#AMS Station Scientist

[kudzucataclysm]

i’m a huge fan of weather and climate. weather and climate is good even when it’s bad and evil and trying to kill me

[the-mighty-glow-cloud]

😌- comfort podcast

👻- a podcast that scares you

comfort podcast: two way tie between wolf 359 and wrong station! i have only listened to w359 one time but i am CONSTANTLY thinking about it and it is so so good. i love you doug eiffel i love you daniel jacobi i love you renee minkowski. on the other hand i have been a religious listener of wrong station for like four years and it has some of my favorite horror podcast episodes of all time (everyone please listen to episodes 10 and 61, they are so so very good. also listen to episodes 92-94: the hunting of the lathe worm). the choice is impossible

podcast that scares me: oooooo it's another tie i'm afraid. this time between the white vault and the silt verses. the white vault gets me with the sheer unknowability of its horror; there's some explanation in the last season but the core of it remains along the lines of "we know this horrific incomprehensible thing exists and we can't fix it, only make it marginally less bad" and i am HERE for that. inevitable and unrelenting forces of nature my beloveds. and then the silt verses is just. so phenomenal in so many ways. there is so much i could say about it but i think the best example of the way it scares me is the scene in ep 27 when paige and hayward drive through the carnage of their god's birth. that is one of the only podcast scenes that has ever dropped my jaw and made me physically stop in my tracks (closely followed by the watcher in the wings episode and the cave echo angel episode). the horror in the silt verses is so visceral and it does an incredible job of making such a fantastical setting feel so real. i can not WAIT for more (i also stole the entire "there can be a god for anything as long as enough people believe hard enough and make a good enough sacrifice" for my homebrew d&d setting and for that i am eternally grateful)

[euphoria-looney]

HIHIHIHIHI!

Sorry for this obscene request but wouldn't it be cool to do a oneshot of batfam x neglected!vigilante! reader, where she's like spiderman but instead of being bitten by a radioactive spider, she comes in contact with a radioactive flower that was an unfinished project from a scientist while on a school's field trip and so now she has like powers/abilities like Isabella from Encanto and uh uh she's extremely flexible since she's a ballerina as well and she makes her own suits/clothing in secret and her suit includes flower-like designs and Pointe shoes?

SORRY FOR REQUESTING OUT OF NOWHERE AND THAT THIS IS LONG AND TO SPECIFIC (u don't have to do it if u want to, just wanted to see something different, and if u do decide to do this you can change what you'd like to change)

SUPER RICH KIDS

Yan(?) Batfam x Reader

Oneshot(?)

"The maids come around too much. Parents ain't around enough. To many joy rides in daddy's Jaguar. Too many white lies and white lines. Super rich kids with nothin' but loose ends. Super rich kids with nothin' but fake friends." 'Super Rich Kids' by Frank Ocean ft. Earl Sweatshirt

Divider Creds: @cafekitsune

What came first, the chicken or the egg? Well, it doesn’t matter as the plants came before; without them we wouldn’t even live like we are currently.

"-And I expect nothing but the best from you guys when we arrive. If anyone has a problem with that, please let me know in my office. The student council, class representatives, and chaperones will be here, so don't fully rely on teachers. And no, we have designated restrooms and gas station stops, so don't request them." Mrs. Simeon, my homeroom teacher, instructed.

"I'll call roll now and then head off to my bus." As she started checking off names, my group got comfortable at our spot.

It was a table seat with Penelope sitting across from me, Astro diagonal to me, and Aldira's next to me. We were the student council. I, the President, Aldira the Vice-President, Penny the Secretary, and Astro the Treasurer.

"You know, this is more like a train than a bus," Penny commented.

"We are one of the richest schools, and funded by millionaires," Astro replied.

"I'm just annoyed we have to go with the underclassmen." Aldira pulled some snacks out of his bag and put them on the table, as did the rest of us.

"Who cares? A trip is a trip, and who are we to complain? It just means no schoolwork for a week." I shrugged and grabbed some gummies off the table.

Now, this may be a bit crazy but I know you're a bit nosey but I know you are quite curious about who I am, and what I contribute to this declining society, I am [name] Wayne on document but [name] [l.name] in which in the future I shall presume to change.

I am 18 years old, and based on the other stories you've read, some think that I am great at everything. I met Penelope in 8th grade at a debate competition, and she’s pursuing an art major.

I met Astro in 6th grade, but more towards the end of the year. I was trying out archery and found out he was the club leader and currently playing the violin.

Finally, Aldira met him in elementary school or something. Currently, he’s in volleyball and karate. He also enjoys playing games, and coding when he’s really bored.

Besides that point, we are heading off to a lab that specializes in keeping special and rare plants, chemicals, and things that I don’t think high schoolers should be seeing, but seeing as Bruce Wayne got convinced by his two princesses, we had no other choice but to go.

The worst part was that we were soon going to hop off the bus and onto a plane since the place was closed off for the obvious reason, if you couldn’t already tell.

This would be a long journey, but at least nothing bad should happen while we go there.

I take back what I’ve said. A scarecrow attack is happening, and gas is enveloping us. 

“I just wanted to take a nap.” Penny kicked a rock on the ground as some people around us were going hysterical.

“Yes, don’t we all.” Aldira rolled his eyes and strode over to 4 guys, waving him over. I  characterize them as his love interest, but he begs to differ. 

I felt a head lean on my shoulder.

Now we would also be the hysterical ones on the ground if I didn’t pack ‘supervillain repellent bags.’ Of course, the question of the incident would be, why do you need to bring those?

And you wouldn’t be the first to ask.

“Why in the world would we need that big bag full of ‘supervillain repellents? It’s a field trip, not a place to get obliterated.” Penny side-eyed me.

“Wherever Serena and Melody go, trouble follows, and you’d expect supervillains not to do anything to high schoolers when we are heading to one of the closed-off and dangerous places in the world? Trust me, we’ll need these things.” I threw them each a big bag of items.

And would you look at that? The gas mask did come in handy. So did the suits, Aldira's company had their plane but he had refused their offer though I wouldn’t be surprised if he went with them now, and some lucky kids were saved by most of the bats, with Damian still in his civilian attire he just took Melody to safety and Serena she went off to use her glitter magic to get rid of some of the gas.

Her superhero name? ‘GlitterBomb’

Anyway, I’m not surprised about the others being here with 2 of their most precious girls on the trip. I highly doubt that not all of them volunteered to go, but Bruce stayed behind with Barbara and Dick as they watched over the city.

However, after this event, I wouldn’t doubt them to also attend; just a matter of who loses rock paper scissors.

“Baby bird!” I heard a loud voice approaching at high speed, Dick with his arms spread like an eagle and kept that super speed up… before zooming right past me and right where Melody was.

“I knew this would happen, We shouldn’t have let their grade on this trip.” He was rubbing his cheeks against hers, having her in a tight bear hug. She suddenly got out of his grip, seeing as all the gas had been cleared, and went straight towards me. Slamming herself on me, making Astro groan and blink in a daze before going on his iPad to check the schedule that had been altered.

“I was so worried about you! I was hoping that the gas hadn’t reached you! Also, when did you manage to bring all of this?” She was shoved aside as Serena came up to me.

“Seriously, [name], what if we also get that gas injected into us? You should’ve brought more!” Wow, she took Melody's words and changed the whole direction of the conversation.

I was going to reply, but Astro took the lead.

“We might miss the plane if we keep talking. We should leave.” I took his hand and left with him before any of them could chase after me, more like Melody and Serena. The rest were more worried about them and escorted them to our private plane, originally Melody wanted me to go with them on it and Delphie agreed but I decided to just go on the school plane with my friends, besides all the seats are first class anyway it’s not like I’m flying in the sky with a booty ahh seat.

“I’m so annoyed I was going to the food court, but everything was closed. Now I’m just stuck with snacks.” Penny collapsed onto her seat, I was starting to wonder where she was; after all, she grumbled and marched off into a different place away from us while I was watching the scene unfold.

Astro passed out in his chair, and Aldira…

Oh yeah, he was whisked away earlier.

“Made it just in time.” Aldira was heavily breathing and tired. 

Finally, the trip started, and we set off for the facility. The idea was like Jurassic Park, just replacing the dinosaurs with plants and items.

“This right here is where our rarest plant resides, unfortunately, we haven’t figured out how to store and deal with it, so until then, it shall be left to itself.” The scientist then led us away, and before I knew it, the sun had already gone down.

Tomorrow would be the last day then we were going to go back to Gotham. However, that flower just kept playing in my head, so I got up when I assumed no one was awake and tiptoed out of my bed before I saw Penny in the kitchen drinking water and she noticed me.

“[name], what are you doing still awake?” She raised an eyebrow at me.

“Just about to take a stroll around here, you know, get some fresh air…” She tilted her head at me.

“At midnight, in a dangerous science lab?” Her suspicion wasn’t disguised as her tone gave it away.

“I’ll go with her.” Aldira perked up, he had a knack for staying up.

“I wasn’t saying I wouldn’t go, just wondering why.” Penny threw a wrapper at him.

“What are you all doing up so late?” A groggy voice made us all jump; that came from Astro. Unlike us, he made sure to always sleep early and wake up early.

“Exploring… want to come?” I made up a decision, and soon we all made it out of our rooms and into the lab, and I stopped at the specific place we were earlier.

Astro looked huger than he usually was, swaddled in his blanket, Penny holding the blanket so it wouldn’t hit the floor and make it dirty, and Aldira was taking a picture of this. 

I soon approached the door before Aldira grabbed my wrist.

“What are you doing?!” He whispered.

I just opened the door, and like teenagers, we entered the room, and a glowing flower was in the center.

“Woah, what is that?” We all went to look closer at it, and then the flower went out.

“We should go unless we want to be caught.” Astro chided, and we just nodded.

I felt weird since this morning, but pushing it off, I finished packing and stretched a little bit before I heard a scream (scrumped 😍) in Penny’s room, coming from her, which was out of the ordinary.

So, the collective footsteps ran to her room.

“What happened?!”

“Who died?!”

“PP?!”

We stumble into a scene of her room wrapped up in… thread? She was in it too.

“I just wanted to draw.” She made the motions and rambled, but the funniest part of this was that she started explaining this in a monotone, as if it was just another Tuesday lesson, and we all missed the lecture.

“Can you… retract it?” I titled my head, and slowly it all dispersed.

“Well, Penelope was the closest one to that flower yesterday,” Astro concluded, doing that usual crossed hand with one holding his chin.

“We’ll figure this out later. For now, we should pack up and head to the airport before we get left behind.” We agreed and went to pack up.

“...I can’t believe it withered…” 

“Shame, but we were trying to find a way of disposing it- but the effects are left unknown-...”

I heard bits and pieces of the conversation while I was passing through and all of us threw each other a glance.

By the time we were back in Gotham, I was exhausted, but then a phone call buzzed my phone.

[Large Gay Fantasy Facetime (Join)]

Astro had initiated the call, which he never did.

“Whassup~?” Aldira’s had a facemask on, smoothing it out with his jade roller.

“I… was trying to play Vivaldi's Four Seasons Winter, and now, there’s a whole winter in my room.” He sounded more agitated than shocked; he was an academic victim for a reason. He panned his camera over his entire room, and there were icicles surrounding him, snow on the floor, and water that seemed to be dripping down the walls.

Penny immediately cackled, running up to her camera for what I presumed was to get a closer view of Astro's distress. Before she slipped on her debate papers that she, I presumed, had been working all night on.

Now it was Aldira’s turn to laugh at the both of them gripping onto the phone, but he started glitching out before his Facetime shut off, and in the next few minutes he rejoin his hair all frizzled up and him with this ‘I just got a massive wave of constipation’ hit the screen.

“So, all my electronics turned off, and for a hot minute, I got hacked. I hacked myself. Guess who got powers?”

“Great, [name] you want to tell us something next?”

I burst out laughing.

“Naur, seems I was the only one not affected. Lucky me.”

“You’re telling me the one who dragged us into that room was the only one not affected? I call BS.” By now, we were just up at night chatting.

“You know what this means, right?” I questioned them.

“My career is over, and that means I should call it and jump from a cliff, yes.” Astro had collapsed onto his now normal floors.

“What he said.” Aldira was picking his nose.

“No, with practice, you guys could be the next top superheroes or mysterious into-the-night vigilantes. Oh! Or-”

“[name], we already have vigilantes, and besides, if we were busy with that, how’d we hang out with you?”

“I’m a nepo baby. I’d rather you guys save those in need than worry about me.”

“And our grades.”

“Make a schedule. Of course, I was just suggesting; don’t let me force you guys into this. Imagine the people who’d just be ungrateful and berate y’all. Overall, these powers are like another limb to you guys; who knows, it might be fun having them.” They thought about it, but as the night went on, we all agreed that we had to sleep; school was tomorrow.

“Besides, sometimes, a family is two grown men dressed in bright spandex and their orphan acrobat they picked off the street.”

“[name] what the fuck?”

“What does that have to do with this conversation?”

“This isn’t off of those old Superman, Batman, and 1st Robin comics, is it?”

“Woah, did my father just call for me to go to bed?” I looked around.

“Your father doesn’t acknowledge you, and neither does your family,” Astro deadpanned at me.

“Hang yourself.”

3 MONTHS LATER

Walking through the halls, my heels clicked against the floor as I entered the library and climbed some stairs before reaching the usual table we’ve had for year, two look dead, and the other locked into his studies.

“E-ehem, um, is this seat taken?” A guy fiddled from where his friends were standing, they watched with curious eyes.

“If there is a bag on the seat, does it mean it’s open?” Penny snarky replied cut him off.

“W-well, I just-”

“We’re just wondering since you guys get such high scores on your test-” A girl behind him approached and wrapped their arms together.

“Hey, did you not hear what she just said? Does it look like we have more room for dead weight?” Astro scoffed and pushed his glasses up.

“What’s up, guys? Didn’t know we had company?” I moved Aldira’s bag out of the way and side-eyed the group that was trying to join us.

“N-no, never mind.” The girl waved themselves off and dragged him back to the disappointed friend group they had.

“Man, you fumbled that… the connections we lost… Ain’t no way, you look like you were going to piss your pants.”

“You know it’s been years, and still people try and act all buddy-buddy with us.”

“Can’t blame them, look at us.”

“Off topic, but [name], did Richard get a BBL?” I smacked Aldira upside the head.

“What! It’s a serious question!”

“If I kill myself, would you guys miss me?”

“Your car, definitely,” I replied to Penny.

“Guess what? Another attack is going on, it’s your turn, Ali” Aldira grumbled right next to me as Astro turned his laptop around for us to see the news.

“Ai!” Meet ‘Ai’, otherwise known as Aldira. (Making up names is hard for superheroes.)

He chose that name since it sounded like an ‘eye’ because he could see out of any electronic device and could hack and control them. It would’ve been really bad if he went emo and villainy on us.

Penelope is an ‘Artist,’ the name stemming from the fact that she could draw and whatever it was would appear. It had to be specific, like the position if it was an item like a boulder or something, and if the drawing was too vague, you needed to describe it in detail.

Finally, we have ‘Composer.’ I think you could tell what his power is by now, but it just emulates elemental power from playing any sort of instrument. He was able to gain the ability to play any instrument with the gained power so it would be more accessible in any room. The elements branch off so that power is also great.

And I’m still me. Some people would feel bad for me, but I’m having the time of my life. Don’t get me wrong, powers are cool, but the cons that come with them aren’t. You could use it for good or bad, and there’s no in-between. I highly doubt anyone with magic wouldn’t use it, and whether it impacts them or not, it will.

Physically, mentally? All I know is that having powers changes everything, and that’s the last thing I need right now. Seeing how it changed my friend's life just solidified my reasons.

“[name], you and your friends haven’t been hanging out a lot. If you're ever lonely, I’ll always be considerate and let you sit with me.” Serena told me innocently, but honestly, the words told me a different story.

Mind you, I’m mid-bite into my brownies that I made and just wanted a quick snack before I lock in for my ap statistics test tomorrow.

“The last thing [name] would want to do with you is hang out; besides, if she were lonely, she’d hang out with me.” Melody tugged Serena away.

I took that as my cue and plugged my headphones in.

3RD POV

“And you will do that by doing what? You’re even in the same grade as us.”

“Just like how you aren’t smart enough to be in the same classes as her?”

At this point, they were just insulting each other face-to-face with that comedic headbutting thing. [name] just turned on the TV to see her friends working together with the current attack, and then heard a door opening behind the catfight before her.

“You know, I have to hand it to those kids; a break during the day feels nice.” In comes my realtor, Bruce Wayne, holding Delphie, before spotting the two girls tussling.

“Serena! Melody! Let go of each other!”

They both immediately let go and eye each other down, and each parent goes to their child. 

“Are you okay, What did Serena do now, hm?” Delphie scanned all around, looking for some sort of injury. She gently held Melody like she was a piece of glass.

“What started all of this?” Bruce brooded. Some of the family returned from their mission/rooms to see the commotion.

“I- She- enugh-” Melody cried, and Serena just scoffed before putting on her innocent facade again.

“We didn’t mean to; it’s just- we, [name]...” She shielded her face, and suddenly, for once, the attention was all on [name].

Negative attention.

“[name], what trouble did you cause for them to fight? Are you not ashamed? As their older sister, you shouldn’t set a bad example. You don’t see any of your other siblings doing something like this, do you?” Bruce stood there with crossed arms and a stone-cold face.

“It’s not like that- She’s twisting her words!” Melody spurted in Delphie's hold, and some of her siblings came up to console her, but she raised an eyebrow and slapped their hands away.

“Enough, [name], go to your room. You’ve done enough. Now…”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, not from sadness or anything; She just wasn’t done chewing on her brownies before massaging her temples and standing up and heading to her room. 

To be fair, you have to hand it to her, she squinted hard to see what Bruce was saying.

Not before getting berated at.

“You really are just trouble and a burden.” Damian started as she passed, making her freeze and stare at him.

“What did he say, my narwhal is going up and down?- what is he spouting so fast😨???” The stressed-out senior just nodded.

From her point of view though, this toddler was speaking out words like he was the next rapper, so she opted on giving a smile(?) but it looked more like a sneer due to Bruce’s damn genes. Damian was shocked before rolling his eyes, but his mouth got cupped by Dick.

“[name], don’t cause a scene. Damian didn’t mean it.” He motioned her off, but that made her even more confused because she still didn’t understand what was going on and just gave up on understanding and more on getting some work in.

[name]’s POV

Man, this assignment is killing me. I should go to bed soon, but I haven’t watered my belladonnas in a hot minute. I popped my neck and my back before getting up and grabbing my plant mister. I walked over to my belladonnas. I sprayed a few, then put it down to admire the belladonnas. I gently touched a petal, and it began growing quickly through my room, making me fall back.

Taking off my headphones, I adjusted my glasses. It seemed the belladonnas moved in whatever way I wanted them to. Not what I needed before going to bed, but the last thing I needed was to talk to myself about this, and I rushed over to my phone.

[Facetiming (Academic Victims)] (idk abt yall but my gc changes a lot.)

“ERm 🤓 we might have a situation, guys.” I awkwardly smiled at the camera and showed my flower-covered room.

"Did your family let poison ivy in your house?” Penny looked like she went through ten pounds of sugar but we won’t talk about that as she still managed to answer the call at the end of the day.

“I was just trying to water some flowers 😞😤, so uh, any advice on how to control your magic?”

Finally, it seemed to register in the 3 heroes' minds why her room looked like she just got captured by Poison Ivy.

“Wait, wait- you can control plants?!” 

“IDK, I JUST WANTED TO WATER MY BELLADONNAS!” 

3rd POV

Leaping from a building and dodging a bullet by hitting a split before tying a guy up and throwing him off the building, landing him in a snap dragon that engulfed them before letting them on the ground, lining them up with their teammates.

‘Deceptful grace’ is what she calls the move for the snap dragon.

Descending from her poppy swing, she landed in front of a talon and, having him wrapped in vines, she bounced off.

“So- if you ever make mac n’ cheese make sure none of your guests are lactose intolerant or do, no one cares.” She ranted about her thoughts while trying to search for the last remaining guy.

A guy behind her shoots a bullet, but before it can collide with her, it bursts into petals, making her turn around and pull him from his feet by some weeds that were on the grass, wrapping him in weeds too, before dragging them to a boutique shop and decorating them.

“Red or yellow?”

“What?”

“For the flowers, goofy.” She smiled at him.

She was the superhero known as ‘Florist’ and made a magical girl-like design for a costume as she had been scrolling through Tumblr the night before and was reading a few things here and there and got back into her childhood phase.

It has flower designs that wrapped around her body and she wore these pointe shoes that went damn good with the outfit too.

“Alrighty, say cheese, dummies.” She pulled out her phone and put up a peace sign while the talons just frowned and accepted their fate.

By fair they had to say she’s the worst hero they go up against, not only does she yap their ear off but she degrades them too while she’s at it, and the worst part is she says it so nicely that you almost forget she called you an ‘dick rider’ a second early with a sweet tone.

You have the Bat-family that makes things quick and doesn't say anything other than their emo words.

Ai, he doesn’t even face them most of the time, he hijacks something, heck it might even belong to you, then jumps you.

Oh, and if you somehow hear a magnificent melody, don’t clap, don’t cheer, it’s not a good sign, it means you’re going down, avatar style. Then you just see Composer walk up and spray some sort of sanitizer over you before he even decides to make sure you’re still alive before shoving you in a police car and heading to god knows where.

But don’t worry because the Artist will just put you in a jail cell. No need for the fighting, you’re already apprehended.

And they thought metahumans only stayed in metropolises. (Not metahumans, you fake ass fans 😞)

“So anyway, today I went to school, you know, because unlike you donkies I like to be educated, and I stumbled into a girl, she was crying, get this, she got rejected by one of the popular guys.”

“Wait, who?”

“I can’t tell y’all confidentially; besides, I’m a minor- technically, you know it’s sad when you beef with little kids.”

“Alright, lay off us 💀”

“So anyway, she then started to bother his brother.”

“Why…?”

“Because if you can’t go after one, go after the other attractive one, you feel me?” 

“You like ‘em?” 

“I’ll slap you in your face; that would be illegal in so many ways. Anyway, his sister came up, she did that innocent act, and so the girl thought she was trying to steal him anyway.”

“Let me be a spoiled Gotham kid in my next life.” One of the talons whispered to the other.

“I wouldn’t advise it; you look like you’d get bullied just for your hair.” The girl shrugged.

“Just kill me.” A talon looked over to his other accomplices and they were knock out cold, not from anything violent but rather because this girl had been here talking to them since an hour ago but had to keep them company since something bigger was going on in the center and the batfam were taking care of that and her squad was taking care of the other villains.

“Alright, thank you for capturing them. We’ll take it from here.” Police finally showed up after a good hour.

“There is a god out there.” The guy smiled up to the sky, a single tear slipping out of his eye.

[name]’s POV

You know acrobat is fucking hard and scary as hell but seeing the tricks are fun.

I’m saying this because I bought a few things that I thought would be good for training, especially when I’m in the air or high spaces.

Of course, I only do it when I’m done with ballet practice as there’s a show I’m performing soon, ‘Sleeping Beauty’. The hardest part would be holding my pose for a good minute, on my toes, one foot up and a hand up while a guy slowly spins me around before I let go and stay in that pose for a little long. No, it’s not even my legs that much, compared to my back.

Fun fact: common misconception is that I’m standing on my tippy toe, that my toes are bending when I’m doing ballet, but you’d be wrong as I’m literally on the tips of my toes, no bending is happening (lol)

I got a pole, so that I can do that dramatic sliding and twirling around while I’m going down, silks for similar reasons and is really interesting, a hoop, and currently my favorite currently has to be the trapeze.

I put on my bodysuit that had shorts on them and some socks that left out my toes both in back before tying up my hair the best way I would so they wouldn’t get in the way of my face and stood up.

First, though, I start a bit with body control.

I let out a nervous breathe before swinging on the trapeze letting my feet meet the base of it, letting go of the strings that attach to it, I twirled midair and let my legs wrap themselves onto the strings letting myself swing before using the momentum to push up with my torso and twirling into a sitting position letting my bottom rest on the base of it, and swinging a bit, glad to still be intact, letting my legs swing back and forth before standing back onto one of the ledges.

“That should be enough for one day…” I went down and stretched a bit before heading out before seeing Cassandra and Dick at the door.

It wasn’t unusual as sometimes they would practice here. I gave them a small smile before pushing a button that I had Aldira install, and it went back to how it usually was.

“Your ballet is impressive, as always.” Cassandra complimented me.

“Thank you…” I blushed not used to getting complements, especially from Cassandra, she’s one of the people I admire after all.

“Acrobat.” I titled my head at Dicks word.

“You do acrobatics.” I nodded. (Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy? 🤨)

“It’s fun, I’d recommend it, but you already seem fexible enough.” With that I left them to training and went to my room.

Guess you could say… I keep it undercover. (Sorry, I had to ♥️)

Damian insulting [name] in the hallway summary:

“What the…”

“imgonnabeatimgonnabeatyou “

“Is he saying something?”

“imgonnabeatyouimgonnabeatyou”

“I’M GONNA BEAT YOU”

Little background context for [name]: She has never strived for the batfam's attention, as she was more focused on appeasing her mom. No, she doesn't have a family-like relationship with Alfred. From her POV, they are more like baking buddies, and she knows his main point of job is to serve the Wayne family and feels like sometimes he's hanging out with her out of obligation. So far, the only people obsessed with her are Melody - [D/D], Delphie - [M/D], and Serena. The main friend group of [name] is popular for their grades and social standing. (Maybe outfit inspos, too).

I'm debating on if [name] has ever told them the truth behind the mask of batfam. I'll leave that to you guys. Also, I'll just make it to how the school doesn't know that [name] is related to the Waynes for plot reasons, and the only people who know are her friends and, obvi, her family. [name] doesn't know the context for any of the batfams background and is just great at guessing the craziest logic that does, in fact, apply to anyone.

Yeah, how do we feel? It's very hard to stick to one prompt, and I had so much fun writing this. Anyway, if something new pops up... (hopefully it won't bc I already have so many things to write for) Don't be surprised.

Also, I think I gave details on [name] 's friend's magic but haven't gone into [name] herself, as you can tell she has plant magic, I took it from the request, but it ain't just flowers but also herbs and trees stuff like that, dabbles into poison and healing as yk they are plants and they are the bases for everything technically anyway yeah pretty cool 😎.

I tried a new type of formatting with the photos and skinny divider if y'all didn't notice... you like? If there are any formatting oddities please tell me.

Anyway hope you guys like it, would you like this to be a series? How do you guys feel about how slow I update.

PLS PLS PLS comment and sent request my beautiful viewers and uhhh, yeah ❤. (making me feel like a beggar out in these streets 🙄)

Oh, and if there's anything wrong with the spelling, grammar, or something just not right and cringy, TELL MEE.

[blood-teeth]

"...and, at the end of it all, this is the truth of you. The truth of your ruinous, shaky hands. The truth of you whole, de-fleshed, flayed. Your bones are harbingers, your fingers methods of decay. You are the mouthpiece for death. You remember the Bhagavad Gita and I am become death, destroyer of worlds. Look at me, you say, I am Time itself, and I must one day destroy your world as I have always done. 

In the light of a long dead star, the last astronaut wakes up. After six decades, the worst has come to pass. The earth is dead, the sun has gone, and the mission to find a new, viable home has failed. There are no more horizons for humanity.

This Grave Calls You Home is a sci-fi thriller set in space after humanity is forced to leave Earth's ravaged surface following nuclear devastation and an environmental collapse. You play as an ER nurse aboard the NEW HORIZON, an immense space station courtesy of THE COALITION OF THE LAST FRONTIER. This colossal facility, a self-contained city in orbit, houses the remnants of humanity. And it is here that your days pass in monotony, caring for the irradiated people born from Earth and the critically ill, trying your best to survive the relentless demands of the Emergency Room and your own deteriorating mental health. When a patrol flagship discovers the ARCADIA-II - a long-forgotten relic from humanity's past - and finds within slumbers an astronaut who had failed at delivering humanity from destruction, the routine of your life is throughly interrupted. As the mystery of the ARCADIA-II and PROJECT ODYSSEY unfold, you learn that your part in this could mean humanity's salvation.

Or you could be its extinction.

YOU WILL LIKE THIS IF YOU LIKE: - INTERSTELLAR - THE LOCKED TOMB SERIES - BLADERUNNER - HEAVEN WILL BE MINE - TIME TRAVEL AND TIME LOOPS - GHOST STATION - ALIEN

THE LAST ASTRONAUT(M/F 25)- ALEX STERN "...my love, i no longer know what it is to be warm." The lone ranger, the last star. The failure of deliverance. Feel their breath against yours, cup their ribcage into your hands to feel the long, dead beat of their heart. You know them, you know them. You swear you do.

THE SCIENTIST (F 23) - OPHELIA VALDEZ "...in the wake of dawn," she says, "it has only ever been you." The General's daughter and the brightest mind the world has ever seen. You brush your fingers along the bone of her brow and marvel at her atoms meeting yours. maybe science is religion, you think. maybe you will bend and lick and worship her taste on your mouth.

THE ENGINEER (THEY/THEM 24) - PUCK GOODFELLOW "is that your real name?" "no," they smile. "nothing has ever been mine own. i belong to you. give me a new name. give me a new life. i am yours." The scent of engine oil and gritted teeth. Place your mouth against their neck and taste the blood of a covenant past. They hold you in their palms; you feel the promise of something greater, something before.

THE BOTANIST (M/F 25) - CAIA / CAIUS CAIN "i am no good at words. i'm good in the dirt and the roots and the trees. darling, you've been in everything i touch." the cool touch of water, liberation at their smile. Take the bite and know what it means to become. Dig your hands deep, deep in the earth and feel what it means to love.

THE MAJOR (TRANS M 27) - JONATHAN STERN "i have given my life to duty, to sacrifice, to obligation. i wish to give it to you, now, instead. it has been an honor serving you." A past marked by violence made by hands meant to touch. To soothe. He holds you tight against his chest and if you close your eyes you can still smell the smoke. He holds you like an apology. Like a prayer.

DEMO- PLAYLIST - FAQ

[bitchface24-7]

Oops my hand slipped and I’m back again (for the 3rd day in a row (I think I have a problem))

So following the trend of me seeing too many fanfics of smthn I don’t vibe with, I’ve noticed that a lot of Jayce and/or Viktor x reader fics have the reader as a scientist (makes sense writing-wise, provides a lot of opportunity for characters to interact and bond)

Problem is, I am dogshit at science. I was good at most subjects in high school, but science? Nearly failed. I was good at math and word problems too which made it even more confusing to me but it is what it is ig. So I was hoping for another JayVik x reader where this time, the reader is an artist

Now I primarily draw OCs and people (usually digital or w/ marker) so I’d like smthn leaning towards that but frankly you can do whatever

I just think it’s be funny if, while Jayce n Viktor do their cool nerd shit, the reader is fully unhelpful and doodling in their sketchbook. Quality time except I’m drawing sexualized men (gender equality) and my hot boyfriends are solving global trade or whatever

(Mayhaps also drawing them for studies and anatomy practice and showing them because I like forcing ppl to look at my art >:)) )

Again, take as long as you need to write this, hope you’re doing good :))

MY MUSES - JAYVIK X READER

synopsis: after escaping Noxus with your best friend Mel, you've cherished the peace of Piltover compared to the wartime of Noxus. You were able to flourish in the city of progress with your artistry. It was the way you and Mel found solace in your old home. Now, you've been commissioned by the council to paint a portrait of the Hextech duo.

warnings: talks of wartime, insecurities, awkward talk, becoming friends with J + V, anatomy practice, complimenting your two boys, fluff, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I understand your frustration, even I've fallen into “make reader a scientist to make life a little easier.” I hope y'all enjoy artist reader!

You're painting in your studio at the Academy when the door is opened, and you smell the delicious fragrance of vanilla, cardamom, and sandalwood, it’s Mel.

You put your paintbrush down and turn to look at your best friend, a smile beaming on your face. You get up and go for a hug before stopping yourself, your clothes are stained with paint and you don’t want to ruin Mel’s pretty white dress.

She fondly rolls her eyes and pulls you into a hug anyway. Mel’s not a very touchy person. It was seen as a weakness is Noxus. She’s only really touchy with you, you’ve been her friend for as long as you can remember. She wholeheartedly trusts you.

And you know how rare that is.

“Hello dove. How’re you today?”

You scrunch your nose at the nickname, it was a nickname given to you when you were much younger. “It’s because you don’t see the glory of war. You’re gentle. Something I desperately need in my life.” Mel had explained, her Medarda Mask no where in sight.

“I’m good. I’m almost done the landscape you commissioned for the council room.”

Mel’s smile widens the tiniest bit, but her gaze is downcast. This isn’t a social call. She’s been tasked to ask you something.

“Mel, I understand. Just, tell me what you need from me.”

A sigh escapes the gorgeous woman, “The council has requested a portrait to be made of the two Hextech innovators, Viktor and Jayce Talis.”

You raise your brows in confusion, “Okay… why is that a bad thing?”

Mel leans on a clean section of your work station, a hand coming up to rub her forehead, “They’re constantly working. They don’t see the prospect of taking a break. If you were to paint them, you’d have to paint them in the lab; as they do dangerous experiments. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

You place your hand over top Mel’s hand that’s braced against the desk, “I’ll be okay. I can’t imagine they’d let anyone get hurt.”

Mel nods sagely, the hand that was rubbing her forehead is now placed over your hand. She’s now cupping your one hand and rubbing her thumb over your knuckles.

“I’ll tell them what the council has demanded. When will you be free to paint them?”

You look over to the almost finished landscape painting sitting on your easel, “Give me a week.”

Mel nods, gives you one last hug, and leaves your studio to break the news to Viktor and Jayce.

You just hope they’re nice to you.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The week passed by in a flash, and here you are. Standing in front of two very large doors that make you feel like your heart is going to beat out of your chest.

You don’t understand why you’re so nervous. You’ve painted portraits of the top-class in Piltover. The cream of the crop. The top one percent, and you were fine. You were mentally rolling your eyes every few minutes, but you were fine.

You’re now asked to paint two scientists and you feel like you’re going to have a stroke.

At least Mel gave you some advice in regards to both men, “Jayce is quite kind, easy-going, and easy to talk to. You’ll make quick friends with him as you are. His partner Viktor on the other hand… is a different story. He’s cordial, but stubborn. He’s quite witty with a sass that almost matches mine. He’d prefer it if you skipped the flowery talk and just got straight to the point. He’s not a fan of the mind numbing politics of Piltover. Say what you mean or don’t say anything at all.”

With that mantra repeating in your head, you knock on the doors to their lab.

“Come in!” A voice exclaims, “We cannot leave our stations, the gems may become volatile if we do.” Another voice adds, this time with an unfamiliar accent.

You lightly push open the doors and are stunned by the state of the lab. Papers everywhere, equations on a blackboard you don’t even want to attempt to understand, ink stains, scraps of metal.

You suppose this is their version of an art studio.

“Oh!” The first voice you heard exclaims, “You must be Mel’s friend, the one who’s been commissioned to paint us. I’m Jayce. The one brooding over there with goggles on his face is Viktor.”

A scoff, “I am not brooding. I simply do not see the purpose of a portrait being made of us. It takes time away from our research!”

You cut in, reminding yourself of Mel’s advice, “The council has ordered it. Besides, I need to study you two for a little bit. Understand your anatomy and proportions. Then when I have a clear understanding, we’ll take one day out of your schedule to get the painting done.”

Viktor raises his goggles, putting them into is hair and the most beautiful pair of eyes you’ve ever seen narrows onto you, “You’ll only need one day to paint us?”

“The weather is constantly changing. That means so is my light source, my shadows, my colours.” You explain easily, “If we spend the whole day together, I’ll be able to easily get the portrait done and you two can go back to work. Sound good?”

Viktor purses his lips before nodding, Jayce just looks between the two of you with a small smile. He thought that would’ve taken a lot longer.

Guess you’re pretty special.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

One Week Later.

Their work is fascinating. You don’t understand quite a bit of it, but their enthusiasm and passion make up for your lack of knowledge.

Here they are trying to solve most of the worlds problems and you’re sketching them in your sketchbook with hearts in your eyes.

You focus on their bodies, how they bend, contort, their planes and shadows. How light glows onto them.

You focus on their unique features. Jayce’s sharp canines, Viktor’s cheekbones and moles. Jayce’s broad chest and Viktor’s cane and brace.

Those two points are especially important. They’re so detailed. And they’re a part of Viktor, you’re not going to erase something so vital to him as a human being to make the portrait “nicer to look at” according to the upper echelon of Piltover.

You’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t feel a presence come up behind you, “Whatcha doing?”

You jolt, putting a hand to your heart as your pencil drops to the ground, “By Janna Jayce! You scared me!”

A boisterous laugh permeates the lab, “You we’re so focused, I couldn’t help but wonder what you were doing.”

“We’ll… I was drawing my two very beautiful muses.”

There’s a small silence in the lab.

“Your—“ Viktor starts, then clears his throat as Jayce stands there, stunned, “Your beautiful muses?”

You nod, not realizing their disbelief, “Of course. The two of you have such beautiful features. Jayce is quite tall, with broad shoulders, a tiny waist, and strong legs. A nice hair cut, strong brows, big eyes, and pink lips. You, Viktor on the other hand—“

You’re cut off by said man, “Are not as conventional—“

You cut him off this time, “Are also tall, lean, lithe, with long beautiful legs. You have a face carved out of marble, messy hair, eyes that look like liquid gold, beauty marks, and a nice pale complexion that compliments Jayce’s tan. You’re both quite handsome, just is different ways.”

The two men are stunned into silence, and it takes a few minutes before you realize what you said. You feel your face heat up as you try to hide behind your sketch book. Viktor lightly smiles at that as Jayce laughs and forces your sketch book back down onto your lap.

“You know, I’ve never heard such an honest compliment before.”

“Neither have I.”

You feel like killing yourself. Maybe jumping out of one of the lab windows will do the trick.

“So,” Viktor’s interrupts your dark humorous thoughts, “Do you feel prepared to paint the portrait?”

You look the two men dead in the eye, even as embarrassment consumes you.

“Yes.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

A day is set and you bring all your art supplies that you need into the lab. You even set up a place for the portrait to be.

The setting will be in front of their main work station, the hexcore and hexgems glittering in the background. You brought a comfortable armchair for Viktor to sit on, you know these paintings can take some time and you don’t want to over-exert his leg. You assume Jayce can stand for a few hours, placed right next to Viktor.

As you explain your thought process to them, the more excited they seem. And to think, they didn’t want to do this originally.

“Ok, get comfortable. Viktor you can put your cane to rest against one of the arms of the chair. Jayce, can you place your hand on the top of the headrest? Perfect. You two comfortable?”

You get nods and yes’ as your answer.

With that, you start to paints them.

You ensure to be as diligent as possible. You start with the boys, adding bits and pieces to the background as you go. You make sure to her the green in Jayce’s eyes, the beauty marks on Viktor’s face. The house Talis emblem on Jayce’s jacket; the intricacies of Viktor’s cane and leg brace. The purple and blue glows of the Hextech give the painting an almost magical feeling.

You have to say, this may be your best portrait yet.

A couple hours pass and you deem the painting complete. The two boys sigh, Jayce cracks his back as Viktor cracks his neck. Most of the painting was done is silence, a few tiny conversations sprinkled throughout the process.

You didn’t want them to move.

The two come to where you’re sitting and gaze at the portrait in awe. It’s… them. It looks so life like, as good as a picture. But it’s softer, it looks beautiful.

And they look phenomenal.

“Are you sure that’s us?” Viktor jokes, pointing at the painting, “Those men are incredibly handsome.”

You cock an eyebrow at him, “Now you know what to say when you look in a mirror. That’s how you look, and it’s how you’ll be remembered.”

Jayce smiles and puts a hand on both your and Viktor’s shoulders. Viktor looks touched at the sentiment.

“You should move your art stuff to be here. Permanently.” Jayce states easily.

You almost choke on your own spit, “Pardon? Why would I do that?”

“Because we'd miss you,” Viktor replies a cocky look on his face.

You huff out a laugh, “Ill be of no help to you. I'm not a science brain. I'd just be in the lab drawing you two constantly.”

“We’d pose for you.” Jayce jokes

“Even if I wanted to practice nude anatomy?”

Viktor hums, “Not in the lab obviously, but yes even then.”

You smile at them, “It’s a deal then.”

And to think you were scared they wouldn't be nice to you. You just obtained two pretty muses (hopefully for the rest of your life.)

TADA!!! This was such a cute request. I hope y'all enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it. Pebble, you keep those requests coming (and everyone else who requests too 🫵😏)

I have like four requests now in my inbox and I squealed when I saw it. I've never had so many requests before. Usually my inbox has like… spam and fishing schemes. So this is amazing to me!!

[sabrinajenre96]

“Volcanic Mayhem and Bedtime Battles”

Dr Michael Robinavitch x Doctor wife reader

Warning ⚠️: experiments gone wrong, genius child

Author note: I am considering making a series and I like Dr Robby as a girl dad

The pit was buzzing with the usual controlled chaos: alarms, intercoms, and the endless shuffle of shoes on tile. Dr. Michael Robinavitch adjusted his glasses and leaned over a chart, speaking to one of his residents about a potential appendicitis. Beside him, Y/N—his wife and the most brilliant doctor he'd ever met—was finishing up paperwork with a nurse when her phone buzzed.

Sawyer.

The text was simple: “We’re at the ER. It’s the twins. Don’t freak out.”

Y/N's blood ran cold. “Michael,” she said, urgently tugging his coat sleeve.

Within minutes, they were at the nurse’s station, eyes scanning for their children. And there was Sawyer—still in her leotard and ballet wrap, arms crossed, leaning against the wall with the weariness of a soldier who’d seen things.

“What happened?” Michael asked.

Sawyer gave a dramatic sigh. “Spencer decided the volcano project needed ‘realistic effects.’ Which apparently meant adding vinegar and god knows what else from your locked cabinet, Dad. Grayson got too close, and the whole thing... exploded. Nana called 911 after Grayson started screaming.”

“They’re both okay?” Y/N asked quickly.

“Spencer’s fine. Proud, actually. Grayson’s mostly just mad. But they’re with Dr. Langdon now.”

They rushed to the exam room to find the twins with Dr. Langdon and his intern, Dr. King. Spencer sat on the exam table with a gauze patch above her eyebrow and a sheepish grin. Grayson, arm bandaged, looked extremely done.

“Mom, Dad!” Spencer beamed. “It worked! Not exactly like I planned, but—”

“Spencer Robinavitch,” Y/N warned with her doctor voice. Even Dr. King stood straighter.

Dr. Langdon cleared his throat. “Grayson’s got a mild burn on his arm. Nothing too serious. Spencer has a bump and a cut from the flying bottle cap. No concussion, but she’ll be sore.”

“I told you the pressure valve needed more testing,” Spencer muttered under her breath.

By the time their shift ended and everyone was safely home, Y/N had set up the guest room for Michael’s mother—who looked positively frazzled and had aged five years in one afternoon.

“Mom, stay the night. I’m not arguing,” Y/N said firmly. “Thank you for not running away forever.”

“I considered it,” Michael’s mother muttered as she took the blanket.

Meanwhile, Michael was deep in battle. Bath time with Spencer was a full-contact sport.

“No, you cannot bring goggles into the tub—”

“But they help my brain think!”

“They are fogging up and your brain needs to focus on shampoo.”

In the other room, Sawyer had already bathed Grayson, tucked him in with a bedtime story, and was now lying on her bed scrolling her phone.

“You owe me,” she told Y/N when she peeked in.

“Forever,” Y/N promised.

Later, when the house was finally quiet (aside from the occasional crash from Spencer’s room), Michael and Y/N slipped into their bed. He clicked on a movie—some rom-com she’d been wanting to rewatch—and pulled her close.

“Do you think Spencer will ever... calm down?” he asked, eyes half-lidded.

“She wants to be a doctor. Let’s just be glad she doesn’t want to be a scientist. Or worse—an inventor.”

Michael chuckled. “I love her chaos.”

“I love our chaos,” Y/N whispered, resting her head on his chest.

And as the movie played and the credits rolled, the only explosion that happened was a soft snore from Michael halfway through.

[moonsaver]

Context before getting into the actual idea: I recently saw some fanart based on concept art for Dr Ratio where he has slightly longer, messier hair and the fanart interpreted this as him having a bit of a rebellious phase when he was younger.

So now I’m just thinking about Reader going to school with him when he was going through this phase. He had a bit of a crush on her but didn’t know how to express it so he just messed with her constantly.

And now they meet again when he’s changed and he hasn’t gotten over her she’s just getting massive amounts of whiplash from how wildly different he is. Could be yandere 👀

Anon. I am GRIPPINT YOU BY THE SHOULDERS. Listen. Unfortunately i doubt i did this justice but i tried my best PLEASE okay

A bit long, under the cut!

Its not exactly easy to imagine Dr. Ratio of all people being rebellious, but that just makes it even more possibly believeable in my opinion. I am deeply convinced he has had his crazy scientist, jerkward asshole phase at least once and was soo deeply embarassed the moment he left it.

But listen. His professors all probably HATED him because he would probably constantly correct them, be so disgustingly overeducated to the point they'd send him to the library or tell him to get lost just so he wouldn't disrupt class. He's the infamous asshole who sits wherever he wants, and hoardes an entire table to himself if he's at the library or at the cafeteria. Any student who needs a pen or eraser or a pencil knows he's NOT the one to ask, even if it was in the middle of an exam worth half their grade and he was the only person beside them. He does literally anything he wants and no one can stop him except probably by force, and if they do, something worse ends up happening to them instead.

Anyways, here comes in reader. Probably already knows his sour reputation. Regardless, maybe you're the poor soul who's his seatmate. If the crush is already established, he's constantly bothering you. Asking for stationaries like the entirety of his desk isn't covered by it already (he likes the miniscule interaction), taking your notebooks without your knowledge and sometimes even scribbling inside of them (its his horrid handwriting, he's just trying to help you with detailed notes), he comments on how "lame" your outfit is, asking about your social life, rolling his eyes when your response isn't exactly.. pleasing (he's actually a bit content with it. Perhaps you'll hang out with him more, instead?). You note the smell of alcohol trailing him a bit everytime you interact with him.

It's not easy for him, especially when you can't seem to keep up and look so queasy around him. Aeons, his heart is so twisted up and squeezed everytime he seems to be getting more distant from you, but he just has no idea how to convey his feelings. Not when he didn't even account for the fact he'll have a crush on anyone in the first place.

Anyways, timeskip!

You're probably a researcher of some sort, maybe not so well known. Let's just say for the sake of simplicity you're a researcher on Herta's space station. It's not too soon before he runs into you, probably after the whole mess at the station's been "cleaned up" regarding the curio and whatever. Maybe he doesn't leave right after that interaction with Screwellum, and he decides to, by his curiosity, take a look around once again before he leaves (certainly not because he's heard a familiar name thrown around a few times).

And there you are. In your little research-getup, professional vernacular, hair all neat. He's probably right behind you in an instant, and you turn around to look as the colleague you were talking to suddenly starts stuttering and becoming squeamish while looking behind you. There he is, in all his (cruel?) Glory. The infamous asshole who was your classmate.

But.. it's surprising how much more mellow he's become (at least towards you?). His hair are neatly tamed, his build is taller and more muscular than it was back then, but his attire is also quite tame (if not a little.. fancy?), compared to his brash taste back then. His eyes still seem to hold contempt, but more distantly so.

Veritas figures your mouth is agape and you're speechless considering the change in his countenance as of recent. He's also not yet come to terms with the fact that his heart still twists and squeezes whenever he sees that unsure look on your face. If you were made of clay, and if he could, he'd meld the most beautiful smile on your face with his craftful fingers. Alas, he resorts to tamer methods. At least he supposes he's a wiser man, now. He's more aware of different courting methods.

He asks about your station, your current life, family, friends, etc .. in a seemingly disinterested tone. There's a bit of resignation but hidden constrain in his voice, everytime you mention a "close friend" of yours or a colleague you worked with "closely". But he hasn't been berating you the way he would have back then. His fingers slightly constantly strain, folded behind his back, trying desperately not to taper towards you – there's stray strands of hair on your face. Your headpiece is off centre. Your pen is slanting in your pocket. Your shoulders are too tense. Your eyebrows are furrowed. your eyes look tired. Have your lips always been chapped? They were fine back then.. hold on.

While you stutter out useless formalities and pleasantries, Veritas' eyes scan you over. Time has weathered you well, in his opinion. The thin line of his pressed lips dont quite indicate that. He sighs almost grimly, shutting you up in an instant. He offers you to accompany him and possibly consider joining the Intelligentsia Guild (is it not worth a shot trying? It may be foolish, but he's a tad too desperate when it comes to you). You timidly mumble out a refusal, the words barely leaving your mouth. He nods.

Catching up makes his heart squeeze and rush all over the place. Topics he once tried to teach you back then (by.. VERY unsuccessful methods,) seem to be elementary knowledge to you now. You work more efficiently, hold yourself in a better, more confident way, and you seem to be smoothsailing in your life. Granted, it's technically the bare minimum, but its been so long since he talked to you. The chirp in your voice, the chuckle you let out every now and then despite your nervousness around him, has his heart in his throat. He can't bring himself to try and even "set you straight" by giving you (unwarranted) advice or piddling your achievements, there's a soft smile he's duly hiding behind his scorning face.

He offers you again, if you are unsure about joining the Guild, and discreetly mentions it being filled with imbeciles regardless when you deny again, pulling another string of laughter out of you. Hmph, you weren't so joyful when he made those statements back in high school.

Granted,you're obviously still not quite sure about Veritas' new look. He's still got his infamous reputation as an extremely strict teacher, the oddball with an alabastor head and having worked with the IPC, it's not a pleasant image per se, but it's heaps better than his reputation back at school. You politely make a joke about it, and he groans, earning another cautious, light chuckle from you. He has become different. You prattle on about the length of his hair, his refinement of speech, the difference in how he holds himself now.. it does leave him melting a tad bit inside. You noticed it? Hm. Clever little thing.

Of course, goodbyes are seldom sweet. He does manage to pry out your contact information once again, before. If you don't budge,he finds another way regardless. Your network of colleagues aren't exactly as strong as you might have thought. He remembers this information carefully.

Like the old days, maybe he'll manage to keep slipping notes into your reports and files. Perhaps pull a few strings back in the old days to keep you in his class, he'll slowly knot and twist a few strings to bring and budge you over to his little workplace. Sooner or later, you'll end up in his home. He's sure of it.

And just like the old days, his little seatmate is by his side once again. Care to put up with him for a bit longer? Probably forever, in this case.

[goshtoon]

Jayce Talis Hips

Short Drabble based on certain gif a moot of mine posted a while ago, featuring Jayce Talis councilor era with his fat ass

Jayce Talis x gn!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: suggestive, featuring Jayce Talis ass, featuring Jayce Talis lowkey giving slut, brat!Jayce, sub!Jayce

You wonder if he’s aware of it, hands propped upon his desk, broad back hunched, to catch a better glimpse at the schematics strewn before him.

He notes something down, leaning forward, his behind pertly presented as if on a platter. And he does it again— that slight shake, it’s hypnotic, seeing the focal point of your ever poignant arousal sway left and right, like the pendulum of a clock.

And much like a pendulum it is trance-inducing.

It seems the scientist does it in response to a triumph, at least what he suspects to be one. Each time he seems to have overcome another calculating conundrum he lets out a self satisfied hum, in tandem with the mesmerizing display, his lower body does.

It’s maddening, you press your lips together in concentration as you try your damndest not to nurse your, already sore, lower lip between you teeth.

Akin to Jayce’s muscle memory, your own is no longer under your influence. With your legs pressing against each other, your eyes flitting up to him and down to the block perched upon your lap. You suppress a frustrated sigh, you really wanted finish reading this book.

But now you’ve been stuck on the first page of the last chapter, for a good 15 minutes, leading to it suffering from crinkles, at the haphazardly folded corners, the outlet of your pent up nerves.

A clank and whispered sorry pulls you back to the instigator of your problem.

It makes you wonder if he’s too far in his head, or if you could attempt to bait him. If you must suffer from his mere presence, why shouldn’t he know just how much?

So you give it a start, “What are you thinking for dinner?” you inquire, trying to sound as nonchalantly as possible in your state. Mulling over the leather bound book, as you press it shut.

Jayce huffs, not in frustration but in thought, your query ringing throughout his skull.

“I really liked that place Sky recommended…” he states, casually, over his shoulder, not sparing you a glance just yet.

Your eyes fixated on his backside, as you slowly prop yourself up, placing the unread book atop the, now, abandoned chair.

You hum in thought, gazing at Jayce, watching the muscles in his back shift underneath his, notably tight, cream colored shirt. He tilts his head “Not what you were thinking?”. His voice tinged in wonder, even as his back is turned to you, you, your presence is his sole focus.

“Not really” your heels click across the lab, as you idly take note of all the clutter Viktor had strewn about his own work station. Unsurprised it’s seemingly in a scientists nature to be untidy.

„Anything particular on your mind?“

The wording couldn’t have been more on the nose, because there is something very much particular on your mind.

You’re aching to have him know, know what he does to you. How just small subconscious gestures of his, have you needing him on his knees.

Though you want him to figure it out by himself.

You occupy yourself, picking up a stray cog, turning it over on your fingers, as it reflects the blue hue of the hex-crystal powered machinery before you. Turning your head sideways, from the corner of your eye you see him shift, shooting you a look.

Almost got him hooked.

„I was thinking we could safe the pocket change and get something more local“ Jayce mumbles something underneath his breath, but it’s evident you’ve truly got all of his attention now, as it has him gently prying his gloves off, turning to fully face you.

Leaning against the desk, tapping his notably, ink smudged, chin in thought.

You send him a slight glance over your shoulder.

The display has you smiling to yourself.

„I’m somehow feeling like there’s something, I am missing here“ he mutters, his shining eyes now taking you fully in.

„Well, you are a scientist, figure it out.“

You lilt, gently placing the cog back before sauntering towards your lover. Paralleling his stance, you reach your thumb up to your mouth, pressing your tongue against it.

Jayces eyes follow the display with keen interest, his own tongue darting out to wet his lips.

His half lidded expression soon gets wiped of when your thumb reaches his chin to clean of the ink smudge. The brunette hums lowly in mock displeasure, his eyes falling shut as his eyebrows crinkle, but there’s a very apparent uplift to his lips.

„Are you going to tell me what this is about or am I going to have to beg?“ he whispers, as your warm palm cradles his cheek, him nuzzling into your gentle touch.

„I’m very much not opposed to any begging on your behalf“ you press your lips against the corner of his mouth, ending the affection much to soon, as Jayce tries to chase after your redend lips.

A sharp whine bubbles from his throat, one that has you snorting out a laugh.

„Must you?“ he mumbles, having the look of a kicked puppy as you crowd him against the table. The swell of his prominent arousal already tenting his pants.

„Must I what?“

Another gasp rasps through his chest as you slowly let your hand drift across his hips, mulling your thumb over the hip bone, before moving them to the small of his back.

„I’d like to ask you the very same question“ Jayce’s bottom lip begins visibly trembling, as his pupil widen. His brows draw together, but there’s something about his avoidance of your gaze.

„You knew“ you deduct, he peers at you briefly, his lips drawing together in a small pout.

With the bobbing of his throat, the small droplet of sweat tantalizingly slowly trickling down his exposed neck— the stark look of guilt.

„Councilor Talis were you trying to tease me?“ it comes out with a note of awe, it’s not often Jayce takes this sort of initiative.

Using his title also seems to do something for him, knowing that it holds no weight when he’s with you. He can try to acclaim his superiority as much as possible but it’ll all just melt away with a tilt of your head.

„I wasn’t. I was conducting an experiment“ he choked out, crossing his arms, before peering at your hands drifting down to the enticement of your evening.

„Did it bear any results?“ you mumble, kneading your hands into the muscled yet, pillowed by a nice layer of fat, globes of his ass.

He swallows thickly, letting out harsh puffs of air as his hands rest on your shoulders for purchase. The tenting in his pants more apparent than before, but you barely spare it a glance, much to Jayce’s dismay.

„My partner is undeniably needy“ he exposes his neck as he presses out the words, short breaths slithering out of throat, presenting his canines in the process.

„And my partner is undeniably mouthy today“ you squeeze the fat of his left cheek, raising your brows, watching his jaw slacken. His amber eyes clouding over, as he arches his back into your massaging grip.

„Does that mean no food?“ almost like an excitable dog he tilts his head, his face flushed with sweat pearling at his neck. And those pursed lips, begging to be bitten.

„Well, I would say that all depends on how good you can be“

[hazymoonlinh]

🤔 how about phainon x scientist!fem reader like what you do with mydei, I like your writing 🤭 about that too

“The Coldest Star Meets the Brightest Light”

Part 1| part 2|

(Phainon x Researcher!Reader | Soulmate AU)

She did not believe in soulmates.

Not in the way that others did, anyway.

The concept was nothing more than an anomaly—an unexplained phenomenon of the universe that had no scientific basis, yet persisted in countless cultures across planets. Some claimed it was fate, an unbreakable bond destined to unite two people. Others called it a curse, binding individuals regardless of their will.

She categorized it as biological interference. A chemical reaction. Nothing more.

And yet—when she set foot in Amphoreus, standing amidst the blinding light of a battle between the Astral Express crew and an unknown warrior—her entire understanding of reality fractured.

Because the moment he turned, the moment his piercing blue gaze locked onto hers—her entire being froze.

A Fateful Encounter

Phainon had appeared in an instant, his entrance marked by a slash so swift that Dan Heng’s weapon shattered upon impact. His presence was radiant, overwhelming—like standing too close to a sun, its heat and gravity pulling everything toward it.

But he wasn’t looking at them.

He was looking at her.

“You.” His voice was deep, steady—yet beneath it was something else. Something shaken. “Who are you?”

She didn’t answer. Her brain was still processing the impossible.

This feeling—this pull—was unlike anything she had ever experienced. It was not logical. It was not quantifiable. And yet, it was absolute.

Soulmates.

No.

No, no, no.

“That’s not important,” she finally replied, forcing her voice to remain level. She ignored the way her heartbeat threatened to betray her. “Stand down. We’re only here to investigate—”

Phainon stepped closer, ignoring her words entirely.

“No,” he murmured, as if he were speaking more to himself than anyone else. “No way… It’s you.”

His expression was unreadable—somewhere between disbelief and something softer.

It was unbearable.

She refused to acknowledge this.

Soulmates did not exist.

“I have no connection to you.” Her words were cold, detached—the same tone she used when analyzing test subjects. “Do not mistake me for something I am not.”

Phainon blinked.

And then, to her absolute horror—he laughed.

It was a soft chuckle at first, then a full, warm, delighted laugh, as if her rejection was the funniest thing he had ever heard.

“Oh, this is gonna be fun.”

She stiffened. “Excuse me?”

Phainon grinned, and it was the kind of grin that spelled trouble.

“You think you can just walk away?” His tone was playful, but there was something deeper beneath it—something sure. “Like it or not, we’re connected now. And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”

Her fingers twitched against the data pad she had instinctively grabbed. “I am not yours.”

“Not yet,” he agreed easily. “But you will be.”

Escape Was Not an Option

She left.

Of course she did.

After her mission ended, after she left Amphoreus, she returned to Herta’s Space Station. Back to her research, back to normalcy.

She had hoped the feeling would fade. That the inexplicable warmth lingering in her chest would disappear over time.

It didn’t.

Worse, she soon found that no matter where she went, she felt watched. Not in a threatening way—no, Phainon’s presence wasn’t the kind that instilled fear. It was something far more annoying.

Persistent. Playful. Patient.

He was waiting.

And then—one day—he stopped waiting.

An Unwanted Visitor

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

His voice was warm as ever—too warm, considering he was currently standing in her pristine laboratory, arms crossed, looking like he belonged there despite absolutely not belonging there.

She stared at him, unamused. “First of all, I left. Second of all, how did you even get in here?”

Phainon shrugged. “I have my ways.”

A pause.

“…Trailblazer helped you, didn’t they?”

His grin widened. “I have my ways.”

She exhaled slowly, setting her data pad aside. “I’m busy. If this is about that ridiculous soulmate nonsense—”

“It’s not nonsense.”

The sudden shift in his tone made her pause. It wasn’t teasing anymore. There was no mischief in his gaze. Only certainty.

Her chest tightened.

“Look,” Phainon continued, stepping closer. “I get it. You’re logical. You like things that make sense. But you felt it too, didn’t you?”

She remained silent.

His expression softened. “It’s not something you can explain. It just is.”

“That’s exactly why I reject it.” Her voice was quiet but firm. “I refuse to let something dictate my choices. Even if—” She hesitated. “Even if this connection exists, I won’t be forced into it.”

Phainon studied her for a long moment.

And then, instead of arguing—he smiled.

“Good,” he said simply.

She blinked. “…Good?”

“I don’t want you to accept it just because fate says so.” He tilted his head, the golden glow of the station’s lights reflecting in his icy blue eyes. “I want you to accept it because you choose me.”

That caught her off guard.

“…And you think I will?”

Phainon’s grin turned knowing.

“I know you will.”

She scoffed. “Have anyone told you you’re insufferable ?”

“And you’re adorable when you pretend you don’t care.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “You’re coming with me.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Back to Amphoreus.” His tone was far too casual. “We need to spend more time together. Y’know, bonding.”

“I have work—”

Phainon tapped her data pad, causing it to turn off.

“You have me now.”

She stared at him.

He stared right back.

For the first time in her life, she had no calculated response.

Phainon only chuckled, offering a hand. “Come on, genius. Let’s see if I can change your mind.”

Against all logic—she hesitated.

And for Phainon? That was already a victory.

TO BE CONTINUED…

How’s that for a start? Phainon’s warmth clashing with her cold logic, their instant connection, and his playful yet patient pursuit—this is gonna be fun. Let me know if you want Part 2!

I took extra time to polish it since you have waited for a week hehe.

Have anyone seen 3.1 trailer ? So cool.

[keferon]

I'm about to be running on very little sleep as Final's just hit. So I whipped this up really fast, because I am now a sucker for Texaid. Hopefully by the end of Finals I can start working on that texaid animatic i'd say i do. ________

[COME ON IN BABY~] The white text on Vortex's ever red screen showed, before he was opening up, allowing the medic turned pilot to step inside. Felix doesn’t think he’d ever get used to Vortex calling him baby, it was weird and annoying when he did it the first couple of times. But now It has become a comfort for him, it lets him know that Vortex is not really all that serious, and is trying to get a kick out of him.  All of his other pilots couldn’t take a joke, to which he reminds the haunted mecha that he killed or mentally damaged them before he really got to know any of them. [THEY WERE NEVER AS FUN AS YOU.]

“Flattered.”

Felix takes his seat, hooking himself up with the neural link so they can talk in real time.

“So any big plans on how to take care of this one?” The mecha powers up, much like the few others still in the station. Rodimus, and a few others he has really only spoken to once, as they are still too scared of him and his mecha.

‘I’d say let's have some fun with it, we haven’t had one dancing in a while.’ Felix chuckled at the suggestion, but nods. It would be fun to get one of those aliens to get itself tangled up in its tentacles trying to grab at them.

‘I’d known you’d take my suggestion baby.’ xxx

[DO YOU TRULY FEEL SAFE INSIDE ME?]

Felix looks back at the closed visor, the dead of night had hit. Frankly Felix does not want to try and walk through the halls where he might end up running into Pharma, he’s been acting weird lately, more than usual. 

“Yes, I do. Funny isn’t it. You can kill me in the most gruesome way, yet I'd much rather be with you, then finding myself face to face with a fellow human.” Felix smoothed out the sleeping bag on Vortex’s floor, fluffing up the pillow, then made his way inside to fall asleep. [YOU ARE WEIRD.] “I thought you liked that about me?” There was a long pause, before the sound of grinding gears entered his ears. The sound of metal laughing. 

[YES I DO. NOW SLEEP. BEFORE I CHANGE MY MIND AND GRIND YOU UP INTO A PAST.] An empty threat. Felix finds himself smiling. He reached out of his sleeping bag to pat at the surprisingly warm metal. “Whatever you say, Vortex.” His eyes were already shut, not being able to see the next line of text.

[SLEEP WELL FELIX BABY.]

xxx

[STOP IT YOU’RE HURTING HIM, STOP IT YOU’RE HURTING HIM, STOP IT YOU’RE HURTING ME, STOP IT YOU’RE HURTING US.] No matter how much he begged for Felix’s life, no matter if Shockwave could see him or not. The mad scientist was not stopping, Felix’s screams were not ceasing. 

While the screams of the perishing were normally something he relished in, delighted in hearing. This was not one he ever wished to hear. The agony in Felix's voice was loud and uncomfortable, he wished he could reach inside of himself and pull Felix out. 

But that would hurt Felix, he knows it will. It would harm him to a point he could no longer be his pilot. So he pleaded, he did something he never thought he’d stoop so low too. Yet he did. He did it because he wanted to stay by Felix’s side for as long as he could. 

Because he wanted to hear Flixes’s voice, he wanted to feel his excitement as they crushed the alien invaders, his curiosity when dissecting them to see how their body’s worked. He wanted their late night talks, just them in the silence of an inactive mecha charging station. 

He wanted this and so much more. 

But he won’t get it if Shockwave completely take’s over Felix’s body. 

He had to do something and fast.

‘Hang on Felix, I'm coming.’ 

My texaid soul IS THRIVING

[moldri]

I made some designs for my favourite nomai!! kiiiinda wish I made em more goatlike but ohhh well

in order: solanum, poke, pye, idaea :D

unrendered versions + my thoughts behind the designs under the cut!!! (spoilers ofc)

rbs are appreciated these took ages lol I am slowest artist ever

SO here were my thoughts for the designs

solanum: quantum moon motif!! she’s intended to be mostly monochrome (even tho the colour filters I used make her look purple) and purple eyes + clothes bc eye of the universe yknow yknow, and the swirly patterns on her clothes are how I draw clouds but my friend said they also look like the nomai writing which yes!! totally intentional awesome double meaning LOL :> and the circle glasses bc people keep giving her them and it’s adorable ignore the fact that 3/4 designs have glasses IT SUITS THEM ALL OK

poke: yes!! asymmetrical design!! since I based her off the white/black holes since she’s the one who recreated the warp cores yknow yknow AND the icy blue eyes… ice….. interloper…..ehehehehehe >:) also the pattern on her clothes is the pattern on the glass on the advanced warp core!! same with pye

also the matching warp core earrings with pye I thought I was sooooo clever for that one I love yuri

pye: admittedly for these last two I did not have as many ideas as the first two BUT I did kind of want her to have a vaguely mad scientist vibe? hence the big kinda messy ponytail and cracked glasses and also green… bc ghost matter….ehehehehehe

idaea: sadly I had even LESS ideas for him but im still happy with the design!! my main ideas were making him look very neat/collected and have a sun station motif… the pattern on this clothes are the patterns from gravity tiles!!

also here are the unrendered versions!!

I hope you guys like these🫶🫶🫶

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #28

Solomon: Boil up some Mountain Dew. It’s gonna be a long night

Barbatos: You could have said anything else

Solomon: Cauldron boil and cauldron bubble, Baja blast to fuel my trouble

•

MC: Got a vibe check at Claire’s

Thirteen: How was it?

MC: I have 3 weeks to live

•

Mammon: If only I were Kpop. Then you’d all see.

Leviathan: You’re already popular and widely hated. What more do you want???

Mammon: Thanks for saying that

•

Belphegor: How does it feel to be a god?

MC: Idk ask me after I do 10 pushups

Beelzebub: Do ten pushups then

MC: Fuck you. No

•

Belphegor: Might fuck around and walk into a thick fog and never return idk

•

Mammon: Mark my fucking worms

Satan: This statement dealt 10 damage to everyone in a 2 mile radius

•

Solomon:

Help me, I am trapped

Inside a haiku factory

Save me, before they

Simeon:

I got your message

And have snuck my way inside

Oh my god, what the

•

Asmodeus: You’re all beautiful in your own special way

Leviathan: Actually, I am very ugly

Asmodeus: Okay then I was wrong

•

Leviathan: You know what better than weed? Water

Mammon: Here’s the dumb bitch again

Leviathan: Shut up you dehydrated high motherfucker

•

Raphael: Why does baby Yoda have completely different eyes to as an adult…

Diavolo: Puberty

Leviathan: You know how people’s baby teeth fall out

Raphael: Thank you for equally awful answers

•

Asmodeus: The sexual tension between two gas stations on the same intersection

Thirteen: I’m so sick of this shit. Two gas stations can’t even be on the same block without someone shipping them, while I can’t find a single fic of Denny’s/Applebee’s with Denny bottoming

Solomon: You’re literally out of your mind if you think Denny’s isn’t a top

Lucifer: I wish the 2012 apocalypse actually happened

•

Asmodeus: Does anyone know a single redeeming fact about New Hampshire? Is anything good about it?

MC: Letters can be arrange to spell “heh…penis warm”

Asmodeus: How tragic that a place so wretched should be blessed

•

Solomon: I think we can be evil. As a treat

MC: We?

Solomon: We :)

•

MC: Old people? More like fold people

*makes an origami swan out of grandma*

Lucifer: Literally what was going through your mind that motivated you to make this?

•

Leviathan: Tumblr is just talking to yourself but for an audience

Simeon: That’s called a soliloquy

Leviathan: Found the theater kid. Get em boys

•

Mammon: Coats and jackets are too aesthetically pleasing to only wear during the cold seasons. I think scientists need to stop doing their dumb bullshit and band together to invent a jacket that can be worn whilst it’s hot out

Mephistopheles: Vests?

Mammon: You’re so lucky a computer screen protects you from my hands

Last • Next

[cherrrydragon]

➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)

CHAPTER ONE: WE'RE NOT IN KANSAS ANYMORE

← back to chapter list

SUMMARY ↳ A large machine stationed on both sides of the room, pointed ends meeting each other. A particle accelerator. pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne wc: 2.1k

In every universe the Spider is a hero. Some go by different names, some can create their own organic webs, and some have their own cat burglar to wrestle with. One constant, for sure, is that they all are bitten by a spider. You are not the exception.

You were bit when you were 13, and for the last 5 years, you have been the “one and only” Spinnerette! It had been a rocky start, but things are looking okay now. You’ve got a family, a real, strong and fun family.

“You’ve been officially added to my hitlist, Tony, watch you’re motherfucking back.”

“Oh, goody. You might be the only person who hasn’t hired a sniper on me before.”

Loving family, of course.

There was an idea to put together a group of remarkable people to see if they could fight the battles humanity could not. It was called the “Avenger Initiative.” A billionaire, super soldier, scientist, Russian spy, master archer and a God walk into a Shawarma restaurant, wonder what it leads to. The Avengers currently all (mostly) live in the former Stark Tower.

You also currently live in the former Stark Tower. It’s a dream come true. Everyone is happy, everyone is healthy, and your relationships with each Avenger is thriving.

“When’s the last time you ate, kiddo?” asks Tony, stepping inside your personal lab he had gifted you for your 15th birthday. Your hands move deftly, fluid and familiar in fixing your web-shooters.

“A definitely normal time,” is your reply. “Hey, what did you do with the Iron Spider suit? I’ve been looking for it everywhere. I’m thinking about tweaking some of the web combinations.”

“It’s charging, where else would it be? Also, here.” He puts a bag of sandwiches from Delmar’s. You grin and reach out for it. “You know me so well.”

“I know you best,” he clicks, and reaches out to ruffle your hair, only because you let him. “Can you tell Nat I fixed her widow bites? And tell Sam I fixed that dent in his wings, too.” You take a bite of a sandwich. “I’m unna pakrol inna vit.”

He pinches your cheek. “Don’t talk with your mouth full, it’s disgraceful.” Stay safe.

“[Name], it may be more efficient to patrol without music blasting in your ears,” says your ever so faithful AI, Karen.

You huff goodnaturedly. “ Ear , Karen. Singular. It’s never screwed me over before, I promise I am a responsible music listener.” The thwip of your webs shooting out has always been a comforting sound. It’s a reminder, of who you are, of what you stand for. All your accomplishments (failures too, but the pain is grounding.) “Also, please place an order for the new Batman comic, I forgot to do it earlier.”

“I find it contradicting how you say you are a casual enjoyer, yet own nearly every issue of any and all related Batman comics.”

“I don’t believe in consistency… or whatever Hobie would say.”

The discovery and confirmation of the multiverse was not as surprising as it should’ve been, but it was daunting all the same. You’ve never really been alone since your life at the Tower, but it was a whole new type of connection, finding out there were other Spiders, other you’s . Then, of course, there was that whole “Miles, you’re the original anomaly!” fiasco. Luckily, the situation ended up resolved, and there are (mostly) no hard feelings. You haven’t met another [Name] [L.Name] yet, but there are plenty of other Spider’s to learn from.

“Numerous suspicious activity reports have taken place downtown. I suggest checking it out.”

“You’re the boss, Karen.” You twist your body, changing your momentum and direction, heading downtown. You do flips and tricks, with all the grace of a ballerina. The nanotech is perfectly flexible enough for your dramatics. Tony had spontaneously made the suit for you, as the fabric of your old one didn’t provide as much armor as he needed for peace of mind.

“I am detecting a multiversal instability. Tread carefully.”

The eyes of your suit squint. “Get Miguel on this.”

It isn’t often a multiversal problem pops up in your universe. With people like Stephen Strange and Wanda Maximoff holding cosmic power in relation to interdimensional activity, and the Space Stone itself, your universe holds up well in defense to multiverse activity. But even so, space is unpredictable.

Miguel, despite all his grievances with you and the Peter Parker of Earth-199999, equipped you both with a Web-Watch (you and the other Spiderlings agreed Gizmo was lame). You don’t use it much unless it’s to go chill at the Spider HQ or visit the other ‘Lings in their universes. Whatever iota of guilt he felt after the whole Miles thing manifested itself as overprotectiveness, and he insists on dealing with all spatial related problems himself. You’ll indulge him, if only to bother him about the tech in his universe.

You’re met with a warehouse, abandoned, because of course it is. “No heat signature’s,” you mumble, the suit scanning for signs of life. You hop down through a hole in the roof silently, looking around. There’s random tech and machine parts scattered around, which is never a good sign. It’s easy to miss for the untrained eye, but you spot a hidden elevator mechanism and step inside it. If anything goes wrong, you trust your spider-sense to get you the hell out of dodge.

The way down is ominous, if not for the almost complete darkness, then for the red blinking lights. Your sense tingles, not sensing any immediate danger, but very uncomfortable down here.

d on’t feel good not safe for long leave quickly

Going en pointe (because going on your actual tippy toes to increase stealth is just way too good), you sneak carefully. Just because there are no living dangers doesn’t mean there are none at all. The room is as dark as the rest of the place, and while you can turn on night vision, it’s not as efficient in understanding what the hell you might be looking at.

“Karen, is there a light switch in here?” Your voice echoes in the large room.

“To your left, [Name].” Sure enough, there actually is a light switch that you find after groping the wall. “Huh,” you hum, pleasantly surprised. A flick of the switch activates the many overhead lights and reveals a daunting sight.

A large machine stationed on both sides of the room, pointed ends meeting each other.

A particle accelerator.

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Ok- uh. Karen, contact Tony, and Bruce. Can you tell if it’s been active recently?”

“I am picking up a recent signal, yes. I theorize the recent earthquakes are because of test runs.”

Miles once told you his story. Finding the particle accelerator, his Spider-Man’s death. You remember placing a hand on his shoulder, and you remember him grasping it tightly. It was a complicated time in his life.

“How did he destroy it again…?” you murmur, looking around the machine. “A goober.. right. How did Peni make it, though?” Pulling up your wrist, you scan the machine. “Please contact Peni as well, K.”

Stilling your posture, you look up at the accelerator. You have no doubt nothing good will come from whoever is behind this. Those who try to manipulate powers greater than them always receive a rude awakening. Maybe, by the grace of some higher power, you can somehow rope the Space Stone into this. You know better than to think they don’t have some kind of sentience. Maybe you’re just getting ahead of yourself–

watch out! behind you!

When you turn around, there’s nothing behind you. You’re on high alert now. Your sense doesn’t make mistakes, so either a sniper is pointing his gun at you, or someone who can cloak themselves in around you, and neither of those are good. You breathe in, honing your senses, the situation is far too delicate for you to stumble.

“Show yourself,” you demand. “If you’re smart enough to build this then understand when I say I will find you.”

there! right there!

You turn and send a web to where your senses pointed. The person grunts, trapped in your solution. You pull them toward you. “Show yourself,” you repeat.

A sigh leaves the person's mouth. Then, slowly, their form reveals itself. It’s like Miles' ability to go invisible. Before you is someone your age, must be. And yet the way they carry themselves is reminiscent of somebody who has been through far too much for someone their age. So, basically every Spider you know.

Which is on brand apparently, because this person must be like you. There is no other possibility. The web patterns on their suit, the bug eyes of their mask, the invisibility thing.

“You’re…” you mutter.

“Like you,” they finish.

Your eyes narrow. “The hell are you doing, man? Surely a Spider knows this if some fuckshit,” you gesture to the massive machine. “What are you even doing here?”

Their suits eyes squint. “It’s a delicate matter.”

“Yeah. Obviously,” you roll your eyes. “Not like a bridge to different dimensions is any walk in the park.”

“It’s none of your business,” they huff.

“Hell yeah, it is. You’re me, basically. You’re building a particle accelerator in my universe. By the way, let’s talk about that. Why not just carry out your evil plans in your own home? Did Venom get you or something? We can like, do something about that. Probably–”

“Enough nonsense,” they spit.

“Oh, okay.”

The room lights up, and the particle accelerator whirls to life. The room shakes, no doubt another earthquake beginning to affect the city. A whirlwind of colors fill your vision. Your hand curls the cuff of their suit into your fist.

“What did you do.”

“I’m doing what I have to.”

It happens fast, far faster than your senses could have warned you. Your web restricting them snaps and their hands grab you.

“You’ll survive.” Their hands destroy your watch. “I’m not so cruel.”

And you’re thrown into the web of the universe.

Waking up in an unfamiliar environment has happened far more times than it should have. It’s instinct that pulls you up from the ground. Your body is sore, your head hurts, and the eyes of your suit are genuinely tweaking.

“Karen…” you groan.

“I am unable to connect to any Mr. Stark’s satellites. I detect multiple bruises all over your body, no broken bones. The suit is in functioning condition, 92% charge left.”

“Yeah, we are definitely not in New York anymore. My New York, anyway.” You look up. Your environment is gloomy, the skies are gray, and the buildings have seen better days.

“I’ve connected to the satellites I can detect that are currently in orbit.”

“I need out of this suit, K.” The nanites retract into your web-shooters, now disguised as regular bracelets. You pause and think. “Gimme some glasses, actually. I still need you.” A couple of nanites crawl up your body and form frames on your face. “I can always count on you, K.”

“I’ve created a route to a public library with computers for you.”

The walk to the library has you on edge. Your sense isn’t exactly reacting like it would when you’re in immediate danger, but it’s buzzing constantly. You sigh to yourself. There should’ve been a protocol made for this as soon as you found out about the multiverse. It would’ve definitely been called the “We’re Not In Kansas Anymore Protocol.”

“I’ll start making that protocol for you,” Karen says. You hadn’t realized you’d been talking outloud, sighing. “Thanks, K.”

People keep glancing at you when you walk by before ultimately minding their own business. You’re sure that you give them that uncanny valley feeling, even if you look like a regular human. Effects of being from another universe, you guess. 

Walking up the steps to the library, you think about your next move. You should worry about living your situation. You have no clue how long you’ll be here before someone finds you (or, god forbid, you build your own way back home). You know how to be sneaky and steal, hopefully it doesn’t have to come to that though. You look up, thinking, and pause when your eyes spot something.

Gotham City Public Library.

What. The. Fuck.

In hindsight, it shouldn’t be so surprising. Infinite universes, infinite possibilities, so on and so forth. It had never crossed your thoughts that the silly stories you like (read: obsess over) could be a real universe out there. You don’t like to think about it too hard.

“Karen. Where are we.”

“My map tells me we are currently located in Gotham City, New Jersey.” Big yikes.

“Okay. Change of plans. We are going anywhere but here. Let’s just make up a fake identity, first. And get a job. I deserve a couple of days to think.” No way in hell are you going anywhere near that library where goddamn Oracle works.

It’ll be best to avoid everyone all together.

notes: title is a lyric from "Saturn" by SZA.

[melancholymetropolis]

Big Ole Freak

plot: A curious archivist accidentally summons Ryomen Sukuna

pairings: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

genre(s): MONSTERFUCKING; Shameless Smut

warnings: unedited (mostly). canon divergence. d/s role. FEMDOM Y/N. bratty sub Sukuna. breathplay. choking (m receiving). reader is shy at first but kinda bossy towards the end. fight for dominance lowkey. PIV SEX. sukuna had four arms and used all of them. TEASING. fingering. creaming. possessive sukuna. feral reader. lowkey pining. talks out love. overthinker reader. pet names (kuna, pet, baby, monster, etc.) dirty talk. oral (f receiving). praising. multiple positions. rounds and rounds and rounds.

w.c: 8.2k

a/n: if I told you that almost 5.5k is smut would you believe me?

“Testing,” I said into the tape recorder. “One, two.”

I played the audio back and grimaced at the sound of my own voice. After years of extensive research, one could only hope to move past that insecurity. I deleted the recording and placed the device on the table. I dimmed the lights within the small community library and opted to turn on a few electric candles. I adjusted my wire-rim glasses and pulled my mini-twists into a ponytail. Once satisfied with the set-up, I slipped on white cotton gloves and pressed play on the recording.

“Good Evening, listener,” I said politely into the device. “My name is Dr. Y/N L/N, senior archivist at Jujutsu Library here in Japan. I hope you are doing well.”

I proceeded to place a heavy box on the table and continued to talk. “I am using this recording to document the initial opening of the Ryomen Grimoire. It was reported to be a book of spells for a powerful emperor named Sukuna, all the way back in the Nara period of Japan. For reference, that would be somewhere in the 1100s.” I cleared my throat the remark and placed two hands on the lid. “There is not that much history on the empire, as his life is riddled with mystery. There are far too many conflicting reports about who Sukuna was and how he came to be one of the most ruthless rulers of all time. Some say it was due to him being orphaned at a very young age. Others say it was his father's abuse of him. Then, there is a tale of lost love. Apparently, a woman he was dating had cheated on him and fallen pregnant with another man’s baby.” 

I cleared my throat again and started to rub it gently. There was a subtle tightness around the area that caused irritation to my whole being. But, that hadn’t been the only thing. I could feel chills slowly drifting down my spine and goosebumps began to rise on my arms. The sensation was odd on many accounts. The first being that I was in the basement of the library. It was notoriously known for being without an air conditioner. I had spent many days, drenched in sweat, archiving old materials. There had been a crappy fan stationed here, but its winds were too powerful for such delicate papers. The second odd thing about the room was that I hadn’t been particularly cold, nor scared to obtain said goosebumps. I was not trembling with fear or on the brink of freezing to death. My body was utterly calm and my mind totally clear. My temperature was neutral; I wasn’t hot or cold. Reading grimoires and looking at so-called “haunted” materials was a typical Sunday for me. It wasn’t something that brought me joy or excitement, it was just my job.

“As you possibly tell by my brief description, the stories conflict quite a bit,” I continued on. “One cannot be an orphan with a father or vice versa. In all truth, researchers are all confused as to who he truly is. They are trying to figure out what kind of man he was and how he impacted Japan’s history. This is why the discovery of his grimoire was massive and brought in a lot of attention. Scientists from all over the world are flying in to witness its contents. But, lucky for us, Jujustu Library is the first one to get their hands on it.”

I undid the metal latches on the side and began to raise the lid. A retched stench tore through the air upon opening it. My body shivered with disgust and I felt myself gag a little. 

“Note to self,” I said to the recorder. “Please restock facemasks as soon as possible.”

I’d simply cut that part out later. 

I tucked my nose in my shirt and inhaled deeply. “I will now take the grimoire out of the box.”

The book was approximately twelve inches wide and fourteen inches thick. When I had dropped my hands in the box and grasped the edges, I could tell by the weight that it was about eight hundred pages long. It was a remarkable five to six inches thick, with a leather buckle holding it shut.  I placed the heavy object on the table with a gentle “thud and proceeded to unlatch the leather binding. Small flecks of dust seeped from the pages as the pressure was released from the latch. They painted the white table a subtle rusty brown color.

“It seems to me that the book has been stored in some kind of volcanic environment,” I observed, adjusting my glasses. “The dust particles have a reddish tint to them. This insinuates that the box must've been buried in iron-rich soil. This kind of dirt can be found near recently erupted volcanoes. Magma has high levels of magnetite phenocrysts, which hardens over time and creates magnetite iron.” I looked closely at the lid of the crate and hummed. “This theory is justified by the imperfections on the outside of the crate. There a subtle singe marks on the lib of the box and on the left side. This is interesting, to say the least.” I cleared my throat. “I will now peel back the cover of the book.”

True to my word, I took the cover of the grimoire in my hands gently and peeled it back to reveal the cover page. 

“There is a scripture written on the first page,” I said, bringing my face closer to the brown pages. “It’s quite, faded, but I will do my best to read it aloud.”

As definite as the sun

And consistent as the moon

The power of Ryomen Sukuna will possess us all.

The King of Curses is a God to Many

Ruler of all things dark and cruel

Father to the monster of the below.

He feasts on the innocent 

Lusts for the wicked 

And craves all things violent. 

“The last part is a little hard to read. There seems to be a substance covering the last stanza,” I mumbled, a little frustrated at the notion. I sighed deeply and adjusted my position at the table. I walked over to the far edge and dug into my tool bag. I pulled out a magnifying glass and a flashlight. I brought the touch a safe distance away from the book and clicked it on. With the magnifying glass directly behind it, I was able to decipher the words rather quickly. 

With the moon at a crescent 

And a lady nearby

Ryomen will come alive

She will call out to him

Bring him back to the land of living

And he will conquer it all once again

Suddenly, the light above the table began to flicker and buzz. The moment I raised my head to look at it, the light clicked off.  The room was shrouded in darkness, aside from the little flashlight in my hand. I used the little beam to direct myself to the room’s exit. I gripped the handle of the door and gave it a fierce turn, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck. With all my strength, I pulled and pushed at the heavy metal door. I tried my best to remain calm. I knew better than to let panic consume my body and make me behave irrationally. This wasn’t the first time creepy things happened when I conducted research on a haunted object. There were instances where the object flew across the room whenever I came near it. Other times, random scratches appeared on my body. I have had my fair share of weird things happening to me in the presence of cursed objects. But, locking me in the room with it was a new one. The entity attached to the artifact would much rather have me far away from it, not in the same vicinity as me. 

A warm gust of wind brushed against my back, making my body tense. I could hear the familiar crackle of fire in the distance as a purple-ish light filled the room. I turned my body slowly toward the table. My eyes widened at the sight. A flock of magenta flames had covered the surface of the black table, while black smoke filled the space around it. Within the fire, a deep, menacing laugh appeared. It filled the room instantly and brought shivers down my spine. My legs buckled and eventually gave out as I watched the scene unfold before me. My back slid against the metal door and my rear ended up on the floor. Gradually, a figure started to appear in the flames. 

There was a head covered in unruly, spiky hair; which led to a thick neck and shoulders. A set of arms started to materialize, followed by another. 

“Dear God. . .” The realization of what was happening had sank in.

That was Ryomen Sukuna.

I had summoned Ryomen Sukuna without meaning to.

I was utterly fucked.

The last part of the body to materialize was the eyes. There were four of them. The first set had sat normally on the face, while the other appeared beneath the. The bright red pupils seemed to glow in the heart of the flames and they seemed to be staring directly at me. A wide, sinister smile slowly formed on the King’s face, followed by a seductive lick across his pointed teeth. The laugh continued to echo throughout the room and it was the thing of nightmares. Something in my being had told me I would not survive the end of the night— that the King of Curses would slaughter me the moment he had the chance. He was not known for being kind, so I knew pleading would do nothing to help me. I would just have to accept my fate, which sucked in more ways than one. 

I would never be able to do all the things I always wanted to do.

Like traveling across the world, or sleeping in the Palace of Versailles. I wanted nothing more than to feel like a Queen, even if it were just for a day.

I would never learn how to be a sculptor. I had imagined my work being in museums all over Europe and people calling me the next Divinici. 

I would never tell Robert from Accounting how I felt about him. Granted the crush was still fresh and I had just realized my feelings a week ago. But, I was never one to act on those kinds of things. I knew that wanting love would lead to heartache and pain. My dating track record had been nothing short of a horror movie and I never truly had a partner like ever. Which was completely pathetic, since I was swiftly approaching thirty and never even. . .

The clearing of a throat snapped me from my head. I raised my vision back to the table and gulped slowly. The magenta flames had dissipated and the black smoke had cleared. Leaning on the edge was a man— a term I use very loosely. He was massive, probably standing somewhere between eight and nine feet tall. The thick, black-lined tattoos decorated his pale skin. They made him look even scarier. He was shirtless, and his broad chest had a dull sheen to it. He wore a pair of purple, wide-legged pants and traditional Japanese sandals. Even with their loose design, I can almost spot his muscular legs beneath them. Along with a semi-noticeable bulge in the crotch area. 

A fierce blush flared up on my face and I quickly looked away.

“So that is why you summoned me?” He teased, crossing both sets of arms across his chest. “The little lamb wanted to get fucked by a real man?”

The voice was deep and unnatural. It sent shivers through my body. The tingles weren’t from fear, however. They were from something else. Something a little more carnal than that. 

I slowly raised my body from the floor and pressed my back to the metal door once more. “Well, if we are being quite honest,” I said, clearing my throat. “You are not a man and haven’t been one for a long time. A very long time.”

“Oh?” He smirked, leaning forward just a little bit. “So, you summoned me to get fucked by a monster? Is that it?”

“That’s not it, at all,” I interjected, calmly. “It was not my intention to summon you at all. I was simply submitting your grimoire to our archives. I must have done it by accident, somehow.”

He hummed, unamused. 

 Sukuna’s four eyes were trained on me. He took in my long passion twists and how they were pulled back into a high ponytail. They traveled down my face, taking in my cocoa skin and plump lips. He held his gaze on my mouth for what seemed like an entirety before moving down to my neck and ample bosoms. He sped right past those and my midsection, before zeroing in on my legs. I had been wearing a skirt that fell just above my knees, so the chubby limbs had been on display. The four pupils seemed to be glued to the pale panty-hose covering the thick thighs beneath them. They seemed to be calculating something. Maybe he was determining just how flexible I was or pondering how a woman could be that tall. 

Whatever he was thinking about had swiftly left his mind the moment I cleared my throat.

The eyes snapped back up to me and a wicked grin formed on his face.

“There’s something. . . different about you,” he said, suddenly. “Something. . . off.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, adjusting my glasses.

“Well, if we’re being honest,” he mocked, completely mimicking my statement for moments before. “It is not easy to summon anything, especially a demon. Even a lower-ranking demon would require some kind of preparation before his expected arrival.” The hulking monster took a small step toward me, the smile growing wider. “And as you know, little researcher, I am not an easy demon to summon. It takes a really strong mage to summon me at all, let alone by accident.”

In the blink of an eye, he was right in front of me. His face was inches away from mine and his upper arms rested above my head. One of the hands from the lower arms had taken hold of my chin softly and tilted it upward. It forced me to look him in the eye. The smile on his face was devilish, but not at all sinister. Sukuna didn’t necessarily want to scare me it seemed. His other intention? I had no fucking idea. 

“I cannot smell fear on you, little human,” he growled. “Not one ounce. But do you know what I do smell?”

He waited. 

He wanted me to respond to his question.

“What?”

“Curiosity.” He let the word roll from his tongue like it was something precious.

“Well, of course,” I scoffed. “I am an archivist. It is my job to be curious.”

“No no no,” the monster shook his head. “That’s not it.” He brought his face closer until our noses were an inch apart. “You are curious about what I can do for you.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, wiggling my chin from his grasp. 

Sukuna moved his back and dropped his smile to a smirk. His upper arms were still above my head, while his lower ones were caging my body. “I can smell you, sweetheart.”

“What?” My eyes widened. “Smell what?”

“Your arousal,” he answered. “And it smells so, very sweet.”

My bottom lip fell between my teeth as felt the blush slowly rise up my cheeks.

His chuckle was deep and raw— and it made my panties even wetter than before. His eyes scanned over my body once again, revisiting the old territory. By the twitching bulge in his pants, I could tell the feeling was mutual. I could feel the heat radiating between our bodies and we haven’t necessarily touched yet. Mine was screaming and begging for my mind to take the opportunity. Finding Sukuna’s grimoire had taken up almost all of my spare time; making it even harder to seek fulfillment in other avenues. I didn’t know when was the last time I entangled my limbs with someone else’s. The temptation was real and strong. I almost didn’t know what to do. 

“Hand me the voice recorder,” I sighed with a stern look on my face. “It’s the little gray device near the box.”

With the snap of his fingers, the recording was nestled in my right hand. The King of Curses didn’t move one inch. I brought my eyes back up to his face and took in his devious smirk. It was so knowing and seemed unsurprised of my choice. He almost expected it and I hated that. 

I pressed the “stop” button on the device and tossed it aside. I made sure to never break eye contact with the eight-foot monster as my hands lowered to my shirt. My fingers found the buttons and slowly started to undo each one. The King of Curses swiftly lost our little staring contest and stared directly at my chest. My cleavage grew one inch at a time and it seemed he grew harder by the second. Once I was on the last button, Sukuna brought his hands up to touch my breasts, but I immediately slapped them away.

He laughed at the notion. “Oooh, feisty. I love that in a woman.”

“Do you?” I asked with a smile.

“They’re always the best ones to break,” he winked.

I gave him an unamused look. “On your knees.”

A look of genuine shock passed on his face. “Excuse me.”

“Get on your knees,” I enunciated each syllable in the sentence and kept that bored look on my face.

“I think you got it mistaken, sweetheart,” he quipped, bringing his face closer to mine. That time our noses actually touched. “I am the one in charge here.”

A dangerous smirk slowly inched up to my lips and situated itself there. “Tell me, Mr. King of Curses, did you summon yourself or was I the one to do it?”

“You were, but—”

“And according to my research,” I interjected, running a finger along his solid abs. “The summoner is in full control of the demon if there is no bargain made between the two. Meaning, I can keep you here as long as I want and do whatever the fuck I want until I present you with some kind of deal. In other words.” I allowed my hands to slide lower against his abdomen until they brushed against the protruding tent in his leather pants. “I have you by the balls and I am the one in charge.”

There was an expression in his eye that I couldn’t exactly place. It wasn’t anger or frustration. It wavered the line of infatuation and intrigue. Just like me, the nine-hundred-year-old emperor was curious. I don’t think people ever challenged him before, let alone women. It was easy to be afraid of the eight-foot-tall beast. He had four arms and two sets of eyes. All his teeth came down to a point and looked incredibly sharp. He had thick, lined tattoos on every part of his body, including his face. His eyes were an electric red and seemed to bore into one’s soul the longer they looked at you. There were muscles littered all over that massive body and he could move faster than sound itself. Sukuna Ryomen was an obvious apex predator to me and I was nothing but a lamb waiting to be slaughtered. 

He could have simply rejected my request and placed me on my knees instead. He had all the power to do it. 

Yet, he didn’t.

The King of Curses sunk to his knees slowly, keeping eye contact as he did so. He placed his hands on his lap and sat back on his heels. The demon looked up at me with wonder and a little anticipation. He had no idea what I was going to do next.

I let my open dress shirt slip from my arms and fall into a puddle at my feet. The only thing covering my top half was a simple cotton bra. It was pink and thin. When I looked down, I could see my perfectly pebbled nipples through the fabric. 

Sukuna could not stop staring at them either. 

Slowly, I lifted my left heel from the ground and took my leather pump into my grasp. I slipped the shoe off and tossed it aside. It hit the marble floor with a delayed “thud”. I repeated the action with the other one and looked down at the red-eyed demon. His eyes were still on my chest. I pressed my back against the metal door once more and lifted my stocking-covered foot to his lap. I rubbed my toes along the thick thighs and inched closer to the leather tent situated between them. Gently, I ran my foot against the erect member. My toes wiggled up the thick shaft, attempting to feel it through the thick fabric. I pressed the ball of my foot atop the member and felt Sukuna shiver beneath me. 

“Ooh,” I taunted with a smirk. “So you like that?”

“Yes,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Does it feel good, baby ‘kuna?” I asked, rubbing the ball of my foot against the shaft. 

“. . . Yes.”

“Bet you wish I would just unbutton your pants and use my hands, huh?”

The demon groaned and briefly closed his eyes. Sukuna opened his mouth to say something but immediately stopped. He tilted his head to the ceiling and murmured a few words in a language I didn’t recognize. While he was distracted, I removed my foot from his crotch; earning a growl from him. I dropped my hands to my thighs and slowly lifted up my skirt until it was above my rear. I pressed my thumbs in the waistband of both my pantyhose and my underwear and shoved them down. They slid down my smooth legs with ease and ended up at my ankles a moment later. Sukuna’s eyes were back on me. The curly mound was in his eye line and I could see his nostril flare a few times.

It was taking everything in him not to dive right in.

“Come here, pet,” I cooed, widening my legs for him.

The massive demon closed the distance between our two bodies in a heartbeat. Yet, his hands remained on his lap and his gaze was on my face. He was waiting for instruction. I almost giggled at the notion. A famed warlord and emperor was waiting for a mere human to tell him what to do. The situation was ironic in every sense of the word. But, it made my heart swell with pride. I had the deadly man, both alive and dead, on his knees before me. Sukuna was practically begging with his eyes to kiss my cunt. He was doing all he could to be a good little poppet. 

“Have a reward for being such an ob—”

My leg was hoisted on his shoulder and the other was hooked on his elevated arm. Both of my feet were off the ground. My thighs were wide apart and my cunt was exposed to the demon’s hot breath. The lower lips were slick and sensitive— which made the sensation even more pleasurable. His heavy, wet tongue slid against the tingling vulva and made my whole body shiver. A silent curse fell from my lips and I took a tight hold of his pink hair. The demon repeated the action several times, before shoving his face between my thighs. His hot mouth latched onto the weeping cunt and began to suck. The air in my lungs had grown thick and it was suddenly hard to take a full breath. In addition to the suction, his plush tongue was lapping against my clit. 

“Oooh. . . fuck. . . pet,” I hissed, rolling my hips against his face. “You are so good with that filthy mouth of yours. Keep going like this and I’m gonna cream all over that pretty face.”

Sukuna growled at the statement and pressed his claws into my thighs. The action was light but still heavy. He didn’t want to draw blood, but he still wanted to hold me very tightly. 

I lifted one of the massive palms placed on my stomach and lifted it to my face. I took in the thick fingers and the veins along the back of it. There were callouses on the fingers and a few on the inside. His claws were sharp enough to slit a throat, which explains his gentleness with them. I brought the bruised knuckles and gave them a tender kiss. I repeated the action on each finger until I was met with the claws once again. The longer I looked at his fingers, the more I wanted them in my mouth. I lowered my tongue from between my lips and ran the tip of it against the underside of the claws. The demon groaned in response and gripped my thighs tighter. I took long strides against the calloused digits and made sure to keep constant eye contact. 

“Can you lose the claws or not?” I asked, breathless. 

I could feel my peak gently rising over the horizon. There was a warm sensation slowly growing in my belly and my legs started to buckle. My hips were vibrating against his suckling maw and Sukuna had no intention of stopping any time soon.

Without warning, the claws on all four of his hands started to shrink back into his nail bed. Once they were close enough to the fingertip, the point widened and formed a standard fingernail. It was still black, of course. I smiled wickedly at the fingers and started to lick them all over again. Slowly, I started adding suction to the licks. I moved my lips to each digit, starting at the pinky, until I was left with the middle and an index finger. I bit my bottom lips lightly in anticipation. I was internally scolding myself for being excited over a silly thing. 

It was just a hand. It was nothing more. Sure, his palm was almost the size of my face and his fingers were twice the length of mine. It was a standard working man’s hand. The rational part of my brain couldn’t see why a girl would be so infatuated with something so mundane and ordinary. However, the irrational part of my brain couldn’t help but picture them within me. The fingers were so long and inviting— and not to mention pretty thick. Two of them were the width of a standard cock and would fill me decently. But a third would stretch me deliciously. It would do a wonderful job preparing for the monster between his legs. 

“Add a finger into my center,” I instructed, lowering his palm from my mouth. “And hook it upward.”

The obedient demon did exactly what he was told and pressed a finger to my center. The digit easily slipped into my awaiting hole. A low moan fell from my lips as he pressed against my G-spot. My hips rolled against his hand, greedy for more friction. 

“Add another,” I said quickly. 

The need to be stretched was becoming more prevalent and more prevalent. The second finger slipped into my canal and I shuddered. The subtle burn of the intrusion was glorious. The calloused fingertips pressing against the spongy area sent me deeper into bliss. His plump lips were still suckling my throbbing bud. The air in my lungs had gradually started to grow thicker and my body started to tingle. My mouth casually fell open as my eyes closed. My body was buzzing, vibrating from everything that I was experiencing. I had never felt this good with any partner I had. Many would complain about me even asking for oral. While others thought a clit lick was enough to make me cum. Yet, here was a Demon. The King of Curses on his knees feasting on my cunt like it was the last meal he’s ever had. A bloodthirsty heathen, at least according to history, was willing to treat me like a goddess and the mortal men thought me an object. 

Of course, it did help that he was attractive— in the worst way possible. 

My back arched against the metal door and my hips started to splutter against his face. All the air came rushing into my throat at once. My hand, shakily, gripped one of Sukuna’s spare ones. I interlocked our fingers and squeezed them tightly. I felt the demon tremble from beneath me. My messy cunt humped his pretty face as I rode out the climax. Silent curses fell from my lips like a goddamn sailor and my whimpers were barely audible. Stars exploded behind my eyes and electricity coursed through my veins. 

When the wave had come to a staggering halt, I pushed Sukuna’s head away from my oozing pussy. His fingers slipped from my sensitive walls shortly after. The demon set my shaky legs down and sat me on his lap while he rested on his heels. He stared at me with all four of his eyes. A tired smile fell on my lips as I gazed down at him, happily. 

“Kiss me.”

His lips were on mine before I could finish the last syllable. 

The kiss was slow and sensual. It made my heart grow warm and needy. It felt like something you’d give to a forgotten lover. Like a last effort to remind them of what they had lost. It engulfed me in feelings I hadn’t felt in a long time. Tricked my brain into thinking he actually had feelings for a mere mortal. 

I pulled away from the embrace to catch my breath. His kisses continued on. They inched down my jaw and along my neck. My shaky hand reached up to his pink locks and tugged lightly. My body rolled against his; desire was nipping at my heels once more. A pair of hands took hold of my waist and kneaded the soft flesh around it. I sighed, amused at the sensation. The skilled fingers moved lower and lower until they were palming my rear. He squeezed and pinched the soft flesh, growling while he completed the action. The hands moved lower and captured my thighs. He hoisted my body in the air once again. We were still attached at the lips. My hands were in his hair and my hips were rolling against his lap. 

"I need you," the demon growled against my neck. "I need to be inside of you. Right now or I'm going to paint the floor with my seed."

He wasn't the type to beg, I knew that for sure. The little statement was meant to suggest that he was nearing his limit. More than ever, he was desperate to be situated between my walls. 

A chuckle fell from my lips. "I barely touched you and you're already going to cum? You better not be a minute man, 'Kuna."

He scoffed and lifted his head from my neck. The intensity of his gaze made my insides rumble with delight and my head spin. “Don’t be mistaken, Historian. This little game of yours is truly something, but don’t let it go to your head. I could fuck you to the inch of your life and still wouldn’t reach my peak. You mortals are easy to break, all it takes is a few orgasms and some dirty words.”

I hummed, unamused by the comment. “Is that what you want? To break every woman you come in contact with?”

“Only the pretty ones,” he quipped, pinching my backside.

I didn’t even flinch. 

“Well, let’s see how long you can keep up with me, Your Majesty,” I said with a sigh. “Give me your worst.”

“You shouldn’t have said that, little human,” he snickered. “You’re gonna regret it.”

With the flick of his wrist, the remnants of my clothes were in ribbons on the marble floor. Never once did my feet touch the ground in the process either. He cradled me with one pair of arms while using the other to do his dirty work. I was completely bare before Sukuna, and our bare chests were pressed together. His upper arms were caressing and massaging the soft flesh along my back, while his lower arms hooked around my legs and gripped the underside of my thighs. The King of Curses brought his lips to mine once again, before lowering my body onto his awaiting member. I didn’t even notice that he had taken off his pants and exposed the massive rod into the cool air of the room. Due to our position, it was hard to catch a glimpse of what it looked like, but I did feel it. 

A gasp fell from my lips as my eyes fell closed. The stretch was delectable and stung marvelously. My oozing walls contracted against the throbbing member, almost begging him for inch after inch. The girth was unimaginable and it almost brought tears to my eyes. I dug my nails into the Curse’s forearms and tossed my head back. Silent moans kissed my lips as my walls continued to ooze all around him. Sukuna’s breath grew coarse and his grip on my thighs was tight. I could feel his eyes staring at me; taking in my lewd demeanor and the feeling of my tight pussy.

Before we both knew it, his entire length was situated in me and it seemed to shock him greatly.

“How fascinating,” he marveled, moving his upper hands to hips. “Never has a human taken all of me, without some resistance. This union is going to be better than I originally anticipated.”

“I’m ready when you are, ‘Kuna,” I said, gripping his forearms tightly. 

The eight-foot-tall curse started off slowly raising my body off his shaft and lowering back down gently. It was a cautionary measure to just how much I could take and how fast. Little by little he increased his speed and pressure. More and more my body bounced with such rigor and persistence. I didn’t start to truly make noise until the monster was basically dropping me on his awaiting cock as if I weighed nothing at all. Shouts mixed with moans spilled from my lips as I looked up at his face. Sukuna wore a cocky smirk with pride. It felt as though he was proud of himself for obtaining such a reaction out of me. I dug my nails into his forearms and watched as his smirk faltered from the sensation. 

Pain must’ve been the easiest way to his heart.

The heavy member was stretching out my poor womanhood in every direction. However, I could feel the plush head hitting a spot deep within my cunt, just beneath my cervix. The pleasurable sensation was making every nerve in my body sing. The longer his thrusts invaded my welcoming body, the closer I was being brought to orgasm. It wasn’t long before my thighs started to tremble from the insane movements of the monster. A thin sheet of sweat started to form on my body. I could feel my walls flutter rapidly against the massive cock and tension build in my lower abdomen. 

“Gonna cum already?” He snickered. “I thought you said I was supposed to keep up with you?”

I lazy smile fell on my lips. “Your ignorance is showing, baby ‘Kuna.”

“Please do share, Miss Historian.”

 Before I could reply to the statement, the King of Curse started to drop me even harder on his cock. The additional pressure on my a-spot had forced an electric shock through my body. My upper half jolted forward and my grip on his forearms tightened even more. I could see my knuckles begin to turn white from the hold I had on him. All the nerves in my body began to buzz and my abdomen started to ache. The climax was close enough for me to taste, but not close enough to devour. The need to cum had taken over every other thought in my mind. The worries about how dangerous the monster fucking me had slipped away. I no longer cared that he had been the most dangerous man in history, nor did I care about how completely insane the evening had been with him. I had never imagined being entangled with such a notorious curse and having him fucking me for the last hour with little kickback. I couldn’t believe how much I was enjoying having this monster at my beck and call. Nor could I believe that he sank to his knees and submitted to me. 

It wasn’t something I had been expecting, but I sure as hell wanted more of it. 

The orgasm struck my body like an arrow and threw me forward. Sukuna quickly repositioned his hands— wrapping two arms around my upper back and two around my waist. My thighs hooked around his hips and my arms were placed around his neck. My entire body was convulsed from the orgasm. I pressed my face fell against his smooth chest as I shivered against him. Curses and whimpers oozed from my lips as my cunt painted his dick with a thick creamy substance. He never stopped his thrusts. Sukuna kept the same, hard and quick pace as I became undone before him. The feeling was completely otherworldly and indescribable. I never wanted him to stop. I never wanted to be apart from him. I wanted our bodies to be joined together forever.

When the final wave of the orgasm left, an insatiable feeling had taken its place. An unrecognizable greed ate at my womb, begging the monster to fill it to the brim with his seed. The need wasn’t something I was ashamed of, but I wouldn’t dare share it with Sukuna. The King of Curses would let the statement go straight to his head.

I lifted my head from his chest and looked into his half-hooded eyes. He was studying me closely. Taking in my every reaction to see what my body craved the most. It made my heart flutter.

While his hips worked their magic, I leaned back into his arms and placed my hands on his shoulders. Slowly, I moved my left hand along his collarbone and placed it at the base of his neck. His eyes were focused on my face, a look of encouragement on his face. He wanted to be choked. His crimson eyes were practically begging me for it. 

But, I needed to hear him say it.

I moved my hand back to his shoulder but never broke eye contact. A look of disappointment flashed upon his face before he quickly washed it away 

“If you want something, pet,” I offered with a smirk. “You gotta use your big boy words.”

“You’re such a fucking tease,” he groaned, rolling his eyes.

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” I replied, the smirk widening to a smile. “Now, come on, baby ‘Kuna, tell your Mistress what you want her to do to you.”

A sigh fell from his lips and he briefly closed his eyes. “Will you. . . Can you. . . choke you me. . . please?”

I could feel my heart flutter once more from the broken sentence. I was almost tempted to ask him to repeat it, but I knew he wouldn’t no matter how much I begged. The shameful look he gave me when he opened his eyes made my insides stir. It added to the overall pleasure of the slow, deep thrusts he had been giving me. My chest was swelling with an emotion I didn’t fully recognize and I was almost scared to acknowledge it. There were remnants of love and longing in his gaze. I had seen glimpses of the emotions earlier, but I had tried to convince myself that I was going insane. Yet, the more I looked at him, the clearer his emotions seemed to me.

Slowly, I placed my hand on his neck and gave it a subtle squeeze. 

His eyes fluttered closed and a low groan erupted from his abdomen. “Harder. . .” The request was just above a whisper, but it echoed through my mind loudly. 

Like the good Mistress I was, I complied.

Realizing that Sukuna was far from human— and didn’t require air to survive— placed an evil idea in my mind. I mustered up all the strength in my right hand and squeezed his thick neck with everything in me. I watched my knuckles flicker from their usual color to a chalk-white as I did so. The massive monster shivered underneath me and his eyes fluttered shut. Deep, animalistic growls pierced the air around us. They were followed by the swift changing of his thrusts against my body. Instead of fucking me tenderly with a hint of aggression, Sukuna had switched to screwing me like he hated me. His hips slammed against my center with such rigor, I almost couldn’t think straight. My whole body bounced and jumped against his. My breath grew thick in my throat and my nerves seemed to sing. My thighs grew slicker and slicker by the second until I was sure my arousal was oozing all over his lap. 

“Fuck!” Sukuna growled, beneath me. “Why do you feel so good around me, mortal?”

I didn’t even have the air to respond to him. My head was doing a dangerous dance and jumbling all the thoughts within it. Even in my sedated state, I maintained the pressure I had on his neck. I could feel his thick member jolt and twitch within me. The reaction seemed to surprise him as well. His body took off in a smooth vibration as growls erupted from his throat. The King of Curses was nearing his end, only after about 30 minutes of constant penetration. To a human, that length of stamina would’ve been impressive. He would have been categorized as a good amongst men. But for a monster? It was questionable. Sukuna was known to fight for days without breaking a sweat. He could obliterate armies and leave relatively unharmed. There had been stories of his whore-ish escapades as well. Tales on how he had to reserve almost ten women in a brothel to get his rocks off. The stories, also, continued to say how each woman had to be given a “rest day” after spending a night with him and would happily do it all over again.

His hips vibrated against my pelvis and I felt his grip tighten on my thighs. A string of curses dripped from his tongue and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“I’m gonna paint those pretty walls with my seed,” he growled, thrusting even faster into my cunt. “Mark my fucking territory so no other man can enter.”

The sensation in my belly was downright undeniable. The chilly approach to the climax had first taken over my toes. Numbness inched up the little nubs and to my calves. However, there was a change in temperature as it approached my thighs. I was no longer cold in that area, but insanely hot. There was heat that radiated from Sukuna and glittered over to me. My thighs felt as though they were burning and my stomach was on fire. Yet, it wasn’t painful. It was pleasurable. It gave me an added adrenaline boost. Instead of freezing like a fawn when the climax approached, I attacked like a bear. My nails dug into Sukuna’s neck and shoulder. I tossed my head back fiercely and felt the scrunchie holding my twists burst. Long strands cascaded over my naked, sweaty body. 

“Harder,” I growled, my head tilted to the ceiling. “Come on, pet. Fuck me like you mean it.”

My back hit the table moments later. My thighs were still spread open and wide for the monster. He pressed his body against mine completely— the closest we have been since this whole ordeal— and started to rut into me. Filling me over and over again with his over-sensitive cock. The pants coming from his lips sounded criminal and downright wrong. It was strange to hear a monster almost out of breath, especially when to sex. The activity was so natural in comparison to what atrocities Sukuna was usually up to. It felt like the King was giving me all he had in that last round. Mustering up his last bit of stamina to satisfy his mistress. 

That forbidden feeling was stirring in me once again. The one that felt dangerously similar to love. Even with my nearly fucked-out brain, I knew it was impossible to feel that way about someone I had just met a little while ago. It was even more irresponsible to feel that way about a literal King of Curses. A former menace to society in life and current pain in the ass in death. Just as much as Sukuna pleasured me, he annoyed the absolute shit out of me as well. His arrogant attitude and boastful demeanor almost made me hate him. Almost. It was his wavering obedience and the look I got when I choked him that changed my mind. I couldn’t hate him. At least not right now.

The orgasm was mind-numbing and  appeared out of nowhere. It was the strongest of the three and seemed to have sent me into the atmosphere. My back arched against the table and my nails dug into his ribs. My eyes rolled back and my mouth fell open. Above me, I could feel Sukuna’s body freeze for a few seconds. His hips jolted and trembled fiercely as his cock spasmed within me. Hot cum spilled from his slit and oozed into my awaiting pussy. Broken breaths fell from his lips as he gathered my body into his arms once again. Sukuna wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly. A searing kiss was placed on my lips as he lazily thrust into my slick cunt. It felt as though he wanted to empty every last drop into me before pulling away.

Yet, even when he finished emptying his load into me, the King of Curses still held me in his arms. The kiss had long been broken, but his forehead was pressed against mine afterward. His eyes were closed and his breathing was soft. There was a peaceful look on his face. He didn’t seem to be the massive warlord, the King of Curses, or the cocky bastard that blew my back out— he was simply Sukuna and that was enough for me. My hands found refuge in his hair. I stroked the pink locks tenderly and hummed sweetly. That forbidden feeling hadn’t left just yet. Everything about that moment oozed intimacy and, dare I say it, love. As much as I wanted more of it— as much as I fucking craved it— I knew it was not meant to be. I knew I had to be satisfied with just this. My hands in his hair and his body against my own.

“You stole something from me,” Sukuna spoke, finally lifting his forehead from mine. He opened his crimson eyes and searched my face. I didn’t know what he was looking for. 

I lowered my hand from his hair. “What did I steal?”

“My power,” he replied, wrapping his arms around me and pulling away. “You stole my power. Well, some of it at least.”

I sat up at the edge of the table and combed a twist behind my ear. “What are you talking about? How is that even possible?”

“It isn’t possible!” He snapped back with his back to me. 

His heavy feet paced around the small archive room and there was a quizzical expression on his face. The monster had been completely deep in thought. He was working out every possible answer, theory, or hypothesis in his head as to what the hell was going on. Wondering how a mere mortal could conjure him with any preparation. Thinking about how she was able to make him subtle to her with little effort. Questioning how it was even possible that she could steal  some of his power if she wasn’t a curse user. I knew what he was thinking because I too was thinking the exact same thing. The situation was bizarre for both parties and left us both stumped. 

Until my eyes dropped to the discarded grimoire on the floor and something suddenly clicked.

“I didn’t steal your power,” I said, watching Sukuna stop in his tracks at the sound of my voice. “I contained it.”

Slowly, his head turned to me as the thought penetrated his mind as well. A slow, cocky smile was pulled onto his lips. 

“You are my vessel,” he replied. “My anchor in the mortal world.”

“In other words, I am—”

“Destined to be mine. Forever.”

-------------------------

a/n: what's good y'all? I know I am hella late to kinktober, but here's my submission. I wanted to do something a little different for you y'all. do you we like the longer stories? how do we feel about the prompts? be honest tell me how you feel about it. i love reading your comments.

also, I will post a new story before the end of October, so watch out for that.

thinking about an official taglist. how do we feel about that?

see you soon.

-------------------------

[dont-starve-scrapbook]

Let's talk about Wilson's perceived competence. Can we talk about Wilson's perceived competence, please? I've been dying to talk about Wilson's perceived competence with you all day, okay?

(Prefacing with the fact that I am aware that people just like to make jokes and be silly sometimes, nothing wrong with that, plus that that doesn't mean they believe that's his entire canon personality but I just wanted to make a post)

There seems to be this increasing general opinion/characterization that Wilson is like. an incompetent, know-nothing-know-it-all?

Yes, he does have a bit of an ego. ("Just when I thought I couldn't get any better", for the Construction Amulet.) He can be insecure about not knowing something, which isn't particularly odd, it ties into the ego thing. (The quotes for Wagstaff's tools show this though personally I feel like Klei leaned a little into some flanderization there perhaps?)

But incompetent know-nothing?? :(

(once again no-one's said that word for word, it's just the vibe)

This is the same guy who, canonically, forged his way through the entirety of adventure mode and reached the Nightmare Throne before anyone else. And then after Charlie threw him back into the Constant he (probably very likely) made those blueprints for the Jury-Rigged Portal.

He's also invented things like the Telltale Heart, three of the boating implements, (perhaps the Think Tank itself?) and the Gardeneer Hat, which can be upgraded at the Ancient Pseudoscience Station!!

To my knowledge there's only 2 other items you need pre-existing crafts to make, but this is the only one that's personally invented by one of the survivors! I think that's pretty notable!

I like how Wickerbottom puts it here, eccentric but sound.

Another thing is something from the old ARG stuff that Klei set up. One of them was a map with a bunch of formulas and equations, which he wrote! I don't think he was pretending to know what he was writing here.

Anyways bleh, it seems like Klei is getting in on it too with certain quotes and especially the overabundance of puns that just. aren't good. (Anything involving marotters, for example...) I really hope that they stop leaning into that sort of thing for his characterization in the future. He's capable and actually pretty smart even if he's not the best scientist in the world. (I do still think he's a pretty good scientist. He's just wonderfully out of the box) (Most of the screenshots and images are sourced from the non-fandom.wikia don't starve wiki)

[stellar-constellations]

Heart on the Market (ONGOING SERIES) Chapter 2

        

WARNING: This series will include; NSFW, dead dove, reader is a serial killer, black market possible inaccurate historical slang and fashion, gore, alcohol, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, implications of misandry (male misogyny), perversive thoughts, nonconsensual drugging, gaslighting, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (Ashley doesn't exist). Modern AU.

Incest is not Wincest.

Andrew Graves x Old school! Serial killer! Fem! Reader

Wordcount: 6,600+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, current chapter, chapter 3, chapter 4 (in the works)

You grabbed rags from your closet and wet them, using soap and water as you scrubbed the apartment’s carpeted floors stained with blood.

        You occasionally kept an eye on Andrew’s apartment door, finding that he hasn’t stepped out of his apartment yet.

        He must’ve decided on not working tonight. You thought. 

        Good. It’ll make it easier to supervise him. He won’t blabber to an unsuspecting customer or call the police on the gas station’s phone and have a SWAT team break into your home.

        You couldn’t kill Andrew. The Manson Murderer has never directly targeted someone, so a murder inside of a random apartment complex would be extremely suspicious considering all of the murders were unsuspecting night folk outside.

        Having a crime scene inside of your home would be too suspicious, and it would prevent you from sneaking back into the apartments at 3 AM if there’s police stationed outside. If the murders noticeably decrease, the police will know that they’re hot on the murderer’s trail inside of the apartment complex, putting you at serious risk.

        So your best chance was seduction, but even you're not sure how long you can keep that up. It was absolutely nauseating kissing a guy you've barely known. Revolting having to shove your tongue down his throat knowing you're not his wife or even courting him. 

        You shivered and shook your head, getting goosebumps just as the thought of premarital intimacy, focusing your attention to dumping the rag in your bucket of water, wringing it out and scrubbing more of the blood off the carpet.

        Of course the bag rips… You thought, groaning. This new age cutting corners in production to save a few bucks.        

        You got up from the floor, looking at your handiwork. 

        It’s not the worst, but it’ll save you for now. Besides, it’s not like you’ll just have some random dude with a UV light wandering the halls spraying luminal on the ground to cause a chemiluminescence reaction once it detects hemoglobin found in a person’s DNA… Yeah, that would never happen. 

        Even still, hydrogen peroxide wouldn’t work on the carpet; not only would it stain the carpet and cause suspicion, but it’s really not guaranteed to 100% remove the DNA, only damage it a little. It’s not like that matters anyways, crime scene investigators don’t need blood to understand where exactly a crime scene happened or how it played out; it’s just a piece of evidence after all.

        Besides, with this new technology they’re developing, they’ll eventually be able to detect old DNA particles using eDNA machines that will extract the DNA from the air itself. Pretty spooky to know how far technology will come.

        Damn scientists and their new machines… You grimaced, annoyed as you walked back into your apartment with your bucket.

        But for now, that technology doesn’t exist, and your apartment has no cameras, so you'll simply just keep on killing. 

        You entered your apartment and rummaged through your bathroom cabinets, finding old containers of floss you got from the dentist. You stole the floss from the containers, tying them together to make a large string and grabbed a bell from your arts and crafts box inside your room. 

        You tied the bell on one end of the floss string, adding multiple knots to make sure it was secured, then walked out of your apartment, tying the other end of the floss string onto Andrew’s door knob. You walked back into your room and closed the door, placing the bell onto the floor. 

        If Andrew opens his door, the bell will move with the door and ring, signaling to you Andrew has left his apartment. That way, he can’t escape. 

        So far, you’ll just have to trust he hasn’t called the police. 

        You walked into your kitchen, grabbing ingredients out of your fridge. 

        It’ll be a quick meal, you don't want to leave Andrew alone for too long. You have plans after all.

        You grabbed butter and chicken breasts from your fridge. You placed the butter in a large saucepan and heated it, cutting up the chicken breasts into bite-sized pieces with a knife and cutting board. You cooked the chicken in the butter, adding a generous helping of Cajun seasoning.

        You grabbed a pot and filled it with water, adding a tablespoon of salt and letting it boil, before dumping some Alfredo noodles into the boiling water.

        You put the cooked chicken on a plate and set it to the side, grabbing heavy cream and an aged Parmesan from your fridge. You poured the bottle of heavy cream into the saucepan to start cooking, then you grated the cheese. You threw the cheese into the sauce a handful at time, waiting for it to melt before doing another handful.

        Once the sauce was ready, you placed the chicken back into the pan, adding a bit more Cajun seasoning. You grabbed the cooked noodles and strained them, adding them into the sauce. You grabbed two bowls and scooped some of the Chicken Alfredo into the bowls, and finished it with grated Parmesan on both.

        You grabbed a fork and put it on the right side of the bowl. Then you grabbed Rohypnol (a tasteless, odorless sleeping drug commonly used for date-rapes) from your medicine cabinet, grabbing a plastic bag and chopping it up into fine powder. 

        You grabbed a handful and dashed it on the bowl without a fork, letting the medicine blend in as cheese, then washed your hands good to get rid of any residue. You grabbed a fork and placed it on the left side of the bowl, grabbing your bowl in your right hand, and Andrew’s drugged bowl in your left hand.

        You carefully opened your front door, closing it behind you. You set the bowls down on the ground for a moment, grabbing a bobby pin from your hair.

        Your father taught you how to open just about any lock using a bobby pin, so you're rather good with it. It’s a nice skill to have to keep the family tradition alive. 

        You peeked into the room carefully, seeing all the lights were out, although there was a dim white light illuminating the living room.

        Silly boy. He thought he could turn off the lights and act like he wasn’t home! You smiled, stifling a giggle.

        You crept into the apartment and closed the door behind you, locking it.

        Not even a bullock on his door, or even a sliding lock at that. Shows how much he cares about security… You thought, mentally rolling your eyes as you placed the bowls of food on the nearby counter.

        The only useful technology that exists, and he doesn't even use it!

        You walked into the living room, appearing behind him and reaching for the lamp on his side table, flicking it on.

        “Ah!” Andrew yelped, startled.

        He whirled his head around to look at you, his eyes widened as he gulped, caught in the act. 

        There was a computer on his living room table, open with an article of the Manson Murderer. There was a notepad next to him, black ink messily scribbled writing notes to try and string the Manson Murderer to you. 

        Is he leaving notes for when he’s dead?

        “Oh! Now, now!” You smiled, snatching the notebook from him. “Good boys don’t snitch. I have a few friends that’ll stitch that big ol’ trap of yours if you don’t keep it shut.”

        “H-hey!” Andrew gasped, a blush spreading across his face, ignoring the pet name as he tried to reach for his notebook.

        “Hands to yourself, darling.” You hummed, taking a few steps away, grabbing a lighter from your purse and lighting the paper on fire.

        You placed the paper on the ground, ignoring Andrew's surprised face and watching as he stood up and ran into the kitchen for a cup of water.

        You smiled, shaking your head and giggling as he left. The notebook was small and already reduced into a pile of black burning ashes, a flame licking the top. You pressed your heel onto the small flame, denying the fire of oxygen as you smushed your foot left and right.

        “See? Small fires like these can easily just be stomped out, as long as you’re not wearing anything flammable that is.” You smiled, as if teaching a dog. “By the time you would’ve grabbed water, the unsupervised fire could’ve grown and the whole room would be set aflame!”

        “W-what… What are you doing here again?” Andrew questioned. “Have you come back to finish the job?”

        “Finish? Oh, I don’t look to finish you! Not in the way you’re thinking, at least.” You purred playfully, stepping over the pile of ashes and walking closer to Andrew.

        Andrew leaned back as you got into his space, your body leaning towards his. You smirked as he looked down at you, nervous before you glided past him.

        You picked up his laptop from his coffee table, going to his search history and deleting all the information he was trying to look up of you and the Manson Murderer.

        Your eyes paused at a few links an hour ago moments after your first visit, before you looked up at him and smirked.

        “Huh… ‘(Hair color) (eye color) porn actresses with soft lips?’ Rings a bell…” You teased, before placing the laptop back down onto the coffee table.

        “T-that’s not what you’re thinking of! That’s just coincidence!” Andrew blurted out, nervous as he snatched the laptop up, cradling it to his chest defensively.

        “I just meant that one famous actress.” You hummed. “Ya know, in every new movie now.”

        “Right…” Andrew muttered.

        “Of course, only in the movies cause they’re hot though.” You hummed. “Although, movies are so evil, don’t you think? I prefer seeing plays and reading books; there’s just no passion in money.” 

        “Uh, yeah…” Andrew nodded. 

        The last play he went to was his own kindergarten musical; his role was a tree.

        “It’s only looks that put you at the top. Like Rachel Welch.” You hummed. “Only in movies for sex appeal, but that’s every woman in Hollywood now.” You tutted, crossing your arms.

        Andrew looked away from you, feeling a bit called out.

        Sure, it’s nice to engage in some eye candy when it’s on the screen, but it’s pretty annoying if you’re not watching a romance or a slapstick/chickflick. 

        Modern examples of sex appeal would be Megan Fox or Jennifer Lopez; they’re pretty but man do they not bring anything else to the table.

        But hey, Hollywood is Hollywood. Everyone’s holly jolly with some money in their pockets. 

        “It must suck though, practically signing away their rights. Surrounded by paparazzi and the societal standards of what a good actor and celebrity is.” Andrew spoke thoughtfully.

        “Well, I suppose everything has consequences. It’s a matter of outweighing the pros and cons. Most enter that career wanting that attention and fame until they realize what it actually means; crazed fans with parasocial relationships and all...” You hummed. “But I didn’t come here to talk with you about that.”

        You smiled, walking back to the counter. You grabbed the bowls you left, holding your bowl with the fork on the right side. You held it and gave Andrew his drugged bowl.

        “Here. Dinner.” You spoke, not much of an offer as you shoved the bowl into his chest for him to take.

        “And how do I know this isn’t—“ 

        “Poisoned?” You questioned, cutting Andrew off. “Oh golly no! Are you really that afraid of me?”

        “Yes.” Andrew grumbled, looking at you unamused. “Considering you drug a dead man through the hallways and into my home.” 

        “Hm? Oh, I don’t recall.” You hummed, grabbing your fork and a piece of pasta.

        “Like Hell you don’t—“ You shoved your food into Andrew’s mouth, almost choking him as he shut up and chewed.

        “That’s not a nice word, you know. Can’t you show manners? Swallow down that attitude of yours.” You spoke, removing the fork from his mouth.

        He was going to argue, but the food wasn’t bad, so he shut up and kept chewing until he swallowed.

        “It’s… not bad…” Andrew muttered.

        “It better not! It’s rude to say so after I spent the time cooking it for you!” You huffed.

        “For me?” Andrew questioned, surprised as he looked at you with suspicion.

        “Consider it a truce.” You smiled, putting the same fork that was in Andrew’s mouth into your mouth.

        Andrew stared at you as you ate, watching before he sighed, picking up his fork and eating. 

        “So, you have a girlfriend?” You questioned. 

        “Excuse me?” Andrew questioned, looking up at you.

        “I assume not considering you watch a lot of X-rated videos.” You hummed.

        “Could you not while I’m eating?” Andrew groaned, embarrassed as his face turned pink.

        “So?” You questioned.

        “Why’s it matter to you?” Andrew grumbled. 

        “To see if you’re available.” You smiled.

        Andrew gulped, swallowing his meal nervously as he looked at you with hesitancy.

        “If it helps, I’m celibate.” You added. “Not for religion, but morals.” 

        “J-Jesus! I didn’t need to know that!” Andrew exclaimed, his blush worsening at your words, just thinking about it.

        A virgin? Possibly every man’s wet dream if he’s got a corruption kink.

        Something Andrew does indeed have. 

        “Now? Do you?” you questioned, scooting closer to him, their legs now touching.

    “Yeah, okay? I’m single…” Andrew grumbled, avoiding your eyes.

        It’s not like he hasn’t been pursued before, but he just never saw the interest in dating; at least not until after college. Middle and high school relationships end fast over stupid reasons, besides, it’s just fake dating. How can you date and not go out together outside of school?

        Besides, it’s all just hormones and horniness… a feeling Andrew often struggles with by himself.

        Andrew tried to scoot away, but you quickly followed and pressed yourself back against his side, repeating the process until he was flushed against the armrest and couldn’t move any further.

        “Come on, eat more! I made it for you after all. Don't be mean!” you spoke.

        “I can’t eat if you don’t give me space to raise my arm.” Andrew huffed, annoyed at you rushing him before he took another bite.

        “So, what do you feel about moving in with me?” you questioned.

        “No.” Andrew responded quickly.

        “Why not?” you frowned.

        “I’m not getting arrested for being an accessory to murder or a murder accomplice.” Andrew spoke.

        “But it’s not technically a murder accomplice if you don’t help me kill.” You pointed out.

        “However, I know that you’re a murderer and I didn’t tell the police therefore they’ll arrest me.” Andrew huffed.

        “I can stop whenever I want.” You hummed. “I can stop if you move in.”

        “Yeah, right.” Andrew scoffed, annoyed as he shoveled more food into his mouth.

        “Come on, I can be good!” you pleaded, placing your hand on his arm.

        “Stop that!” Andrew huffed.

        You wanted to try and convince him more with a kiss, but you were a bit worried if the Rohypnol would affect you if it’s in his mouth, so you didn’t risk it.

        “Can’t you just leave me alone?” Andrew questioned, irritated.

        “Let’s watch a movie instead!” you spoke, trying to distract him.

        “No!” Andrew hissed, watching as you grabbed his TV remote and turned the TV on. “Leave my apartment!”

        “No!” you huffed, using your arms to wrap around his arm, and wrapped your legs around his torso, clinging onto his side like a koala.

        “What’s with you? You’re like a damn koala!” Andrew hissed, trying to pry you off.

        “Just let me stay with you!” you whined, starting to get whiny and desperate to stay.

        All you have to do is buy enough time for that Rohypnol to kick in.

        Andrew heard your whines, his face feeling flushed as a pit of heat formed in his stomach. 

        “Jesus. Are you touch-starved? Lonely or something?” Andrew commented, annoyed.

        “If I say yes will you let me stay?” you questioned, looking up at him, resting your head on his shoulder.

        Andrew looked down your pleading face, the expression too much as he felt himself getting worked up. 

        “Only a movie…” he grumbled, adverting his gaze to the TV so he wouldn’t feel worse.

        He can't believe you're actually convincing him. He must be stupid or desperate for a good lay. 

        You smiled, proud as you placed your bowl on the coffee table, wrapping your arms around Andrew’s torso, forcing him to stay with you as you nuzzled your head against his chest.

        Andrew grimaced, before sighing, draping his arm around your shoulder half-heartedly. He watched as you put on some stupid movie of a boy who wants to be an artist. “A Dog of Flanders” or something like that… Some old movie.

        The movie was boring and he could feel himself falling asleep, but he didn’t want to sleep in case you tried to steal his kidney or whatever weird shit you're into.

        But he couldn’t help it as he slipped unconscious, his head falling to rest on his shoulder awkwardly. You felt his heartbeat soften as you rested on his chest, waiting until the sad part of the movie came. 

        You turned the movie off before something bad could happen to Patrasche (the boy’s dog in the movie). 

        You got up from the couch, looking at Andrew to make sure he was still asleep before you opened up his front door. You looked down the hallway to make sure nobody was coming, then opened your front door. You walked back and grabbed Andrew’s collar, dragging him off the couch and into your apartment.

        You left Andrew inside your living room, then shut the door. You let out a sigh, checking the time. 

        2 AM. 

        Good. Nobody should be walking down the apartments at anytime, so it should be fine for you to spend the next hour packing Andrew’s stuff and moving him in.

        You grabbed some rope from your secret drawer in your room, tying Andrew up in case he wakes up (though, you doubt it considering he was drugged, not passed out). 

        Andrew may be lonely, but you doubt he’s lonely enough to just live with a killer. Manipulation is best, but you just have to try and think of a good way to keep him under control.

        You could always use an accomplice… 

        Nonetheless, you brainstormed ideas as you moved Andrew’s clothes and small belongings into your home, starting to create your perfect scene. 

        A few tries of reorganizing furniture and stuffing his clothes into your closet and drawers to make it look like he’s always lived here and you succeeded. You added his bath products into your bathroom, along with his hairbrush and toothbrush. You snatched some foods from his pantry and added it to yours, hoping the sight of familiar foods would make it look more like home.

        Last, but not least, you fed your cat Georgia.

        What? It’s a cute name, and Georgia reminds you of peaches since it’s the state fruit, which is oddly cute…

        Georgia was a cat you adopted from the pet shelter you volunteer at. Originally, you only volunteered so you can maintain a good reputation in case of any suspicion against you (like that would ever happen though, you’re a professional). 

        A few months of volunteering at the shelter, you eventually grew an attachment to the brown ragamuffin cat. She had the sass of a gossipy Southern aunt, hence the name of the Southern state Georgia. 

        Georgia was an outside cat though, preferring to roam the streets and go on adventures rather than be cramped in a small room. You can’t blame her—it’s probably boring as a cat napping and shitting in litter all the time. 

        You kept your window open for Georgia to crawl in and get her food. Now onto more pressing matters…

        You grabbed some pajamas you took from Andrew’s wardrobe, a simple white T-shirt and grey sweatpants.

        You stripped him of his clothing, glancing over and making a mental note of his large, well-endowed package. 

        It’s a fact you’ll need to know later. You justified to yourself as you clothed him with his pajamas. 

        After dressing him to looking like he had been taking a planned slumber, you dragged him into your room and plopped him down on your king-sized bed (ah, the perks of being a middle-class citizen). 

        You tucked him in before smiling, satisfied with the perfect scene you’d set up for Andrew.

        Step one: completed.

        Now with that out of the way, you needed to focus on the dead body. You opened the body bag that still rested in your apartment, placing the man in the kitchen where the tile was. You picked him up (with a struggle) and got him onto your kitchen counter. Luckily, he didn’t bleed much thanks to the dried blood on his slit neck, but there were still blood splatters on your counter nonetheless. 

        First, you checked for any belongings. A phone to make sure there wasn’t a tracker, a wallet for identification (and money), and any valuable items such as a ring to not only see if he was married and someone would be looking for him, but to also sell.

        What? Money is money.

        After grabbing what you wanted, you maneuvered his body so that his head was hanging over the kitchen sink. You carefully, with delicacy and grace, proceeded to make incisions into the crow feet of the male’s skin, using a scalpel to unfold the layers of thin skin and muscle with ease.

        Once reaching the bone, you used a handheld bone saw and proceeded to carefully cut small triangles into the bone, making holes. You grabbed some forceps and your scalpel, cutting off the optic nerves and severing them from the eyeballs. 

        You tilted the dead man’s head forward, catching the squishy eyeballs and delicately placing them in a jar of UW solution so they could be preserved.

        Now with claiming your trophy, you had to get to business. You spent hours in the dead of night making careful incisions and cuts, grabbing organs, bone marrow, certain body parts; all valuable in the black market as you plucked them out like a bird would to a worm in the ground.

        Preserving all the organs inside different jars of UW liquid, you finally finished dissecting your little money-making machine. You grave your laptop and emailed some colleagues of yours, telling them of your new stock. You emailed your cleaner, setting up a time tomorrow to rid the body before it’ll start to decompose and smell. 

        You placed the rest of the dead male’s body in a bag, and another bag, and another bag; triple-bagging him like goods at a grocery store, making sure no leaks or spills would happen to the body. 

        You left him there in the living room, cleaning up your mess in the kitchen and storing the jars in boxes to package up later. You didn’t pack the jar of eyes though, oh no, that was your trophy.

        You went to your bedroom and placed the jar to join your collection. The door leading to a small closet in your room was filled with shelves of peering, preserved optic orbs instead of your favorite shirt. It was a collection of your kills, trophies you rightfully earned whilst purifying the world. 

        You shut the closet door and looked over at Andrew sleeping on your bed. You turned your eyes to look at the clock, letting out a sigh.

        6 A.M. 

        You haven’t even had any sleep yet. Being a serial killer is hard work, but you have bills to pay and dresses to buy.

        You grabbed Andrew’s laptop you stole, exiting out of the many porn tabs where the female actress looked like you. You opened his emails and wrote an email to your landlord, impersonating as Andrew and explaining that "he" will be moving in (Y/N)’s apartment and dropping the keys off at the lobby for them to pick up in the morning, so to put his apartment on sale and take his name off it. 

        You finished with the living situation and now it was time to shower for bed (finally). You grabbed one of Andrew’s sweatshirts and a pair of panties and pajama shorts, walking to the bathroom to shower.

        You rid yourself of all the blood from that dead man. The dirt from dragging him through it. Sweat from running around the diner and carrying limp bodies around. And tears from laughing at just how smart you were.

        Yet again, you got away with it. It’s to be expected, murdering people runs in your family after all. 

        You got dressed in your new sleepwear from now on. Usually you’ll wear a silk nightgown, but with Andrew here, it’s best to wear his clothes every now and then to establish a sense of familiarity between the two of you. 

        You put your hair in stay-in hair rollers to sleep in. You applied lotion on your face and body, brushing your teeth before calling it a night. 

        You walked into your bedroom, closing the bathroom door behind you. Turning off the lights, you climbed into bed with Andrew, burying your head into his chest and wrapping your arms around his unconscious body.

        You snatched his phone, scooting closer to him and propping his head onto your chest. You unlocked his phone with his thumb, taking a picture of the two of you and saving it as his phone screen.

        You put his phone on the charger, pushing him away from you before settling down to sleep.

        .        

        .

        You sat in a bathtub, the water pure red as you relaxed. You washed your skin and your hair, letting the crimson water soak into your body.

        Today was your special day. It was your wedding day.

        You were getting married to your high school sweetheart, Judah Mot. He was a dashing transfer student from Europe, with gorgeous tan skin, piercing blue eyes, and golden hair gifted from angels. His voice might as well been its own sacred hymn, and his body was one the Greeks used to carve into marble. 

        The epitome of the perfect man.

        Or so you thought.

        You sang a soft hum, enjoying the vinyl's soft static of your phonograph's needle softly scrapping against the disc's grooves, creating that peaceful static you could honestly listen to just by itself. You listened to Doris Shore's song "A Guy is a Guy,” humming as you rinsed the conditioner out of your hair.

        ”Little one?” your mother knocks on the door, “Will you be out soon? Your dress is ready, and all the bridesmaids are so excited to see you.” 

        ”Yes, mama.” You hummed. 

        “Make haste now, child. The groom is waiting.” Your mother spoke, before her heels clicked away.

        You got up from your red bath, smelling of roses from your bath bomb. You rinsed with the shower head to rid any debris of the bath bomb on you, then proceeded to dry off. 

        You grabbed a white bra and panties, putting them on before exiting the bathroom. Your mother and soon-to-be mother-in-law helped you put on the dress that your mother-in-law chose.

        It was beautiful. While it wasn’t completely your style, having an itchy top with no barrier to protect the lace from rubbing against your skin, it was tradition for the mother-in-law to choose the dress. You didn’t mind much, at least the tulle skirt was pretty and comfy, enough so you can walk without tripping. 

        You put on your dress, letting your five sisters put your hair into a braided bun. You put on the white high heels your mother-in-law provided, smiling as she gave you a necklace.

        ”I wore this necklace on my wedding day. I was going to give this to my daughter, but I was never blessed with one.” She explained. “Until now, that is.” She spoke, putting a lovely silver necklace onto your neck.

        “Thank you, mother.” You smiled. 

        Your sister tried to put blush on your face, but you stopped her. 

        “Oh, please. No makeup except the red lipstick. I know that it’ll get ruined later.” You spoke politely.

        “From crying of joy?” your sister giggled.

        ”Precisely.” You smiled.

        Your sister put on the lipstick you request, and then you were escorted with your family and mother-in-law to a white limousine. The limousine had red leather seats, black carpet, and some white grape juice (non-alcoholic, per your request). 

        You engaged in small conversation until the limousine stopped at your destination. Your sisters opened the door for you, your mother-in-law stepping out to help you out of the car. 

        You were faced with a walkway, wedding music playing as you looked around. There were folding chairs in aisles, leaving space for the walkway, the chairs filled with your family and groom’s family. There was a table with deserts that you will certainly be exploring later. And your father was here, smiling at you as he stood by the limousine door.

        He held out his arm, waiting for you to hook your arm, to which you did. You smiled, watching as your niece walked down the aisle with a basket of white petals, dropping them on the ground. They got seated, and it was your time to shine.

        You walked down the aisle with your father, feeling all the eyes on you, as all should on your special day. You locked eyes with Judah, happy as you walked to the groom.

        Your father took his seat next to your mother as you stood in front of Judah, smiling. Your brother, a priest, was the officiator for the wedding, holding the (L/N)’s family vows in his hand. He smiled at you, watching as you joined with the groom. 

        You gave vows, just short and sweet ones. Sickness and health, blah, blah, blah. Get on with it so you can get to the fun part.

        You exchanged vows and watched one of your little nephews come up with the rings, being the ring bearer as he held up his hands with the rings.

        You took the ring and put it on Judah’s right hand. He looked at you, confused. Why didn’t you put the ring on his left hand, closest to his heart? You gave a reassuring smile, saying to trust you. You held right hand up for him to put your ring on.

        “Do you, Judah Mot, take (Y/N) (L/N) to be your lawfully wedded wife?” your brother questioned.

        “I do.” Judah answered.

        ”And do you, (Y/N) (L/N), take Judah Mot to be your lawfully wedded husband?” your brother questioned.

        “I do not.” You smiled.

        Judah’s smile dropped, surprised. “W-what?” 

        “When you all came in today, you received a quiz of the bride and groom. It came with questions. 'What’s the bride’s favorite color?’ ‘What is the groom’s favorite TV show’ and one question: Who does the groom love?” you spoke.

        ”(Y/N), now is not the time to be talking about the wedding activities! You just rejected—“ 

        “It’s Delilah.” You answered. “Judah loves Delilah, my best friend.” 

        Some gasps played out in the audience, but your family members didn’t look surprised. It was if they knew, because you told them. You told them when you saw his eyes stop showing that love and compassion you fell in love with back in high school.

        His eyes held nothing now; but when they looked at her, they lit up. You could deal with a broken heart, you can deal with a breakup; but there’s no broken heart in infidelity. In fact, you felt glad.

        Glad to see Judah for what he really is, just another piece of meat that fell victim to you. Glad to see your best friend, one who had been with you since middle school and supporting your relationship since the beginning, was nothing more than a home-wrecking skank.

        Stay away from what doesn’t belong to you. 

        “For our first activity tonight, I’d like to begin the hunt.” You smiled. 

        This island was yours—your family’s. You had private jets to escort all of Judah’s family members for the trip out here. There was no cell service out here, not on a literal island. You told the private jets to accept no passengers in or out for 48 hours. Thanks to the private jets escorting Judah’s family out here, they have no idea where they are, so they were never able to tell anyone a location for where they’re heading; meaning they’ll just drop off the radar. Everyone was isolated, including you and your own family. 

        Perfect.

        “Every family member of the groom has one hour to find a place to hide, or try to run, before you die. The hunt will last for 48 hours.” You explained.

        He was the groom, but he was never your groom. 

        You walked to the desert table, picking up a delicious red raspberry macaroon, taking a bite. 

        “May the odds and your Gods ever be in your favor.” You smiled.

        Your father pulled out a chainsaw from under the dessert table, revving it to start the game. You lifted a silver lid to reveal a 9mm, shooting your husband in the head.

        Everyone panicked, getting down on the ground, rushing for cover, pushing each other to the ground, anything to hide from the stray bullets, the chainsaws, the machetes. 

        You smashed someone’s face in with your heel, watching as blood stained your dress. And you laughed. You laughed till you cried tears of joy, and thank God you didn’t wear a heavy amount of makeup to ruin your beaming face. 

        You smiled, making eye contact with Delilah as she hid behind a tree. She saw you and ran, but you smiled, holding up your gun and aiming, before shooting for the kill. 

        Oh, what a romantic day it was.

        .        

        .

        You had woken up first, you always wake up early, even if you go to bed late. It’s important to keep a routine, even if you’re a killer.

        You woke up at 10 AM, but stayed in bed till 12 PM, when Andrew finally woke up. You pretended to be sleeping, still buried in his chest. 

  When Andrew stirred, groggy and a bit woozy, still seeming to be affected by those drugs you gave him. He finally opened his eyes, confused on where he was and why he was here. 

        “The fuck…?” was the first thing he muttered, followed by him jumping, “(Y/N)?!”

        You pretended to wake up upon hearing him, letting out a tired moan before opening your eyes.

        “Mhm?” you hummed, your eyes glancing to Andrew before smiling. “Good morning, my love.”

        “What am… why am I—(Y/N)!” Andrew huffed, pissed off, confused, scared. “What the hell?”

        “Language.” You frowned. “What are you talking about, dear? Did you have another nightmare?”

        “I don’t have nightmares. I’m a man.” Andrew quickly retorted with a frown, before shaking his head, pushing you off his chest. “N-no! You’re distracting me! You killed that man!”

        ”We killed him.” You hummed, speaking as if it was natural.

        ”You did.” Andrew rebutted, frowning.

        “Dear, get up.” You sighed, sitting up.

        Andrew reluctantly got up, cautious as he stood near the door. You got up, Andrew taking notice of your attire.

        “Take off my shirt.” He huffed.

        “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” You quickly spoke. “Besides, I always wear it. What’s with you?”

        “You don’t always wear it! It’s mine.” Andrew huffed, before looking around the room.

        His poster of his favorite game was hung up. His pants and belt were on the floor, left lazily scattered on the ground like he owned the place. His shoes were by the bed. His wallet and phone were on his bed stand, unlocking it to reveal a photo of Andrew sleeping on your chest.

        “What?” Andrew questioned, confused. “What’d you do to my screen saver.” 

        “Jeez, hon…” you sighed, pretending to be tired with the conversation and “accusations” already. “Is this about your nightmares again?”

        “I already told you, I don’t have nightmares!” Andrew huffed. 

        “I mean the dreams, or memories, you get of when you were living alone. Without me.” You spoke, resting your head on your palm, watching his meltdown as he tried to decide if this was real or not.

        “You’re tricking me! You’re—“

        You shut him up with a kiss, pressing your lips onto his lips as you placed your hands onto his cheeks. 

        It was annoying having to kiss a man so damn much, and you almost felt repulsed having to kiss this damn-near stranger again and again; but you had to keep the act up. You couldn’t just let him run off.

        You have to drag him down with you.

        “W-what was that for?” Andrew inquired, confusion and a small tint of red visible on his face.

        “I can’t kiss my fiancé?” you tilted your head, smiling.

        “F-fiancé?” Andrew questioned, surprised. 

        “Duh.” You smiled, rolling your eyes. “You’re the one that proposed, dummy. We’re saving up for engagement rings though.” 

        Andrew frowned, looking at his finger. He didn’t have a ring, but it checks out considering you said they were saving money for rings.  

        “Now, come on.” You smiled. “Get up. We have work to do today!” 

        Andrew got up from the bed, hesitant as he looked at you. He sighed, getting up from the bed. You watched with a smile as he moved his way to the closet, opening it and letting out a short scream.

        “What the fuck?!” he shouted, his eyes meeting dozens of others entrapped in jars.

        “Love?” you questioned, feigning ignorance as you ‘wondered’ why he was frightened.

        “What is this shit?!” Andrew questioned, holding a jar up to show you, before quickly grimacing and putting it back down on the shelf when the eyes rolled to him. 

        “Um, my trophy collection?” you scoffed, offended, before quickly correcting yourself. “It’s our collection, duh?”

        “No, no. It’s not mine. I didn’t do any of it!” 

        “Andrew!” you huffed, standing up from the bed. “You know, I’m really not liking your attitude. I understand you have dreams and sometimes mix them with reality, but Andrew you need to stop acting crazy.”

        “Crazy?!” Andrew exclaimed, his mouth opening and closing like a fish. “Me?! Crazy? Woman, there are eyeballs in your closet!”  

        “And?” you retorted, crossing your arms. 

        “It’s gross! And immoral!” Andrew groaned.

        “Please, you’re not a saint yourself.” You rolled your eyes. “Andrew, you promised when you proposed that you’d join my family’s business. If you’re proposing to leaving me, or telling about the business, you’ll be another body bag in the morgue.” 

        “B-but—“ Andrew stammered, utterly confused and possibly even starting to doubt it.

        Did he really ask her for her hand? Did he really kill someone? Kill more than one? 

        “You better be dressed when you get into the kitchen. I’m going to get dressed and cook breakfast.” You chirped, a smile on your face before you walked to the bathroom to get your clothes inside of your walk-in closet.

        You wore a cute black and white polka dot dress, wearing some shorts underneath and pairing it with black Mary Jane flats. 

        You undid your hair curls, brushing out your hair to show your perfect curls. You applied hair spray to keep it in place, and put on your signature red lipstick. 

        You exited your bathroom to see Andrew sitting down on the bed, staring at you with a blank expression. He met your eyes and smiled, standing up.

        “So...dear?” he spoke, almost as if he was questioning it as he walked over to you. “Take off your clothes and prove it." He smirked, pinning you down to the mattress.

        ...What?

Chapters: Chapter 1, current chapter, chapter 3, chapter 4 (in the works)

I don't really have anything important to say. My updates might be a little slow, I have some family issues going on and I just got a new job. We'll see what happens.

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