a few quarters on the ground, but I don’t have anything on me.”

“Stay on as long as you can, angel,” Spencer amended. “We’re on our way.”

The rain was worse than he had initially thought, but Mother Nature was no match for Aaron Hotchner. They were only about five minutes from the coordinates that Garcia had shared, and the phone call had dropped off before they were even on the main highway. The dropped call certainly didn’t help the rising tension in the SUV.

“Did she sound scared?” Hotch had asked for the nth time.

Not taking his eyes off of the map, Spencer nodded, “She sounded like she was stranded in the middle of the woods in Virginia, in a thunderstorm, and was using a pay phone as a lifeline.” His entire body was thrumming with nervous energy as they sped down the road, “but she’s alive.”

He didn’t miss the way Hotch’s knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel. You being alive would have to be enough of a comfort to the both of them for now, but Spencer knew what your life meant to your father.

“There it is,” Spencer said, interrupting his thoughts with the recognition of a phone booth on the side of the road, in front of a seemingly abandoned gas station. In a moment of uncharacteristic recklessness, Spencer clambered out of the vehicle before it came to a full stop, an umbrella and jacket in tow.

Hesitantly, he approached the crumpled heap of limbs underneath the pay phone. It wasn’t a full booth, it had just enough coverage to prevent the payphone from short-circuiting. You had jammed yourself underneath it, trying to keep yourself as dry as possible.

Kneeling in front of you, he swept his sopping-wet hair from his face, “Y/N.” His voice was no more than a breath, he didn’t dare reach out to touch you — lest you not want to be touched. A strike of lightning lit your surroundings enough for him to note the bruise that had bloomed on your cheek.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he watched as your lips parted in recognition, “You came,” you whispered.

He nodded, “You called.” His heart soared as you shuffled yourself closer to him, allowing him to wrap the FBI-issued jacket around your rain-soaked frame. “Let’s get you out of this rain, alright?”

Standing up on shaky legs, Spencer helped you walk to the SUV where your dad was waiting, shining a flashlight to help guide you to the vehicle. Based on how heavily you were leaning on him, he could tell that your left leg was injured. Despite your injury, you stepped away from Spencer to hug your father.

For a moment, Spencer felt like he was intruding on a family moment, but he recalled all of the times he had been invited to join in Hotchner festivities these last few years and allowed his eyes to meet Hotch’s.

The two of them shared an understanding look as Hotch pulled away, “We should get you to a hospital,” he said, cupping your face with parental gentleness.

Spencer helped you into the SUV, unable to put any pressure on your leg, you depended on the handles to pull yourself up. As you maneuvered yourself, he tried to determine what your injuries were. His eyes scanned your body until he made his way back to your face, “Angel, keep your eyes open.” He felt as if he was asking a lot of you, but he didn’t know if you had taken a hit to the head. Falling asleep could do more damage. “Hey, Y/N?” He said, watching as your eyes fell shut and your head slumped forward. “Hotch,” Reid said urgently from the backseat.

Understanding perfectly, Hotch hit the lights on the SUV and turned on the siren. Flashes of red and blue signaled to other drivers that there was an emergency.

You were silent.

As soon as they had gotten you to the emergency room, your entire demeanor had changed. Spencer guessed that you had been in fight or flight when they had picked you up from the phone booth, and now that you were getting the help that you needed, all of the fight had vacated your being.

In the white fluorescence of the hospital, he could see how drained you looked. Once the doctors got their hands on you, you refused to let him or your dad near you.

Hotch was in the hallway, talking on the phone with your Aunt Jessica while he tried to arrange childcare for Jack so he could stay with you - the leader of your care team estimated you’d be in the hospital for at least a few days.

While you had been mobile when they came to get you, your energy had left along with your adrenaline, and eventually, the best course of action was to just let you sleep. That was how Spencer ended up sitting cross-legged in a stiff hospital chair, watching over you as you slept.

Respectful of your wishes, he kept a fair distance from you, but you’d be hard-pressed to convince him to let you out of his sight. There were tubes and wires going every which way from your body, oxygen, an IV, and electrodes monitored your life. Boiling you down to a collection of numbers that showed Spencer just how alive you were.

The doctors suspected you had bacterial pneumonia, but they were still waiting on the results of your chest X-ray to make a formal diagnosis. Your presumed leg injury had turned out to be a bruised hip bone – part of a sickening pattern that reflected that of someone who had been thrown down a flight of stairs.

A knock on the window to your hospital room caught his attention, causing him to turn his head and come face to face with Rossi and Blake. Opening the blinds so that he’d be able to keep an eye on you from the hallway, Spencer stood up and joined his colleagues in the corridor.

“What’s the report?” Rossi asked, nodding in the direction of your room, and placing his hands on his hips.

Spencer rubbed the back of his neck before responding, “The doctor said that all things considered, she’s in good shape, but…” Shaking his head to wake himself up, he crossed his arms in front of his chest, “She’s sick and was beaten. Right now, she’s sleeping. We have no idea she was running in the woods, so it’s not surprising that she’s exhausted.”

He continued on to list other maladies that the doctors had provided, dehydration, malnutrition, one cut on your arm that needed to be stitched, and that was just scratching the surface. Dave nodded understandingly, “but the sooner we get to ask her questions, the better.”

Shrugging, Spencer looked over at your father, and then back to you, “When she wakes up on her own,” he murmured, watching as a nurse checked on your IV. He didn’t want to risk waking you up or asking too much too soon of you. “Can I ask you a quick question?” He lifted a finger inquisitively to the nurse who was walking out of your room, scribbling something on your chart.

The nurse hummed in response, raising her eyebrows as she waited for him to ask.

“Do you think the infection has anything to do with her silence? She might be hurting so she isn’t talking?” He asked, it wasn’t unheard of, when people were in a lot of pain, sometimes they coped with silence.

While the nurse might have an excellent bedside manner, the three profilers took note of the concern in her eyes. “The silence might have more to do with her psychological well-being than her physical well-being,” she responded, it was a healthcare way of trying to appease them. Really, they didn’t know much better than the members of the BAU did.

Blake’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity, “Could it be catatonia?”

“In order to diagnose catatonia, she’d need to display three of twelve symptoms. Those are stupor, catalepsy, waxy flexibility, mutism, negativism, posturing, mannerism, stereotypy, agitation, grimacing, echolalia, and echopraxia. So far, she really only meets one of twelve,” Spencer answered.

Shrugging, the nurse pointed at Spencer with her pen, “What he said.” She looked down at the chart before continuing, “Her care team leader called for a psych consult, but we won’t really know one way or the other until she wakes up.”

Nodding, Rossi nodded in acknowledgment, “What else could it be?”

Pursing her lips, the nurse tilted her head to the side, “Peritraumatic disassociation is another possibility, but again, we won’t know until she wakes up.”

The waiting game began. As luck would have it, an FBI agent being abducted created a lot of paperwork, so Hotch was holed up in a conference room while Rossi and Blake worked on the profile. JJ and Morgan stayed back at Quantico with Garcia to look back at what information Hotch and Spencer had been gathering over the past twenty-seven – now twenty-eight – days.

Spencer stayed with you, tucking your blanket around you when he watched goosebumps sprout along your arms. He paid close attention to everything that the doctors and nurses said about your condition, relaying everything to Hotch via text message. They ran a kit on you, and the only solace was that there was a chance that they could DNA match whoever did this to you.

He left that last part out of his message to your father.

As soon as you started waking up, Spencer had to leave the room, watching from the hallway as medical personnel flurried around your bed. At first, he had assumed your aversion to himself and your dad was an overall aversion to men, but you didn’t flinch when it came to the male doctor who was checking your vitals manually.

A nurse peeked out from the door, “Are you Dave?”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Spencer cocked his head back in confusion, “No? I’m not – why?” He asked, gaze flickering back into your room as you scrawled something on the piece of paper that a nurse had handed you.

“She said she’d talk to Dave,” the inquiring nurse shrugged, turning back into your room, and adjusting your pillow beneath your head.

Still confused, Spencer slipped his phone out of his pocket, nimbly typing a message to Rossi before returning the phone to its home in his slacks. Trying to respect your peace, Spencer remained in the hallway, leaning back against the wall as he heard the familiar sound of Italian leather boots turning the corner. “Are you sure she didn’t mean Aaron?”

Spencer shook his head, mirroring the older man’s confusion, “She physically wrote your name out. She’ll only speak to you,” he answered, trying to hide his own pain for the sake of ridding you of yours. If you wouldn’t talk to your father or himself, it made the most sense that you’d talk to Rossi. You’ve known him the entire time your father worked in the BAU.

Shrugging, Rossi walked into your room and approached you with the care of a man approaching a deer. He remained this way until he made it to your bed, and Spencer watched as he smoothed your hair away from your face affectionately.

You leaned into his touch, and Spencer didn’t miss the cue. When was the last time anyone had touched you with love in their heart?

He had kissed you goodbye before you went on your run, just thirty minutes before your location turned off and your usual Thursday route turned into a hunting ground. With what you did for work, you switched paths frequently, but someone had been watching you, or at least, that was the conclusion the team had drawn.

Watching as Rossi spoke with you, Spencer noticed one anomaly – you weren’t speaking to him. Instead, all of his questions were answered with blinks or scribbling on paper.

The two of you went until a nurse came in, telling the both of you that they needed to run a few more tests. Taking his leave, Rossi told you something that Reid couldn’t quite make out and rejoined him in the hallway.

“What did you say to her? Just now?” Spencer asked, his need for any sort of contact with you becoming so desperate that he’d now accept it secondhand.

Frowning, Rossi placed both of his hands on his hips, “I called her piccolina, I used to call her that all the time when she was just a little thing running around the old BAU bunker.” Taking a moment, Rossi pulled out his little notebook and read through it. “White male, late twenties to early thirties, sometimes gone for days on end citing ‘work,’ but she never figured out what he did for work.”

Spencer’s eyes burned at the realization that you had been working your own case while being victimized, he peered in through the window as a nurse drew your blood.

“She said he drove a dark American sedan, making it either blue or black,” Rossi continued to list off, eyes following Blake as she approached the two of you. “Y/N said the car was filthy like he had been living out of it when he couldn’t get to her in the woods. The car had an Ohio party plate on it with expired tags.”

Blake arched a brow at the new information, “Party plate?” She said quizzically, looking at Spencer for clarification.

Nodding, Spencer looked over at his friend, “That’s the colloquial name for restricted license places. They’re given to people who are convicted of DUIs, which is actually called an OVI in Ohio. In Ohio, they’re yellow with red print, and the only state to have something similar is Minnesota where they call them whiskey plates because they all start with the letter W.”

“Well, he’s confident. Maybe too confident, driving around with expired tags and a license plate that already puts a spotlight on him,” Blake said thoughtfully, adding to the profile in her mind. “We should get this information to Garcia, maybe look for people who recently relocated from Ohio with those plates,” she suggested to Rossi.

Rossi nodded, skillfully flipping the cover back over his notepad and gesturing for Blake to follow him to the conference room, effectively leading Spencer to his own devices. When the nurse left to bring the vials of blood to the lab, he returned to your room, taking his seat on the edge of the room – as far away as he could get while keeping his eyes on you.

He looked up to your bed, catching you staring at him. As soon as you knew you had been caught, you turned your head to the other side, averting your gaze toward the window.

Every thirty minutes or so, Spencer moved the chair approximately five inches closer to you, by four in the morning, he had closed half of the space between you. He kept his eyes on you, watching as you stared thoughtfully at the ceiling. You had that crease between your eyebrows that told him you were thinking too hard, and he had to sit on his hands to stop himself from reaching out and touching it as if he could soothe all of your bad thoughts.

In the doorway, Rossi had appeared, garnering your attention as you propped yourself up on the flat hospital pillows. “We got him,” Rossi announced to the room, a reserved smile on his face.

Spencer watched as you visibly relaxed on the bed, your face softened as your eyebrows relaxed. Rossi explained some next steps, but he was only half listening, he could only focus on you.

Once Dave was gone, Spencer took a leap of faith and shuffled the chair to your bedside, “How are you feeling, angel?” He asked, taking up a muted tone.

You stared at him, blinking at him until, eventually, your face crumpled, and you leaned toward him.

Not missing a beat, Spencer stood up from his chair so that he could sit on the edge of your bed, meeting you in the middle, he gently wrapped his arms around you, rubbing small, soothing circles along your back with the flat of his hand.

In the past twenty-eight days, Spencer thought that being reunited with you could fix all of the hurt in his chest, but this, right here, was a different kind of pain. Tears sept through the fabric of his shirt just as soon as they fell from your eyes, and all of the hurt that he had felt before just morphed into a different kind of suffering.

His heart ached at the sight of you in this much pain, so much emotional turmoil that you had silenced yourself. What was he supposed to say in order to comfort you? ‘You’re okay,’ was wholly false, and ‘it’s alright’ felt like a cruel joke. You very clearly weren’t okay, and none of this was alright.

“I’m here,” he reassured you, his voice no more than a croak as he tried to swallow his own emotions. “I’m right here,” he repeated, continuing his ministrations on your back until you had cried yourself to sleep.

With your body in its weakened state, Spencer carefully adjusted you onto the bed, making sure none of your tubes or wires were kinked before settling back down in his chair and taking your hand in his.

Around the time the sun came up, your care team came through for morning rounds and woke you up to thoroughly inspect your status. Once they left you to your own devices – with the promise of food in half an hour – Spencer focused all of his attention on trying to coax you into speaking to him.

Tenderly, he dragged a finger across your forehead before continuing down the bridge of your nose, “I’d really like to hear your voice, sweetheart.” His voice was gentle, maintaining a subdued tone in the early hours of the morning.

He watched as you sighed, deflating all of the air in your lungs as you tipped your head to the side, interrupting his movements. “I asked him to do it,” you murmured, voice raspy from lack of use.

“To do what?” Spencer asked, heart beating a little faster at the sound of your voice. He watched how you nervously gripped a fistful of sheets and looked at him. Only you weren’t looking at him, it was more like you were looking through him.

You took a deep, shuddering breath before you answered, “To kill me.”

The confession weighed heavy on his shoulders, but it wasn’t regarding anything against you. It was in the realization that you had been in so much physical and emotional turmoil while in captivity that you had asked for your own death. That even for a moment, you sat in front of a killer and asked for him to end your life as an act of mercy.

Noting Spencer’s lack of response, you continued speaking, “That’s why he let me go. I begged him to just end it and that took away any appeal for him.”

Last night. You had pleaded on behalf of your own demise last night. Carefully considering his next words, Spencer met your eyes and replied, “That must’ve taken a lot of courage.”

You faltered for a moment, evidently not having expected those words from him, “What are you talking about?”

It made sense to him now, why you wouldn’t talk to him or your dad. He felt like such a fool. You had been ashamed because you felt like your abductor had diminished your worth by breaking you down. Spencer knew better, “You stood your ground. You faced your own death, and you chose that over further suffering. Dying isn’t an undignified act, no matter how it comes upon you,” he reminded you, smoothing your hair away from your face as he watched your lip quiver.

“Thank you for staying,” you croaked as emotion closed your throat.

Spencer hummed thoughtfully, swiping a rogue tear from your cheek, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

[moonstruckme]

congrats on 8k!!! your blog is such a treat :) can i request remus and the prompt fireworks or mulled wine?

Thank you lovely <3

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 548 words

Remus has lost you in the crowd. You wave a hand above your head, and his eyes scan over the hillside, settling when they land on you. He’s not close enough for you to know for sure, but you think his lips tilt slightly as he starts in your direction. 

“Thank you.” You bat your eyelashes just a little when he makes it to you. 

Remus, of course, is wise to your cajolery. He smiles indulgently as he passes you the blanket he’s retrieved from your car. You’re lucky you keep a spare in your trunk. The blanket you’d brought along is being used to cushion you both from the damp grass, but you hadn’t considered how cold it gets by this hour when you’d only grabbed the one on your way out. Despite the frigid night, the sloping hill is smattered with other people, clusters of lawn chairs and ice-nipped noses and kids running around with sparklers. 

“Don’t mention it,” says Remus, sitting down beside you. He doesn’t object when you wrap the blanket around his shoulders as well as yours. You take that to mean he’s feeling the wind as much as you are. He checks the time. “They’re late.” 

“When aren’t they?” You shrug, twisting the top off the thermos you’ve brought. “I’m sure they’ll be starting soon, though.” 

You’re more right than you bargained for. The first crack has you nearly choking on your cocoa, holding the thermos away from you before you can spill it down your front. A burst of electric blue colors the sky before fizzling out. 

Remus makes a sound halfway between amusement and pity as he takes the thermos from you, rubbing your back. 

“God,” you cough. “Not much warning.” 

“No, I don’t think there usually is,” he teases. 

You recover quickly, thankfully, able to devote your attention as the show starts in earnest. The amount of fireworks increases gradually, a seemingly endless array of colors splattering across the dark sky. You like the ones that twinkle best, and Remus is impressed with a few that end by sending little fizzing rockets across the sky. You both ooh and ahh at all the appropriate times, but after a while you find your attention being drawn to the faces around you. 

Anyone who was moving around before is still now, faces turnt skyward and bright colors tinting their skin. Sometimes they’ll nudge each other or say something to the person beside them, much as you and Remus have been doing. There’s a sort of collective awe about you, and you’re struck by the beauty of it—not just of the lights in the sky, but the genuine wonder of everyone here on the ground. 

When you turn your head, Remus is looking at you. Pink blooms across the side of his face, his eyes dark and sparkling. 

“What’re you thinking of?” he asks. 

“Just, I don’t know” —you shuffle closer to him, drawing the blanket tighter around you both— “glad I’m here with you.” 

Remus’ look says he suspects it’s more than that, but he’s too besotted to do anything more than rest his cold nose against your cheek. You close the rest of the distance, and if you shut your eyes to kiss him, you don’t worry about missing much.

[rivatar]

“Love Bites”

Pairing: Adult!Neteyam x fem!human!reader

W/c: 1.2k

Warnings/content: MDNI smut!, biting/marking, blood thirsty neteyam, a lil somnophilia but not much, established relationship, fingering, demon Teyam

A/n: this is prompt 6 for Pandora’s Bloody Moon, I’m sorry it’s 2 days late, I was so busy this weekend😩 also I’m sorry if it’s not good, it’s def not my best work but still hope you guys can enjoy :)

“I’ll see you tomorrow, paskalin,” Neteyam sweetly bid you goodbye with a peck on the cheek.

“Okay, Teyam,” you softly smiled in return.

He had walked you back to the lab and as much as you both stalled already, it was time to part ways. The upcoming Blood Moon tonight meant an early goodbye for the day. You two have been dating for months now, and the future Olo’eyktan has made it clear he wants to be mates with you, only when you were ready. However, it is not always easy handling your differences between your two species. Like tonight, for example; all the other Na’vi could participate in the night of the Blood Moon but you couldn’t, you’d be ripped apart and possibly killed. So, Neteyam made sure you were safe and sound back in your room in the lab complex well before nighttime settled in. He couldn’t have his little paskalin get eaten by the wolves.

…

Neteyam missed you at dinner but he knew it was for the best. He wanted nothing more than to keep you safe. Safe from the others and even himself. He didn’t know what he would be capable of doing to you. He didn’t even wanna be anywhere near his family, so he set off deep into the forest.

It was now eclipse and the Moon made its appearance. The moonlight made his skin tingle and he watched in bewilderment as his skin faded from azure to a milky gray. Though this happens every year, it never fails to bring an unsettling feeling of not having control over the effects. His breaths quickened and he felt strength and power spread through his limbs, creating the urge to break something. His little bioluminescent freckles turned to red speckles, much like the red irises he now possessed. His brain was processing the physical changes to his body as well as the feelings and urges that flooded his mind. His tongue felt his sharper canines and he thirsted for blood. Not just any blood though, your blood. He imagined your human blood would be much sweeter than anything else here. He knew his right mind was slipping away when his body naturally started carrying him in the direction of you.

…

He forcefully entered the lab and went straight to your room. Opening the door carefully, as to not wake you.

You were peacefully sleeping away, probably having sweet dreams. In the very back of his mind he knew he shouldn’t disturb you— knew he shouldn’t wake you and then watch you be terrified of the way he looked right now. But his instincts consumed him and controlled his thoughts now. He had to have you.

Walking over carefully, he noticed you were wearing a loose tank top, exposing much of your skin. He slowly lifted the cover off of your body and was met with the precious sight of you only wearing panties for bottoms. You were so sweet and small to him, your dainty little night clothes driving him absolutely insane. You were too good to be true in his opinion.

He gently slid his hand over your legs and arms, loving how soft and plush your smooth skin was. You moved some in your sleep, still not noticing him yet. He tried to keep his breathing in control by breathing in his nose and out his mouth quietly.

“So beautiful, yawne,” he whispered admiringly.

He started kneading your flesh, getting extremely aroused by you. He wanted nothing more than to dig his sharp canines into your skin and bite you—hopefully drawing some blood. But he needed you to wake up first so you wouldn’t be scared and flee from him.

He softly shook your form, beckoning you to wake up. You slowly stirred out of your slumber and your eyes blinked open—only to see those red eyes staring back at you. You jumped back at the sight of him and gasped.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay baby, it’s me!” He tried to calm you.

“T-Teyam?” You choked out weakly, “You’re n-not supposed to be here” your mind quickly registered.

“I know, I know, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t stop myself from coming to see you… you’ll have to forgive me for what I’m going to do”

Your body was stiff and your eyes were full of concern for what he meant and what he might do to you in this state. But you slowly nodded as you relaxed some because it was still your Teyam and you trusted him.

“You look so pretty, baby,” he cooed while stroking your cheek tenderly. You smiled in return, still feeling a bit hesitant.

Then suddenly he leaned back down to your thighs and latched his teeth onto one of them.

“Teyam!!!!” You flew up to sit upright on the bed and looked at him. The pain of his canines impaling your skin combined with the pleasurable feeling of his warm mouth overwhelmed the nerves on your skin.

He only hummed and moaned on your flesh in response. You slightly winced, still staring at him in bewilderment. Then he smoothed his tongue over the wound, licking away the blood from the little pricks he made. He pulled back to admire his work, loving how his bite now marked you as his.

“Don’t think I can’t smell you, sevin. You liked it, didn’t you?” He smirked.

You blushed, still feeling confused at the mix of pain and pleasure and how it really did turn you on. You nodded and got out a weak “yeah..”

This only aroused him more. He wanted to see how you’d look writhing under him as he pleasured your pussy while marking other parts of your body. So he lifted your legs up to your chest and slid your panties to the side to see your glistening little cunt.

“Fuck baby. I might have to bite you more from now on,” he gloated.

He slowly pushed a finger into you and you moaned at the sensation, your head already swirling from the intense pleasure he gave you. He started pumping the digit, stating in awe at the mess you made and the loud squelching sounds.

He hovered over you and positioned himself closer to your face, connecting your lips in a needy kiss. You greedily took the kiss, tongues swirling and your lips getting all puffy. He moved down to your neck and latched onto it, pulling out a guttural moan from you. He hummed in the satisfaction of tasting your sweet blood again and it turned him on more, so he mindlessly dry humped your side and the bed, dying to get some kind of friction for his cock.

His efforts made you cum on his fingers, spewing out whimpers and moans in the process. He was still cleaning your neck wound while you were coming down from the high.

It seemed that having a taste of you only made him want more.

It was going to be a long night.

Taglist: @neteyamssyulang @bambithewriter @professional-yapper @property-of-neteyam @hidden-snow @live-laugh-neteyam @nonamevenus @loakstahni @ikeyniofthetayrangi @sugarsong78 @inolaphoenix @strongheartneteyam

[moonbaby26]

Title: Wine

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Pairings: Doflamingo x Fem!Reader, Doflamingo x Crocodile (implied), Doflamingo x Fem!Reader x Crocodile (implied)

Warnings: language, non con, full on cruel Doffy taking out his own insecurities on reader, warlords being pompous assholes, vaginal sex, sex as punishment

Synopsis: Inspired by Day 1 prompt of #Doffytober2024 “Wine”. You were one of the kitchen servants in the royal palace in Dressrosa. Unfortunately you were also alone, responsible for attending to the king’s needs during one of his late night meetings. Doflamingo is more stressed than usual due to who his current guest is, and you end up bearing the brunt of that aggression after a simple mistake.

A/N: I know Doffytober is more a fanart tag, but I can’t draw. Soooo…yeah 😅. I couldn’t call this a Doffy blog without contributing something! Just a quick oneshot.

Fic Masterlist

——————————

You were cursing to yourself. That damn brat Dellinger had slammed into you. And you knew it was on purpose. The wine you’d been balancing within perfectly poured glasses for the young master and his guest was now all down your front. The remains of the bottle along with the rest of it, now shattered and sparkling across the stone floor of the palace corridor as you still heard Dellinger’s deranged giggling fading into the distance.

There was no time to clean this up. So you turned straight back into the kitchen. You were alone in here this late at night. Thankfully at least. Because you’d just have to change quickly. More white uniforms were in the far cabinet.

But you set out new wine glasses first. That now broken bottle out in the hall had been the only year left of the tawny port the king preferred.

Why he even liked it you had no idea. It was far too sweet to your pallet, even as a dessert wine.

Yet you knew exactly which other varieties were still in the racks here, and there was no time to go all the way back down to the palace wine cellar to search further anyway. 

So you grabbed another bottle, this time your preferred choice to end the meal you knew had already been sent upstairs earlier for their business meeting.

With the new wine bottle and glasses set out, you then went to stripping. Your stained shirt was already off. Your soaked pants falling around your ankles next as you had just been stepping out of them when the kitchen door swung wide open.

You gasped, reflexively grabbing the metal serving tray that’d still been nearby. You held it in front of you as if it were a shield.

And if it had been literally anyone else, you likely would have still thrown that tray at them in the moments that came after. But as it was now, you were completely frozen in your surprise. And your fear.

“Young master...” You finally said in a voice that didn’t even sound like your own.

And Doflamingo had been scowling, bad posture and all as he’d first barged through that door. But you saw the way he’d straightened up. The way his scowl faltered in the briefest look of confusion as he took in the sight of you.

“Where the fuck are your clothes?” Came the immediate vulgarity you’d so often heard when he berated you and your fellow workers.

You knew you were nothing more than another insect in the strict social hierarchies he’d furthered during his short time as Dressrosa’s new king.

It felt like he was now scolding a misbehaving animal.

Your only option was to admit fault and submit immediately in hopes the punishment would remain only verbal. He’d listen to no excuses you knew. Especially any that concerned his own shithead crew.

“I spilled the wine, your highness. I was changing and was then going to pour more to deliver to you and your guest.” You were trying to keep your face muscles tight. Trying not to let your lip quiver for as painfully aware as you now were that the meager serving tray was not large enough to cover much of you.

And the air in this kitchen was cold as chill bumps were starting across your bare skin.

But you saw that blood vessel beginning to rise in the king’s forehead. His own lips pulled to the side to reveal more of those perfectly white teeth in his familiar sneer.

“First, you kept us waiting.” He growled out. “I summoned you over ten minutes ago, you little twat.”

And he was starting to walk again, starting to close the gap between the two of you with his long strides as your fingers gripped harder and harder against that tray.

“Second, you spilled the only bottle I had left of that year then? I already saw it in the corridor. So don’t you dare deny it. I should make you lick it off the goddamn floor!”

You felt a wave of nausea go through you. Panic is what it truly was as his large hand had moved so quickly. He’d grabbed that tray. Ripped it right from your arms as it was then thrown with a violent clatter against the far stone wall.

His grip had been hard enough to bend the tray, and the impact enough to chip the stone itself.

But you didn’t avert your eyes from him now. Even as you couldn’t tell exactly where his own glare was focused. 

Was it most on your terrified face as he leaned further in?

Or on your chest barely covered in a tattered old bra you should have thrown out weeks ago? And would have if you’d only had the money to indulge in newer clothes.

Or down to your thighs maybe? Pressed together as if they would hide anything else from him, with only the small strip of fabric that had also been washed and dried to nearly nothing over time. Frayed and distressed, now shielding the last of your decency.

The insanity of feeling this insufficient, humiliated and standing before the king in such poverty highlighting garments was not lost on you. 

But it fit further into his ideas of what you really were didn’t it?

You were just a mongrel to this devil.

Those soulless red lenses of his sunglasses seemed to remind you of this too. As you saw your own pitiable reflection in them while his sneer changed into a smile that was somehow even worse.

Because there was not a trace of mercy in any of it.

He was going to punish you now.

And it would be physical this time.

Doflamingo hissed like an animal even through his false smile.

And in that moment you thought only of a snake with its fangs already out. And the fear of having to watch it strike when nothing could be done to move your body away from him in time.

You screamed, a sound that was fully primal as well as his hands closed briefly like shackles around each of your arms and his body hit against yours.

“Louder.” You heard him grunt when your spine slammed down onto the counter behind you.

He wanted the whole castle to hear you. He wanted them to know. 

Your underwear was torn with a single pull from his hand next. He didn’t even have to use his string to cut it. The weak fabric just ripped as if it were paper in his grip.

“Young master! Please!” But you rather be hit. You rather be cut.

This was too far, even for him. You couldn’t…

“Please what?” The king only laughed right above you.

You could feel the intensity of his body heat. You could smell his rich cologne as he untied his bright colored pants so easily. 

He freed his hardening length without hesitation, not even a flicker of empathy in this man as your tears began and you still refused to look at anything but his face. 

He was smiling back at you too, as his hand fished in an inner pocket of that feather covered coat which remained over his broad shoulders like a cloak.

A little foil covered square came out of that pocket as he brought it to his grinning mouth and bit it quickly to tear it open.

Of course the luxury of a condom meant nothing to you in the horror of this moment.

Yet he spoke again while he lowered his hand to unroll that thin cover over what you now knew was fully ready between his legs.

“You know you don’t deserve this level of attention…do you, little mutt?”

The overwhelming arrogance was dripping from what really should have been a forked tongue by this point. 

Once the condom was on, his rough hands shoved your bra up, pushing it uselessly to your collarbones before he squeezed that soft flesh painfully while he positioned himself at your entrance.

“You’re not even that pretty either.” He added so purposefully too, just for that additional touch of cruelty before you felt the beginnings of that lower pressure.

And you didn’t care about these words, truthfully. He wanted to hurt you however he could now. It was a mental game just as much as it was a physical humiliation.

Your steady tears weren’t yet enough to satisfy him.

But you did gasp as that pressure spiked abruptly. 

He was big. Very big, as you squeezed your wet eyes shut and endured the first of his shameless moans while he pushed his way inside of you.

That and the disgusting sound of the suction your channel soon created around him, slicked at first only with whatever synthetic lubricant that condom had been precoated with.

He began to thrust faster as his hands stroked down your body though. He was feeling everything, touching everywhere despite all his heartless words.

If you really disgusted him so much, that was not shown in the way he couldn’t keep his hands off of you now.

But your eyes were still closed as you tried and failed to fully dissociate from each additional complicated feeling. 

It was only self preservation to attempt and relax, you knew that. You tried not to hate yourself as that first tremble went through your thigh either from how deep he was then moving rhythmically inside of you.

You weren’t resisting him in any way now. 

And he was getting wherever he’d wanted to be all on his own. You could hear his breathing change soon enough. You felt his hands grab onto your hips as he groaned again, that pace still increasing.

But even your fierce will to not look at what carnal crime was now being committed against you had its limits.

Because the added element of an all new male voice was finally enough to make you turn your head as your eyes reopened in a return of fear. 

“Well this is a lovely picture.” 

The words came across with all the warmth of a morgue as the new uninvited also strode their way into the kitchen.

Doflamingo snarled above you, seemingly caught off guard himself even as he did not pull his cock out of you. He actually bottomed out even deeper in response to the interruption. His short fingernails still well sharp enough to hurt as he held your hips against his own in something that nearly felt possessive instead.

Like a predator not wanting to share its current meal.

“Fuck off, reptile. I’ll be back upstairs in a minute.” Doflamingo growled to the other warlord.

“That’s the first true thing you’ve said tonight. Because it does only take you a minute, now doesn’t it?” Sir Crocodile scoffed, only walking closer as you felt him taking in the pathetic scene of your bared body currently pinned beneath your king’s.

Doflamingo sneered defensively again as that smell of cigar smoke encroached in tandem with the other man’s highly judgmental aura.

“I don’t have all night, you whore.” Crocodile’s voice darkened more then as he addressed Doflamingo. “I sail at dawn regardless. So if you want to finish this arms deal, then I suggest you get to compromising. Instead of riding the unwilling help.”

“This brat spilled our wine.” Doflamingo retorted, and for the first time it felt ridiculous to be reminded that this had been your great crime. So childish and nonsensical of a response, especially with him still fully sheathed inside of you like the monster he really was.

But you were only staring at Sir Crocodile by then. Because he was making eye contact with you while Doflamingo just complained.

Crocodile was looking at you as if you were actually a human in that moment.

“Good. Because your taste in drink is shit. I got tired of waiting and came down here to pick my own anyway.” Crocodile responded in irritation regardless, then noticing the other bottles still in the nearby wine racks.

“Fuck you.” Doflamingo spat, beginning to move his hips against you again only when the other had turned back away. But the Heavenly Demon’s wary attention clearly remained on the other pirate even as his cock continued to pound into you.

“Keep wishing.” Crocodile’s true disrespect of the other was palpable too, while his hand grabbed one wine bottle after another by the neck, turning them to read the labels.

And the way this retort clearly got beneath the king’s skin was of no help to you of course. Doflamingo only thrusted more erratically in his growing frustration, hurting you more.

His aroused panting had stopped too. His self-pleasure within you had been interrupted with the threat of the other’s presence and he was now almost embarrassingly struggling to recapture that high.

And Crocodile noticed, glancing back over then when you made another noise of pain at the king’s roughest thrusts. “Are you actually having sex or just humping her with all the skill of an unneutered dog?”

You winced as Doflamingo’s hands somehow gripped you even harder at this insult and his voice loudly erupted.

“Just fucking go back to my office already! Let me finish what I started!”

You’d never heard the Young Master sound this flustered.

But in the meantime, Crocodile’s continued perusal of the remaining wine bottles had led him back to the one you’d set out just before Doflamingo’s attack. 

Still being brutally fucked, you were now helplessly watching as Crocodile set his cigar down. He checked the label on that bottle too before deciding to pour himself a tasting portion.

He sipped it, then making abrupt eye contact with you again. He spoke to you too, with all the casualness as if you’d just been standing here alone together.

As if Doflamingo wasn’t still balls deep between your legs.

As if the other pirate wasn’t even here with you and Crocodile at all right now.

“Is this the wine you were trying to bring us instead, Miss?” Crocodile asked, swirling the glass a bit before taking even a second taste.

And why you did it, you didn’t know. Even a nobody like you could recognize the freshly lit fuse of Doflamingo’s flaring temper as his body heat seemed to increase at these words.

“Yes, Sir Crocodile.” You answered so quietly.

Just before the king’s hand clutched around your throat to silence you and he yelled again.

“Go. Upstairs!” His orders which usually held the weight of a near god in this country, seemed to roll harmlessly off the other however.

Crocodile only filled that glass completely now with the wine you had chosen. He put his cigar back in his mouth before picking the glass off the counter to carry it with him.

He gave the two of you a parting look of only mild interest this time.

“Leave that one alive when you’re done then. I need better kitchen staff anyway. We can make a trade of some sort.”

And there was silence for a painful amount of seconds, before Doflamingo did release your throat abruptly. His smile had vanished. 

“You’re serious.” The king stated with a foreign air of incredulousness.

“You have a poor eye for talent.” Crocodile huffed, refusing to further explain himself as he did exit the room as unceremoniously as he’d come. 

And Doflamingo just stood there for a while, like his brain was trying to catch up.

He then looked back down at you. You who was still keeping his cock warm for him as he frowned.

“He actually likes you. You lucky little shit.” 

Yet his voice was different then. Because for the first time it did feel like he was talking to you instead of at you.

To your further shock his long fingers now moved over your clit as he began to rub it as well.

“But this just made you have a value. So you better remember who you really work for if I send you home with him…”

You couldn’t stop your abdomen from tightening then as Doflamingo rubbed that little bundle of nerves so purposefully now.

And it was a different kind of smile this time as he watched your reaction beneath him.

“The next time I’m in Alabasta, I’ll expect you to butter him up for me too. You can be the appetizer for that gator. But remember, I’m the entrée.” 

One that apparently paired well with your particular wine choice which Crocodile now favored as Doflamingo’s strings grabbed the whole bottle instead.

He took a crass guzzle from it after pulling it into his hand, rocking into you as deep as he possibly could again. 

His odd expression seemed to say he didn’t think it was half bad either.

Either that or he was finally starting to enjoy your body again without the distraction of the other warlord in the room.

“You aren’t off the hook with me either though. I’ll want my taste too the next time I see you.” He grinned, starting to pant again then as his fingers ran over your mouth. 

He leaned down over you more, body heat further mingling with an added intimacy that made your insides churn even as your orgasm finally threatened to overtake you.

Doflamingo’s voice whispered as he pushed his fingertips past your lips next, bidding you to suck them. “Maybe then we’ll just start with three to begin with. A cute little mutt, and her two warlords. But I’ll let you choose the wine for each round that night.”

You could see the way his mask was finally faltering now, his own lips parting while he watched you suck him subserviently and his fingers slipped in deeper.

“Is that a deal…my little cur?”

He actually shuddered once you nodded, with your tear stained cheeks and all as your channel clenched reflexively around him below your waists.

And that squeezing of your body around his did finish him off at last. His body still trembling as he rode that orgasm all the way through and came within the condom.

His larger frame was so heavy and uncomfortable when he draped briefly over you in the aftermath before pulling out. But his voice was nearly as soft as his spent cock then.

 “Good girl…such a good girl.” Came that rare praise only at the very end. “Behave in Alabasta, and I’ll see you soon.”

And the devil smiled at you one more time.

“Keep his bed warm for me.”

————————

End. Thanks for reading!

[its-all-papaya]

about the kiss prompts. I'd love to read about landoscar for 5 *and* 6 - a kiss where it hurts and where it doesn't hurt. I think that would go amazing together. I was thinking about the emotional kind of hurt but please do whatever feels right :)

heyyyyy this is like. not the emotional kind of hurt. but i saw everybody writing kid fic landoscar on the feed and i had to join in or die, so have 1.5k of fluffy, sappy singledad!lando.

send me a ship and a number and i will write a kiss

5. where it hurts & 6. where it doesn't hurt | landoscar | 1.5k

Lando’s been in love with Oscar for months already the first time he hears “I love you.”

It’s the kind of late-summer hot that burns off in the early evening, leaving you shivering and wondering when it started. Lando’s in the kitchen at his sister’s place, elbow deep in dishwater, as him mum prattles on about the very expensive wedding of the daughter of a neighbor Lando doesn’t remember from his childhood home.

“Personalized, engraved wine glasses,” she’s saying as he hands off another plate he’s rescued from the murky bottom of the sink so she can dry it. The window in front of them is thrown open so they can keep an eye on the backyard, where the rest of the family is nursing the last of the drinks they’d opened with dinner. Tied off to the fence posts, Lando’s niece’s birthday balloons float gently with the breeze that carries the sounds of a half-dozen conversations in for them to gather pieces of. If he listens hard enough, Lando can pick out his favorite accent from among them, several ticks off from the rest of the crowd’s English. It’s warm in Lando’s chest, the way Oscar has settled so easily today. He hadn’t been worried, but it’s the first time Lando’s brought him around to a whole family event like this – all three of them, Lando, Oscar and Emma – and everything has gone so remarkably smoothly.

“Insane, isn’t it?” His mum asks, drawing Lando’s attention back to the kitchen.

“Extravagant,” Lando agrees to appease her. He’s only halfway through sponging off the next handful of silverware when his focus is snatched right back up by the familiar, gut-tug sound of his daughter crying.

“Shit,” he says then as he scans the backyard through the screen to seek her out among his various relatives. It figures that she’d be fine all day while Lando was around, and the minute he’d ducked in to help with the washing, she’d find her way to trouble. His mum’s already handed off her dish towel for Lando to dry his palms with and he’s half-turned towards the door, cutlery abandoned back to the suds, when he finally spots Emma. She’s just reached three feet (on the small side for three-years-and-a-few-months old, but that was always going to happen with the genes Lando’d given her), so it’s mainly her curly head he can see as she runs back from the swings towards the patio, where the adults are all gathered.

“Gonna-” Lando hooks a thumb over his shoulder for his mum’s benefit, eyes still trained on his girl. Emma hits the group and skips right past the lost look he’d been expecting when she realized he wasn’t there, though, skips right over missing Lando and straight ahead to-

“Oscar,” she whines, arms outstretched and voice high like it gets when she’s upset. Lando watches from the kitchen as his boyfriend kicks off the wall to kneel next to her. He’s got half a beer still in one hand, but the other goes to Emma’s back as she falls into his shoulder. Lando’s heart feels racing and stopped all at the same time as he watches Oscar murmur to her, too low for him to hear across the garden.

It's a minute before she’s coaxed back up out of his chest. Her face is still red and teary, nose twitching, but she offers her hands out when Oscar asks for them. Lando’s stopped moving completely, frozen with the dish towel wrapped between his fingers.

“Can I see?” he picks up from the distance. Oscar smooths his thumb into the middle of Emma’s hand until she flexes her fingers out for him, displaying palms full of grass bits.

“Fell,” she gets out between little hiccupping sobs. Oscar sets his drink aside so he can tug her closer without letting go of her hand.

“Well, that’s no good. Can I help?” he asks and it’s soft, it’s tender, it makes Lando himself want to cry for an entirely different reason.

She nods. Her head falls sideways, back onto Oscar’s shoulder, as he brushes the dirt and grass away. Then he purses his lip to blow the last of the dust off and smacks a kiss right in the center of her hand, playing it up loud enough to make Emma smile about it through the last of her tears.

“Oscar!” she says again, all giggles this time. Lando’s heard Oscar laugh about the way Lando pronounces his name, but it’s only when Emma says it, his own accent in miniature, that he sees what there is to grin about. She seems to be mostly cured of the panic, but in the next moment Oscar scoops her up anyway, settling her on his hip and checking that she’s chilled out as he returns to his conversation. Everything keeps moving around them.

“So,” Lando’s mum says. He jumps a little, having forgotten where he was.

“Um.” Lando says back. She’s smiling like a maniac at the side of his head. “I’m gonna-” he repeats, same thumb motion as a minute ago. He departs for real this time, though, depositing the towel back in her hands as he goes.

“Hey,” he breathes out when he’s reached Oscar’s corner of the patio. He’s not sure where to put his attention first, honestly, a little overwhelmed, so he curls a hand around Oscar’s hip with one hand and tucks Emma’s hair behind her ear with the other. “All sorted?”

“All sorted,” Oscar agrees. He tilts his head to meet Emma’s eyes, eyebrows raised like he’s waiting for her to sign off as well.

“All better,” she confirms. She doesn’t reach for Lando, though.

Oscar’s gaze is still focused on her when he says, “Just wanted a little cuddle before going back to play, right? Nothing serious.” He shifts Emma slightly in his arms and she turns her face into his shoulder for a second, like she’s embarrassed he’d tell on her that way.

“Good plan,” Lando says, tucking her hair back once again.

“Just like dad,” Oscar adds, and Lando definitely can’t find room inside of himself to be embarrassed – not with the way his chest is all cozy, like a dryer-warmed blanket.

“Oscar gives a good cuddle,” he agrees instead.

There’s a beat of silence: Lando looking at Oscar, Oscar looking at Emma, Emma looking back and forth between the two of them and the swing set, where her cousins are still playing.

“I’m ready,” she decides finally. She plants her palm on Oscar’s opposite shoulder and leans back in his arms so she can look him in the face instead.

“Great!” Oscar says.

“Emma,” Lando says, “say thanks to Osc, yeah? For fixing you up?”

“Thanks, Oscar!” she chirps, agreeable. Then she smacks a kiss against his cheek, a match to the one on her own palm, and says, “I love you!” as he sets her down, easy as anything.

Like she’s said it a thousand times. Like it’s not anything, like it’s just a fact of her life.

Lando watches her run off with a hand on his own cheek, half over his mouth. He knows he must look insane in one direction or the other, the way his eyes are watering and he’s smiling to hide how his heart is beating triple-time inside of his chest. But Oscar just slides an arm around his waist, drawing Lando in close to his side.

“Sorry if that was-”

“No,” Lando stops Oscar before he can even start. “That was, like…” precious, Lando thinks, more than I ever expected.

It's just... there were days after Emma’s mum was gone, when he was alone with his baby, that he’d stayed up at night and stared at her even after she’d finally gone down for him; days where he’d wondered whether either of them would ever get to say the words to anybody else. There were moments, nights, weeks on end where everything felt scary, and the thought of bringing a whole extra person into their lives was impossible to entertain, more work than it was worth no matter how badly Lando yearned for it. And there were times with Oscar, even, early on, where Lando had hesitated against his lips mid-snog on the couch and despite all the burgeoning something in his own heart, thought: selfish.

He’s never felt further from it all, though, watching Emma jump from the apex of her swing’s trip up towards the sky. She’s never been afraid for long. Comes by it honestly, Lando thinks as he buries a smile against Oscar’s shoulder.

“That was…?” Oscar prompts into Lando’s hair. He’d pressed a kiss there a moment ago and never moved.

“That was really important,” Lando settles on, still misty eyed.

Oscar’s palm does a quick pass up and down his spine before wrapping back around to squeeze Lando in half a hug, “Okay, though? I didn’t overstep or anything?”

“No,” Lando’s laughing then, still a bit wet, as he dislodges Oscar’s chin from the top of his head, “Can’t believe she loves you, holy shit.”

Oscar smiles down at him, “Just like her dad?”

“Just like her dad,” Lando confirms, then presses his own sweet smile right into Oscar's lips.

[ettawritesnstudies]

Etta's Guide to Writeblr (March 2023)

So you fled here from Twitter/TikTok... Where to start?

Welcome to Writeblr! Pull up a chair, open those documents, and pour yourself a cup of your favorite tea, coffee, or cocoa. The first thing you'll want to do is start following other writers. Check out this post for recommendations! Search through the notes to find hundreds more. Since I made that post, a bunch of people mentioned they're lurking and still trying to figure out tumblr, so I thought I'd make this post to help people get settled.

How to set up your blog

Make your blog name something not resembling a pornbot - it can be whatever you want, anything fun goes, just not [name###]. If you include "writer" or "author" somewhere in the url it makes it easier to spot writeblrs at a glance but it's not a requirement

Change your profile to something that's not the default, Make sure you have a blog title, and add a little description in your blog header if you feel like it!

Make a pinned post introducing yourself (pls don't use your real name or any IDing information for privacy's sake, this isn't facebook), a short summary of your WIPs, and links if you have an author's website/newsletter/ao3/etc. You can check my pinned post for an example

Make intro posts for each WIP! You can spruce these up with graphics (canva and unsplash are both great free resources to make edits/moodboards), excerpts, lists of tropes, character intros, etc. Link to the WIP intro in your pinned post so it's easy to find! You can update these as often as needed

If you want to make character intros, go wild. If you can't draw, piccrew is a great option. Just start talking about your WIP!

Come up with a tagging system to keep your blog organized. I recommend individual wip tags or at least one for your original writing in general so it's easy to search for your work on your blog

Keep track of Taglists for your WIPs. Whenever you post a new thing about your story, tag the people who asked to be notified to make sure they see it! Only tag people who ask to join the taglist, but it's a good way to keep track of interest. It's normal to have multiple taglists for each story+ one general writing taglist.

How to make writer friends

Reblog their work and add nice comments, either in the tags, comments, or the reblog itself People notice regulars in their notes and appreciate the attention. I promise it's not weird to compliment a total stranger

If that's too intimidating, community events are your friend!

Weekly Ask Games: These are weekly events that are loosely themed where writers send each other asks about their WIPs! The most common are Storyteller Saturday (about the writing process), Blorbsday (aka Blorbo Thursday about characters), and Worldbuilding Wednesday (about the setting of your story). If you answer these late, nobody really cares, but it's a fun way to receive prompts and learn more about other people's stories.

Ask Games/Memes: These are posts with lists of questions you can reblog from other people, sometimes themed or listed with emojis. It's common courtesy to send an ask from the list to the person you reblog it from, then people can send you questions as well, so you can talk about your stories! You can search for dozens of them

Tag games: There's a ton of different types of tag games, but basically someone @s you with a challenge/question, you reblog with your answer, and then @ a bunch of other people to continue the chain. Some common ones are Heads Up 7s Up (share the last 7 lines of your WIP), Last Line Tag (share the last line you wrote), and Find the Words (ctrl+f the given words in your doc and share the results, then give new words).

Formal events: These are community wide participation challenges organized by certain blogs! @writeblrsummerfest is every July?? August? I think? It's run by @abalonetea a few years strong, and there are daily prompts and ask games! @inklings-challenge is a month-long short story entry for Christian writeblrs. I think there was a valentines event in February. @moon-and-seraph is hosting a pitch week soon! Since these are more organized, it's very easy to find similar blogs and support!

Misc. Notes on using Tumblr

Follow the tags #writeblr and #writeblr community to find other writers, as well as other tags that interest you like #fantasy for example

If you want to bookmark a post to read later, you can like it and/or save it to your drafts

The queue/schedule function is very useful if you want to space out posts or have a backlog to keep your blog running when you get busy. This is good for the community because it gives older posts a chance to be rediscovered! You can change the posting frequency in the settings.

REBLOG YOUR OWN STUFF. People aren't always on at the same times and so it's the best way to account for people with different schedules and timezones. If you're worried about being annoying, you can tag those #self reblog or something similar and other people can filter the tag, but otherwise it's a welcomed and accepted practice.

If your excerpt is pretty long, put it under a cut. On desktop you can do this by selecting the squiggly button on the far right when you make a new paragraph, on mobile type :readmore: then hit enter.

It's polite to add descriptions to images and videos for visually or auditory impaired people. If you don't know how to write descriptions, here's a good resource

In your dashboard settings, it's best to shut off the options "Best Stuff First" and "Based on your Likes". These function as the website algorithm and suppresses the blogs you actually follow, which defeats the purpose of the site, letting the dash be in reverse chronological order. Also turn off Tumblr Live because it's malware as far as anyone's concerned.

Curate your experience, block the trolls, and be nice

Update for March 2024

How to shut off AI Scraping on your blog

Go to settings and find the Visibility tab

Scroll down to the tag that says "Prevent Third-Party Sharing"

Turn that knob over so that Automattic can't steal your work for their language training model databases >_<

The other settings will just hide your blog from search engines so they're useful for hiding from nosy parents or other Tumblr users but if you're trying to build an author platform you can leave them off.

Again, welcome to the community! I hope you have a ton of fun!

[mymoodwriting]

Because You're Mine

Female!Reader x Werewolf!SKZ

Genre: A/B/O

Warning: Suppressants, Numbness, Social Event, Reunions, Jealousy, Nesting

Words: 3K

Chapter Nine

(Prev//Next) (@starillusion13 @salfetkablog @youngunknownwitch @loveforred @hydroyaksha @meowmeeps @azazel-nyx @luvyev @stellasays45 @littlebaby-bunbun @bangchansgirlsblog @puppyminnnie @bahablastplz @lemonn015 @blankperiodssn @stellasays45 @kkamismom12 @rxlvvrz)

Prompt: With omegas completely removed from society, they needed their own communities and institutions to grow. All your life you had lived and gone to school alongside your fellow omegas, and orphaned alphas. You had managed to keep yourself together, but now at the university level, keeping your secret had grown impossible. You had to face your fears and make friends with an alpha eventually, and now was the time.

“I don’t feel any different…”

You’ve been taking suppressants for a few days now, but there wasn’t really any change. You were starting to think Chan lied to you, that the supposed suppressants were some sort of placebo pill. So you brought it up to him, rather face the situation head on than just try to figure out what was going on. Your words made Chan chuckle, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

“The effects won’t happen right away. They’re gradual, and not feeling anything is kinda the goal.”

“Huh?”

“You’re going to be suppressing your nature, so your senses are gonna be numbed up. You certainly won’t feel things the same way you do now.”

“Oh…”

“Give it some more time, and see how you feel. You can always stop too, just let me know.”

“Alright.”

Another week goes by before things actually change, both for your physical state and your education. You were back in class now, although you were in new ones. In each of your classes you had one of the alphas with you, and sometimes either Jisung, Felix, or both, were there too. You honestly thought these co-ed classes would be very different, but they were similar to what you had been dealing with before. It kinda felt like normal, as if nothing really drastic had changed while you were gone.

You honestly had been dreading returning to class for fear of being bombarded with unwanted attention and questions, but you really didn’t get any of that. Your peers in the class were different, the atmosphere itself was not like before too. In these co-ed classes there was an air of seriousness that’s not entirely present in the omega classes. Thinking about it now, it made sense, the alphas here were serious, and such things would rub off on the omegas even if they didn’t realize. Besides not drawing much attention, the other alphas didn’t really let you socialize. They still had their own classes, so there wasn’t much time to mingle as they had to hand you off to your next classmate and be on their way.

Being surrounded by a lot of people once more, it certainly pushed you back towards Jisung and Felix. Communication with them had been practically non-existent lately, as you still felt hurt, but now with classes it felt natural to talk. At first it was mostly about assignments and a short exchange of words, but slowly you opened up to them again. Despite everything they were still your friends, and they understood you better than the alphas. Things were certainly getting back to normal for you and you didn’t really realize why until a particular night. You were alone in the living room, doing some late night studying. As far as you knew the others were asleep, but all of a sudden there was someone peeking over your shoulder.

“Whatcha working on?”

You screamed and moved away, very startled. Jeongin was quickly apologizing and backing away, not wanting to make matters worse.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Why did you sneak up on me!”

“I didn’t! I thought you heard me, or at least smelled me.”

“Well I didn’t!”

“Huh?”

“I… wait… I didn’t… how come I didn’t…”

Your screaming had of course woken the others, and soon enough you had half-asleep alphas and omegas piling into the living room.

“What happened!?” Changbin asked. “Is everyone okay!?”

“I’m fine.” Jeongin answered. “I just scared y/n, by accident.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t smell him.” You mumbled. “Or heard him…”

“That’s the suppressants.” Chan explained. “I told you your senses were going to get dull. I guess you haven’t realized until now. Even your own scent isn’t as prevalent. There’s not really any of it left in the dorm now.”

“Oh…”

“Since we’re all here, let’s make a note of this and be careful with y/n. You shouldn’t have been sneaking around anyway, Jeongin.”

“I wasn’t!”

“You’re okay though, right y/n?” Seungmin asked.

“Yeah, yeah, just caught off guard. You can all go back to bed.”

The boys slowly scattered, returning to their rooms, although Minho lingered for a while more. He noticed you were still processing what you had just learned.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Do you want to talk?”

“There’s not much to talk about. It’s the suppressants.”

“Yeah, but how do you feel?”

“Uh… well honestly… I feel kinda sick… but I’m not, right?”

“No. Using suppressants isn’t unheard of. It may be a bit unnatural, but it’s not a major detriment to your health. You’re fine.”

“I guess so.”

Minho didn’t leave until he was sure you’d be alright. You stayed with your own thoughts for a while longer before deciding to head to bed. You weren’t gonna get any work done after all this. You ended up lying in bed for a while before you actually managed to sleep. Come morning you realized there wasn’t much different about you, especially when compared to your last few days. You got out of bed and prepared for class like normal. As you stepped out of your room you found Felix at the dining table having breakfast. You noticed his sweater draped over the chair next to him and without asking you grabbed it and held it up to your nose. You took in a deep breath, but only got a faint whiff of Felix’s scent.

“What are you doing?”

“Testing something out… I really can’t pick up on your scent…”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. It’s very faint. No wonder Jeongin snuck up on me.”

Felix reached over and pulled you close, grabbing a piece of shirt and smelling it. After a moment he shook his head.

“I smell more laundry detergent than you.”

“Huh. You’re okay though right, you’re not sick.”

“I’m perfectly fine.” Felix assured. “Guess you’re like a ninja now too. You could easily sneak up on us if you wanted to.”

“Yeah… like I’m invisible…”

That revelation began to explain the lack of attention on you. Sure, in   classes a bunch of scents mingled but yours practically didn’t exist. There wasn’t anything appealing about you, so your peers left you alone. Some might expect you to be a bit sad over this, but you were actually quite pleased. In a way, you didn’t have to worry about everyone else. You could just exist among them in peace. It also explained why you had been a lot more at ease in the dorm and classes. You couldn’t pick up on all the scents of the alphas around you, so naturally you weren’t tense or afraid. You were okay.

Of course this all had a side effect of feeling a bit numb and broken, but you’d take it for helping you just get through your days. Although on occasion you’d find yourself staring out into the woods. You still wanted to know what was out there, especially now since you considered yourself to be stable. Yet you knew that running away was impossible, so it was nothing but a dream, one that was slowly fading away. You focused on just making the most of your days and enjoying your classes. Things seemed so mundane and normal until one day after class you were handed a flier for a party.

You were confused since there weren’t any co-ed dorms, and this party was open to all. Upon further examination you could see this party was hosted by the student board and was meant to be an end of the semester-type celebration. You didn’t think too much of it, big social events like that certainly weren’t for you. So for the time being you just stuffed the flier in your bag and went about your day. When you returned to the dorm later you set your things out in the living room, the flier just sticking out of your bag. You thought nothing of it until Chan came over, wanting to see what you were working on when the flier caught his attention.

“Oh, the end of the semester unwind.”

“Huh?”

“The party.” Chan showed you the flier. “You want to go?”

“Oh, that, you know a party isn’t really my thing.”

“It would be a good experience though. Not many get to go to party, so it’s cool the school board is hosting one. You wouldn’t have to worry about scents either.”

“True…”

“I heard party!” Jisung came over and took the flier from Chan. “This is awesome! We totally have to go as a pack!”

“A pack?”

“Oh, right, I meant as a dorm. It could be a great bonding experience for all of us!”

“I don’t know…”

“We should.” Felix chimed in, having overheard the convo. “It would be a lot of fun.”

“Hm…”

“Please.”

“Pretty please.” Jisung added. “It’ll be a good time.”

“Fine, but when I want to leave I will.”

“That works.”

The others in the dorm were eventually told about the party and that we would all be going together. It was nothing fancy, so you just needed to dress casually and comfortably. The boys seemed excited for the night, but you were a bit nervous. You’ve never really been to a party before. At least you didn’t have to worry about all the scents overwhelming you, or you hoped that would be the case.

“Hyunjin…”

“Hm?”

“How is it that a party like this is even allowed…?”

“It’s for the social aspect. We’re all still gonna be close or at least around each other after graduation, we should know each other better. Besides, we all need a break from classes.”

“Yeah…”

“You know you don’t have to go, if you really don’t want to.”

“I know, but I should experience this at least once.”

When you arrived at the party area you could see it had been decorated and the music playing gave it a lively atmosphere. You were nervous at first glance but once inside you could relax a bit. The scents didn’t hit you strongly and they were all mixed together you couldn’t really identify a single one. It put you at ease, and you stuck near the alphas for the most part. That was the plan as they’d know better than you what to do in such a place, but there were a lot of people and before you knew it you were lost in the crowd and separated from them. You stood  by yourself, surrounded by strangers, unsure of what to do.

“Y/n!”

You heard your name being called but you couldn’t recognize the voice. Still, you looked around for the source, not seeing anyone familiar. Although soon enough you found a boy standing before you.

“Hey.”

The boy had a simple smile on his face, happiness reflected in his eyes. You didn’t really recognize him, and he seemed to notice. Yet that did nothing to sour his mood.

“I guess it has been a while. I’m Gunil.”

“Gunil… from high school…”

“Yup. Long time not see.”

You were rather stunned by the revelation, needing a moment to process. Gunil was the alpha who had a crush on you back in high school. The year after the incident he was moved to a different class and you didn’t see him anymore, and he never approached you either. It was the least of your worries back then, and it made things easier for you in hindsight. You honestly couldn’t believe he was standing before you, and you weren’t sure how to feel.

“You… you remember me…”

“I’d never forget such a beautiful face. Let’s go talk somewhere less nosy.”

Before you could answer, Gunil took your hand and led you away from the main party. You didn’t go too far, just finding a less crowded place to talk.

“It’s really good to see you. I didn’t think I’d run into you like this.”

“The feeling is mutual…”

“Yeah. Can’t believe it’s been so many years. I should probably apologize for being such a bother to you back then. Although I was really smitten by you, still, sorry.”

“… you were polite…”

“I’m glad I wasn’t so annoying, but I have to say you’re still the prettiest omega I know.”

“… Gunil…”

Even if you felt a bit awkward, his compliments were making you shy. He noticed and tried to not make things weirder, asking if you wanted to get some drinks. You agreed and the two of you went to the drink table. You didn’t want to drink any alcohol, so you found some soda, and he got the same.

“So… uh… how have you been?”

“Good, I guess. My classes aren’t difficult.”

“Are you in co-ed or omegas only?”

“Co-ed… I get to learn more that way. What about you, what have you been up to?”

“The normal stuff for alphas, classes and training. I think I’m doing well, one of the top in my classes.”

“You always were.”

“I guess some things never change.”

“Yeah…”

“Y/n! There you are!”

You heard your name and were then yanked away from Gunil. You quickly found yourself face to face with Seungmin.

“We’ve all been so worried since you just disappeared.”

“I’m fine…”

“Yeah, I can see.” Seungmin’s gaze turned to the other. “Is he bothering you?”

“Huh? Gunil, no, he’s just an old… friend…”

“Friend? Okay, well it’s time to go.”

“What?”

Seungmin just started pulling you along, but you only moved a few steps before Gunil grabbed your other arm to hold you back.

“Wait. We should catch up sometime.” Gunil put his drink down and quickly got out a pen, writing a number on your hand. “Text me.”

“Uh… yeah, sure.”

You heard a low growl from Seungmin before he pulled Gunil’s hand off you and then led you away. For a moment you thought he’d take you back to the others, but he meant it when he said it was time to go. You left the party and made your way back to the dorm. It was just the two of you there.

“You know… you really didn’t have to do that.” You told Seungmin. “I was fine… which is also a bit surprising to me.”

“Is it?”

“Well, I wasn’t really scared… and the scents weren’t so strong that they’d affect me.”

“So you had no problem chatting up some random alpha.”

“He approached me, helped me out cause I was alone and lost. You didn’t have to drag me out.”

“… sorry… I got in my own head thinking you needed a rescue and weren’t comfortable…”

“It’s whatever. I’m tired anyway, so I’m gonna head to bed.”

“Sure. Let me know if you need anything.”

“I know.”

You retreated to your room, throwing yourself on your bed. You simply laid there for a moment before looking at your palm, seeing the number on it. Without realizing it you smiled, amused at how that whole interaction went down. You put the number down in your phone before getting up to wash it off and clean yourself up. After a shower you were dressed in pajamas and drying your hair as Jisung and Felix came in. They threw themselves on your bed, and going by the smiles on their faces, they likely had a few drinks.

“I see you had a good night.”

“Absolutely.” Jisung giggled. “You shouldn’t have left so early.”

“It was fine.”

“Sorry we lost you.” Felix added. “We were looking for you until Seungmin told us he found you and took you home.”

“It’s okay. I’m glad the rest of you had fun.”

“Let’s all sleep together.” Jisung suggested. “I wanna sleep in a cuddle pile. Omegas only of course.”

“I don’t know.”

“Please, pretty please, we’d be so warm and cozy together.”

“Okay, okay, but you two gotta clean up first.”

“Yes! We can make a nest together!”

The two stuck around for a moment longer before going off to clean up. You figured you’d get a head start with the nest, getting some pillows and blankets and setting things up in the living room. A while later the boys came to join you, bringing along some more blankets and pillows. A few of the alphas noticed what you were up to, but let you do your own thing. They wished you good night as they went to bed. You guys got some snacks and turned the TV on, watching a show. This was more your thing than some big party. You all slowly drifted off, one by one, the TV acting as white noise. You all slept peacefully, you wound up waking up late into the night, hearing whimpers.

“Hm… Jisung…?”

You lazily opened your eyes, seeing Jisung at your side tossing about. He seemed to be panting a bit, showing signs of discomfort. You got up and shook him gently, trying to get him to wake up.

“Jisung… Jisung, get up…”

It wasn’t working, but you kept trying. Then your fingers brushed against exposed skin and you realized he was hot. You placed your palm against his head, realizing he was burning up. You quickly went over to Felix, shaking him awake almost immediately.

“… what…?”

��Go get the alphas, Jisung is running a fever.”

Felix was still half asleep as you ushered him to get up and go. You got back to Jisung, still trying to get him up. He opened his eyes for a moment, seeming to be out of it.

“… y/n…”

“Yeah, I’m right here. You’re gonna be-”

“Y/n, get away from him.”

You were suddenly pulled to your feet and pulled away from Jisung. You stared at Minho with confusion, but he didn’t say anything. He took you back to your room, and then you saw Felix being escorted by Changbin to your room as well.

“What’s going on? Jisung-”

“He’ll be okay.” Changbin said. “But I need you both to stay here tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Just promise me you’ll stay here. We’ll take care of Jisung, so don’t worry.”

“You’re making us worry.” Felix mumbled. “Isn’t it just a fever…?”

“Not exactly.”

Minho sighed. “Jisung is going into heat. Obviously your senses wouldn’t really know what’s going on, especially y/n since she’s on suppressants, but that doesn’t mean he can’t trigger either of you. One omega going into heat for the first time is gonna be a handful, so for all our sakes, just stay here until morning.”

“Oh…”

[stories-and-chaos]

Shrike: The Deal with Niffty

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable. Prompted by @clearly-awkward and after some theory crafting with my wife, here we are!]

[One shot, word count 1558, Cw: consensual bondage]

———————

The late 1950’s. Rock and roll was starting to dominate the airwaves, even in Hell. Jazz, swing, and even the blues were being requested less at the clubs you performed at. So you started listening to this newest style to see if it fit your voice, but there weren’t many songs that grabbed you yet.

You were a performer, not a composer. You didn’t have the gift for lyrics. Rather, you had an ear for what appealed and were able to infuse your passion into what you sang. You could tell what people liked about rock and roll, but so far you hadn’t found the song to draw you into the genre.

Music was the topic of discussion for you and Alastor on your way back from lunch with Vox. It wasn’t a business lunch; Alastor hated the concept of discussing intense business over a meal. And Vox was always intense. Your husband still didn’t care for television but it was hard not to respect Vox’s ability.

As you walked leisurely through the streets of Pentagram City, you started hearing a scuttling noise behind you. With the myriad of demons around it wasn’t an unusual sound. But the sound kept following you. You could tell Alastor heard it too by his ears twitching. The rapid patter was joined by giggles and snippets of a voice saying “bad boy.”

After a few blocks you had enough. You let go of Alastor’s arm to turn down a cross street. He gave you a quizzical look but continued walking as you pressed a talon to your lips and made a shooing motion. Not far behind him ran a tiny demon. You heard her say “baaaaad booooooyyy” as she scurried along. Annoyed, you picked her up by the back of her dress.

You weren’t particularly tall but even you dwarfed this demon. She squealed as you lifted her into the air, all her limbs flailing so fast you could barely see them. “Noooooo! The bad boy’s getting awaaaaayyyy!” She spun slowly at the end of your arm; after a few seconds you could see the giant red-orange eye dominating her face, tears gathering at both sides. Her pupil spun wildly as she tried to keep looking at Alastor while facing you.

“If by ‘bad boy’ you mean the tall red demon, ma petite, that’s my husband. So find your own.” You dropped her back to the ground as she sniffled. You caught up to Alastor as the little cyclops started bawling in the street.

“Goodness cher, whatever did you say to the little thing?”

“I simply informed her that you’re my ‘bad boy,’ darling.”

You thought that would be the end of it, but the little demon kept popping up to stalk Alastor whenever he went out. You sent her packing when you could catch her, but after that first time she proved to be rather slippery. You ended up having to create little whirlwinds to sweep her away; the downside was she seemed to like that.

Alastor for his part, merely let things play out between you two. He seemed amused by both the little Sinner’s obsession and your jealousy. “I’m surprised you haven’t done away with her yet, cher,” he mentioned while the two of you lingered over breakfast one day.

“Mmm, as annoying as it is, she’s not exactly a threat.” You took a sip of coffee. “Although if she keeps it up I might end up killing her regardless.”

Alastor hummed quietly as he speared another piece of raw venison. “Perhaps we should do something about the situation then. I’d hate for you to bloody your talons over so minor a thing as annoyance.”

That day, you let the cyclops follow Alastor for longer than usual. Which meant she got much closer than before. Close enough that you could snap her up in a miniature whirlwind and grab her much like the first time. Once you had a grip on her poodle skirt, Alastor surrounded you all with his shadows.

She didn’t seem scared at all by the sudden darkness. Instead you heard giggles as your husband moved the three of you to the bayou in your home. The spot he picked was screened by trees, concealing the fact that it was connected to your front room.

Once the shadows released you all, the demon in your hand started running in air, trying to get to Alastor. “Well my dear, you certainly are stubborn.” He grabbed her shirt back to hold her at his eye level. “Now then, what might your name be, ma petite?”

“I’m Niffty! It’s nice to meet you!”

“Alright Niffty, why do you keep following my husband around? You keep coming back no matter what I do,” you said sharply.

She giggled more. “I like bad boys and he’s the baddest boy I’ve ever seen.” She flailed her arms and started grasping her hands in his direction.

Alastor quirked an eyebrow at her. “Despite my darling wife’s disapproval? And all the times she’s forced you away?”

“I like being forced!” came her prompt reply. “And for a lady, she’s fuuuun,” Niffty continued. You and Alastor exchanged a glance of confusion. This discussion was taking an unexpected turn.

“And what did you plan on doing once you got to the ‘bad boy?’” you asked, curiosity overcoming annoyance.

Her one dark pupil bounced between the two of you. “Make a deal,” she stated immediately, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I can’t let the baddest boy get away.”

Neither of you had anyone approach you for a deal before. You offered something they thought they needed desperately, and received compensation in return. Sometimes it was a soul, sometimes it was an item or service. The deals that didn’t immediately involve a soul were to lay the groundwork for ensnaring the other party later. Sell one thing to a dealmaker and you’re more willing to sell again later.

But a demon just walking up to anyone, much less the Radio Demon, to make a deal out of the blue…this Niffty just kept surprising you. “What kind of deal? What do you want from it?”

She shrugged. “Whatever he wants. The deal is the important part, you guys can decide what it’s for. I just wanna belong to the baddest boy.” She grinned wildly, her attention mostly on Alastor.

His smile stretched in return. “Well this sounds entertaining. What do you think, cher?”

You motioned for him to put Niffty at your eye level. Once he obliged you looked at her sternly. “You’re not a homewrecker, are you?”

She just giggled again. “Nope! Working for you both sounds much more fun.” You leaned back and held you hands out. “She wants a deal with you, Alastor darling. I’ll leave things to you.”

“Thank you Y/N.” He set Niffty onto the mossy ground and twirled his cane in thought. “Hmmm, well Niffty dear, I have a proposition for you. I’ll give you my protection and you give me your soul, to be at my beck and call. Do we have a deal?” He leaned down, right hand extended and radiating a green glow.

Her eye shined as Alastor laid out his terms. She grabbed his hand with both of hers as she replied “Yes! It’s a deal, Alastor!” The green glow became a collar and chain that latched onto her neck. Unlike every other deal you’d seen, once the collar was on she twirled gleefully repeating “thank you thank you thank youuuu!”

At least until it faded, becoming insubstantial until Alastor needed it. “Hey, where’d it go?” She started to sniffle, making Alastor blink in surprise.

“It’s still there my dear, but you can’t really do much for us if it’s always manifested,” your husband said, sounding oddly gentle to the little cyclops. That just made her tear up however. Alastor floundered, completely out of his depth now.

You clapped your hands together once, inspiration striking. “Cher, can I have your handkerchief?” Confused, he handed you the black square of cloth. Like all his handkerchiefs, you had embroidered his name in gold thread in one corner. “Niffty, ma petite, come here and we’ll try this.” She perked up and skittered next to where you kneeled down.

You showed her the embroidery, explaining that you’d sewn it. You folded it diagonally so the name wasn’t immediately obvious. Then you wrapped it around her neck, tying the points together just snug enough that she couldn’t slip it over her head. You grasped the knot and put just a bit of wind magick into it. “There we go. Now try to undo the knot.”

Niffty reached for it with both hands; they were immediately blown back by a gust. Her eye widened as she tried again and her hands were repelled just as fast. “Eeeehuhuhuheeeeee!” she giggled, trying again. “It’s perfect. Thank you Y/N!”

“Wonderful! Now let’s get some refreshments and go over your new duties Niffty.” Alastor helped you to your feet and led the way into the ‘house’ section of your house.

With that your husband gained a very loyal housekeeper for you both. He did have to forbid her from trying to clean the bayou, as she’d gladly spend days trying. She was allowed to hunt bugs there to her heart’s content.

@whitewolfsoldat @edgyboi10000 @ch3sire-blu3 @clearly-awkward @badatpunz @bengewatch @chewbrry

[svsssbrainworms]

🍃 SVSSS fic rec list

yippeeeeeee!!! (shen yuan / bingqiu -centric edition) 1/3

[ truth serum/fix it; canon compliant/post canon; shen yuan transmigrates into someone else; disciple shen yuan/child shen yuan ]

truth serum / fix it

• right from the start, I gave you my heart

"Bro, you know how many words I wrote per day, and how many plants I created!” Shang Qinghua whines. "I can't remember them all, it's impossible." Shen Qingqiu narrows his eyes. "It was used with Wife #418.” "That doesn't narrow it down any further. I'm not going to be able to guess it, so stop punishing me and just tell me how the flower nerfed you." Shen Qingqiu grits his teeth. Obviously he wants to draw this out to punish Shang Qinghua, but it kinda looks more like he's punishing himself. There's a muscle flexing in his jaw, and if he puts any more pressure on his fan's guard, it's going to snap. Uh, actually, Shen Qingqiu kind of looks like he's in pain— “A false dragonhead is also called an obedient plant. It’s in the name—the flower forces you to do whatever you're told," Shen Qingqiu spits out.  or: Shen Qingqiu runs afoul of one of Airplane's stupid wife-plot devices...just before a mission to Jinlan City.

• save your tears (for another day) 

In which the SYSTEM provided Shen Qingqiu a way to distract Luo Binghe during their reunion in the Jinlan City Arc: And then he felt it, a hot and stinging sensation in his eyes.  Something warm and wet trailed down his cheek.His vision blurred and he hurriedly tried blinking it away. Shen Qingqiu quickly wiped his face before anyone could see. He stared at the wet trail in his hand in horror and betrayal. What the fuck, SYSTEM?! Too late, Luo Binghe already saw it, judging by the sharp intake of breath and everyone going silent around him.

• What Is Seen

…is not [always] the real truth. Truth-compelling artifacts in the hands of an enemy to one side, SYSTEM-mandated silence on the other, and Shen Qingqiu caught between the two. Is it too late to go back to the Water Prison?

canon compliant / post-canon

• That's NOT A REAL TROPE you Hack Author!

So. It turns out that Shang Qinghua was taking commissions on the side to write fanfiction of his own novel. Truly, his shamelessness knows no bounds, ect., ect., what else is new?! The problem is, now the System has found those stories, and shoved them in the middle of Shen Qingqiu's Happy Ever After! It can't be too bad, though, right? It's not like Airplane-bro wasn't already abusing every trope known to man! Only... What trope is this supposed to be??? "Great Master" Airplane, bro, why are all these tropes wrong??? Did you... Did you seriously scam people out of their money without knowing what their requests meant?! - A story of tropes where all the tropes are wrong.

• Imposter Syndrome 

"Don't make any hasty moves!" Shen Qingqiu said, keeping one hand lightly on the wrist of the Liu Qingge closest to him. Which -- he thought this was the same one that he'd been following down the stairs, whose hand he had taken in the dark, but he couldn't be sure. Which was, of course, exactly the point and the problem. "I know what this is." "You recognize this?" gulped one of the Shang Qinghuas. There were five of them, all trying to sidle into corners or otherwise get out of the line of sight, but this one looked correct to Shen Qingqiu. He turned towards the author-turned transmigrator. "Yes, and I'm sure you will too with a little prompting," he said, glaring at Shang Qinghua. "We're dealing with doppelgangers."

• Something White, Green, and Embarassed All Over

Shen Yuan knew the system was being too kind by giving him a perfectly good body to suddenly live in, he knew there had to be some other drawback. Of course he still had to deal with (the more minor) symptoms from his previous life! What kind of Peak Lord gets nosebleeds, system!?

• Treading Well-Worn Paths

After Shen Qingqiu married Luo Binghe, Yue Qingyuan thought his role in the man’s life was over.  However, as he carried the child-sized lord of Qing Jing Peak in his arms, he was grateful for this unexpected opportunity to bond with the person he cherished most. Shen Yuan, meanwhile, wondered desperately where the hell he was.

shen yuan transmigrates into someone else

• Tarnished Gold

Becoming emperor of the cultivation world will start with a first step as small and basic as becoming Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace. For that, he must steal the position away from the current Head Disciple. Luo Binghe will sabotage, upstage, and completely and utterly best him. The road to destroying everything and everyone who has ever wronged him, to becoming the highest ruler so that no one will ever have the right to control him ever again - it will start as simply as ruining Gongyi Xiao’s life. Compared to everything else he’s already done, this should be easy. - Luo Binghe brings all his skills of cunning and brutality to bear on Gongyi Xiao, Head Disciple of Huan Hua Palace Sect. It… doesn’t go too well for him.

•  Locked and Loaded

 [THIS SYSTEM IS SORRY FOR USER’S DISSATISFACTION WITH HIS ASSIGNED ROLE, BUT IT IS THE BEST CHOICE IF THE GOAL IS TO CHANGE THE NOVEL FOR THE BETTER! AS AN APOLOGY GIFT FOR THIS AND THE DELAY ON LOADING USER INTO HIS ASSIGNED ROLE, THIS SYSTEM CAN GRANT 1(one) SPECIAL ITEM OF USER’S CHOOSING!] ‘... So I can wish for anything?' [USER ヽ(；▽；)ノ! YES, 1(one) SPECIAL ITEM OF USER 'S CHOOSING!]  ‘Then, I wish for a gun.’ [ ...【・ヘ・?】] Or Shen Yuan finally gets the gun that he always deserved.

• Midnight Blooms Peerless Flowers

Shen Yuan is transmigrated into Shen Jiu’s Shizun.

disciple shen yuan ✒️ / child shen yuan 🐥

✒️🐥 • Shen Yuan's School for Unrepentant Assholes

Shen Yuan has been dealt a rough hand at the beginning of his life. Then he gets sort of adopted by Shen Qingqiu, who desperately needs someone to help smooth out his interpersonal relationships. Thankfully, Shen Yuan is awesome at understanding people and what they want! Shen Qingqiu can't decide if he regrets claiming this chaos gremlin as his own or not, but now that Shen Yuan is here, he's never letting him go. He'll have to be pried out of Shen Qingqiu's cold, dead fingers first. Meanwhile, Luo Binghe is just caught up in the wake of both of them and trying not to be dragged under. (Or, a drama of errors with comedic moments, exploring the growing relationship between an unforgiving misanthrope with serious issues and a traumatized kid that just wants to teach him what family means (and maybe learn it, himself))

✒️ • Shen Yuan of No Relation

There is a boy digging a hole.  There should be nothing special about him. He is one of many children digging holes, each and every one eager to get a spot on Cang Qiong Mountain. At a distance, there was black hair and shabby clothes.  Yue Qingyuan could not look away from him. - In a world where they are the same age, Shen Yuan is going to try his very best to become the best friend of his favorite protagonist and prevent the blackening of Luo Binghe! Only, there is a problem. Shen Yuan looks way too much like the scum villain himself, Shen Qingqiu.

✒️ • raised by winter winds

Shen Yuan has had a push-and-pull relationship with Shen Qingqiu for years. Shen Yuan knows that Shen Qingqiu is meant to be a villain, but he knows just as well that many of the things Shen Qingqiu was accused of in Proud Immortal Demon Way were just shitty misunderstandings, and over the years Shen Yuan has become reluctantly fond of his Shizun. Abusing Luo Binghe was not a misunderstanding, though, and Shen Yuan will do whatever he can to correct the fact that he wasn't there to protect Luo Binghe when it happened. -- “Shizun, I already said that I like beasts best - if I can’t raise Luo Binghe to be my shidi, can’t I raise him as my pet instead?”

✒️ • Heart Made of Strings

Shen Yuan was apparently, an average disciple. According to Ning Yingying and some older Shimei’s, everyone had been baffled when Shizun had made him a personal disciple. He was good enough to be an inner disciple but not the best by a long shot, and Shizun only took The Best. He didn’t get into any of the infighting senior disciples normally did for their Shizun’s favor because according to Ning Yingying “Shizun thinks Shen-Shixiong is a lazy brat, and Shixiong doesn’t care what anyone thinks ‘cause he’s always trying to get off the mountain to go hunt monsters like he’s some Bai Zhan Brute.” She had then assured Luo Binghe that he’d love Shen Yuan. Luo Binghe has a sinking feeling in his chest that perhaps, this is the most accurate thing his Shijie has ever said to him.

🐥 • you're not coming home?

Shen Yuan works in the kitchens of Qing Jing Peak. It's not the best, but it's also not the worst. He just wants to lay low and get the hell out when Luo Binghe shows up. Shen Qingqiu has other ideas.

🐥✒️ • Like Real People Do

Waking up in that trash omegaverse novel is the last thing Shen Yuan ever wanted. In fact, if you’d have asked the twenty year old to make a list of his top ten nightmare scenarios this would have been in the top three. As far as he figures he has one way and one way only to survive this before Luo Binghe kills everyone; Run as fast and far as he can and pray to the heavens that the plot never interferes with him! And if that doesn’t work, he can always pledge his loyalty to the future demonic emperor and beg for his forgiveness. (Although Luo Binghe isn’t particularly inclined towards forgiveness towards men.) . . . He needs to get away from Cang Qiong as fast as possible.

✒️🐥 • The Twelfth Flight

Shen Yuan dies and wakes up in the body of a young dragon. He resolves to not deal with that, per Shen Yuan standard and is promptly adopted by the twelve flights of the Cang Qiong Mountain range. There he meets a grumpy but reliable Shen Jiu, and is consistently baffled at how Liu Qingge remains living and breathing. Or; Shen Yuan gains too many uncles and somehow trips his way into emotional maturity.

[liviawildrose]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟏/𝟏𝟏 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

hey everyone sorry for being inactive i was working on myself, experimenting with stuff to write some really good blogs for you guys also researching for the blog. so while i was on a quest i stumbled upon some reels and stuff about manifestations and stuff. even tho the video was mainly focused on manifesting love but i think there’s so much more to it so let’s get started, so tomorrow is 11/11/2024 also 11/11, which is like the best day to manifest things into your lives. and also if you’ve been not so productive lately (just like me) tomorrow is a great day to start your glow up journey too

why 11/11 is magic?

in numerology, 11 is the number of intuition, alignment, and awakening. and tomorrow is 11/11 this isn’t just a day; it’s a doorway, a chance to harness universal energy and shift into the reality you’re craving.

this the ritual i’m gonna perform tomorrow

1. create a safe space - light up candle or like me burn incense stick pray to your god (if you’re religious) or universe and ask for their blessing and guidance to make all your dreams come true

2. write down about your future self - self explanatory but i want elaborate on things, so the thing is i want you to write down things about your future self. as in how does she dress? what kinda vibe she has? what her inner circle is like? what career/ job she has? what kinda men surround her? what type of energy she brings to the table? etc etc you get point right? write down a to z about the person you’re trying to become in present tense. for example:- you want to be a rich person. so you will write down “i’m a rich and wealthy person” and i also want you to draw an imagery of this person you’re trying to be, you can also prompt chatgpt to make a image about this person you’re tryna be. and keep this paper on which you wrote this down as well as the photo with you at all times, in your purse, a small charm bag along with a crystal etc (there is absolutely no restriction go all in with whatever you want to write IT WILL MANIFEST)

you can also plant this paper in the soil of your home plant too if you want (but i’m planning to make a different blog about this ritual so stay tuned loves)

in my opinion do both chat gpt prompt as well as draw your future self yourself

3. time your manifestation to 11:11 – at 11:11, whether am or pm (i’m planning on doing this am and pm both) sit quietly with your intentions. take three deep breaths, close your eyes, and visualize your life with these manifestations in it. see every detail, feel it as if it’s already happening.

4. release and trust – here’s the final step: let it go. surrender your desires to the universe. trust that what you’ve asked for is already on its way to you, because it is. we dont chase we attract 🫦

if you want to join me on this journey of becoming a higher self. please comment, like, reblog, and follow let's embrace the glow of together.

[primejourney]

Greetings!

Here is my drawing for the LESSONS prompt (late by a few days). I wanted to take my time with things since I was having so much fun with it :D

I wanted an excuse to draw Ingo is his butler outfit, and “lessons” immediately reminded me of how he asked Darach for butler advice in Pokémon Masters! (…I have never actually played that game lol. I like watching the juicy lore bits on YouTube >D>;)

Even though he stated he felt he didn’t have much to teach, I like to think he gave Ingo some pointers (especially since Ingo really thought he needed it! But little does he know, he’s already quite a natural haha)

More comments under the cut

I’m also not sure if this is in character for Ingo, but I was too tempted to try more extreme expressions on his muppet face XD I get the vibe he might tend to overthink things at times, given how in the game he discussed thinking hard about the future (which is why he has adopted the “keep moving forward and see what the future brings!” ideals…perhaps Emmet had his own way of overthinking things as well, given how hard he thought about singing as a butler or not lol). And I tend to be one myself XD so it felt a bit cathartic to draw I suppose

Oh! It was also fun to see how a little bit of @choochooboss ‘s art style bled into my drawing. I really adore the way this artist draws them (really, it inspired me a lot to start drawing again!). ChooChoo, you really make them look so darn handsome! <3

[zoeykallus]

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 5/7 - Wrecker

Warnings: Hurt/Angst/Comfort/Fluff/Love Confessions

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

This is a continuation of this request :

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Wrecker

Wrecker is actually very open and easy to talk to. He is neither particularly reserved nor aloof. Nevertheless, you haven't yet dared to tell him openly how much you like him. You feel that he might like you as much as you like him, but you're not sure. The thought that you could open up to him and be wrong keeps you from confessing your deep affection for him. You are startled out of your thoughts when you hear a familiar, beloved sound; Wrecker's rumbling laughter. Apparently he's been playing a trick on Crosshair again, because the Sniper runs past you, jaws grinding, curses coming from between clenched teeth. Wrecker appears on the ramp, laughing and calling after his brother, “Come on, it was just a harmless joke” Crosshair keeps walking and growls, “Go to hell” You giggle and ask, “Oh Wrecker, what have you done again?” Your heart skips a beat as his attention turns to you, and you see his mischievous smile. “Can't you smell that?”

You blink in confusion and draw your brows together critically, but then you smell it, a very intense floral scent suddenly seems to be in the air, a scent that Crosshair seems to be dragging behind him. You laugh softly, “You've replaced his aftershave with what seems to me to be a very intense, rather feminine scent” Wrecker grins from ear to ear. You sigh softly and say gently reprovingly, “Wrecker, Cross has a date today, as far as I know he really likes the person he's going out with and if he doesn't want to be late, he won't have time to get rid of the wrong scent” “Oh,” says Wrecker a little sheepishly, “that's why he's so angry” You think this could be a brilliant segue, and with your heart suddenly racing, you ask, “Speaking of dates, how about the two of us?” The moment you say the words, you want to sink into the ground. That was far too blunt, too direct, and you actually wanted to say something completely different. But it just slipped out of you. Wrecker's reaction doesn't really help. At first, he just stares at you, perplexed; it's a long, uncomfortably silent moment, and you feel like you're frozen in motion, unable to even change your expression, which is terrible, because you feel like there's a stupid, nervous grin on your lips.

Suddenly, Wrecker bursts out laughing, pats you on the back and continues on his way. “That was a good one!” he says with a rumbling laugh. A humorless little laugh escapes your lips: “Hahaha, yeah, hilarious” You watch Wrecker disappear around the corner. You let your shoulders slump with a sigh. This is not at all what you had in mind. Discouraged, you hang your head. It's not a nice feeling that's spreading through your chest right now. Tech's voice suddenly snaps you out of your gloomy thoughts. “Judging by your body language, you're either very tired or very unhappy” You turn to him, startled, and pull your shoulders back up. With raised eyebrows, Tech comments, “Now you're trying to pretend. You were probably about to tell me you were just a bit tired. Am I right?” Tech had started to learn more about posture some time ago, to read between the lines. However, he still did this in his very direct way every time. When you don't answer him, he asks, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You shrug your shoulders. You would actually like to talk to someone about it, but you're not sure if Tech is the right person to talk to. Nevertheless, you put him in the picture, explaining that Wrecker has either misunderstood you or is not interested in you or a date with you. “It's easy to find out,” says Tech almost cheerfully with a small, satisfied smile, because he's sure he has the solution to your problem. “Oh yeah?” you ask cautiously. The next moment your heart almost stops, because Wrecker is back outside on the landing platform and Tech calls him over to you, “Wrecker, why don't you come and join us for a moment?” You don't have time to object or to make a hasty escape without making a fuss, so you stand rooted to the spot. “What's up?” Wrecker asks happily, glancing from one to the other. Tech says before you can think of anything appropriate to say, “There's been a misunderstanding between you two that needs to be resolved” Wrecker looks at you, puzzled. “Oh yeah?”

You clear your throat and want to say something, but Tech beats you to it again. “When you were asked for a date earlier, it was a serious question” You feel like your heart is going to stop at any moment. Wrecker looks so surprised and confused that you can't even guess where this is going. “Really?” he asks, looking at you. You're so nervous that you don't trust your own voice and just nod. Tech, pleased with himself, pushes his goggles up the bridge of his nose with his index finger and says, “I think my work here is done. You're welcome.” Wrecker and you watch Tech for a moment as he goes his way. It takes you a while to look nervously at each other. He grins cautiously at you, scratches the back of his head nervously and stammers, “The night's supposed to be starry tonight, we could have a picnic on the mountain, look at the stars.” “Is that an invitation to a date?” you ask with a slowly widening smile. Wrecker shrugs his shoulders a little helplessly, “Yeah, sure. Do you like that sort of thing?”

“I like everything I can do with you,” you say, beaming. Wrecker beams back and says enthusiastically, “Then we'll do the picnic tonight, take candles and stuff. And on the weekend we could go to the fair!”

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

@ivyyyyy