#All I will say for now is that it involves Gooey

[lady-zephyrine]

Had the sudden urge to draw these two together.

Drawcia's other form is more pink than I realized.

[moonstruckme]

hi lovely I was wondering if you could do a fic about a touch starved reader where she’s just really needy and wants to be held but is nervous to ask? and it’s just very fluffy and sweet, thank you so much!!

Hi sweetheart, thanks for requesting!

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Sirius is cozied up between James’ legs on the couch, tuned into his phone while James watches the football match on TV, and you’re oozing a jealousy so tender it hurts. 

It’s silly, but you can’t help thinking about how warm they must both be. James has one of his forearms draped over Sirius’ chest, their hands linked casually. Sirius’ bony, pale fingers intertwined with James’ thicker ones. They look comfortable and at ease with each other in a way that feels so out of reach. You wish you could join them, but they look too happy like this. You couldn’t ask them to move. 

“Dove?” 

You blink, focussing back on Remus. “Sorry?” 

“I asked how your meeting went.” A bit of concern digs into the space between his brows as he continues stirring the pot of soup on the stove. You give him a little smile, and it melts away. 

“Oh, not bad at all.” Today you had your first team meeting at your new job. You’d been nervous leading up to it, worried your boss would ask you to introduce yourself or present something, but it had blown over smoothly. “I was stressed for nothing, I didn’t even have to talk.” 

“Mm, good for you.” Your boyfriend gives you a knowing look, well aware that your shyness can sometimes get in the way of you sharing your ideas. “I’m glad it went well. I hope you start to feel comfortable enough to talk soon, though.” 

“Maybe,” you say agreeably, moving closer to him so you can rest the side of your head on his bicep. It’s an awkward sort of lean, but the most you’ll allow yourself. 

You can sense Remus’ confusion even without him making a sound. You know that if you pulled back to look, you’d find a familiar little indent hovering above his nose. “Tired?” he asks. 

Your heart gives a pitiful throb. Remus isn’t the most tactile of your boyfriends, but it would take so little for him to reach up with his free hand, wrap it around your shoulders. That’s all you want.

“No,” you reply, though you do sound tired, voice soft and breathy, “just love you.” 

“Sweetheart.” His voice is sticky with affection, and your heart balloons with hope. You feel his arm shift underneath you. His hand comes up to hold your cheek, keeping you steady while he presses a brief kiss to the top of your head. The hand falls away. “I love you too.” 

It feels ungrateful and a bit traitorous to feel so dejected after hearing those words, but you do. You leave your head where it is, heavy with a loneliness that’s completely invalid, while Remus continues stirring the soup, humming now. 

“Look at them.” Sirius’ voice gets your attention from the living room, dripping with faux rancor. He’s glowering at you over the top of the couch. James begrudgingly turns from the match to look at him, half curious what he’s on about. “They’re being all ooey gooey in the kitchen without us, can you believe it?” 

You sort of want to laugh at the irony. 

“You were given the opportunity to join,” Remus reminds him mildly. “I said I needed help chopping, and only y/n came to my aid.” 

“Yes, well I didn’t know there’d be declarations of love involved,” says Sirius, never one to be made to feel guilty. 

James, on the other hand, looks a tad penitent. 

“I didn’t hear you,” he says helplessly, climbing out from under Sirius. “Do you still need an extra pair of hands?”

“No, almost done now,” Remus says, but James comes anyway. He peers over Remus’ other shoulder, pecking him apologetically on the cheek. 

“Smells great,” he notes appreciatively. He leans across Remus to see your face, grinning in that way of his that makes it seem like someone’s brought the sun inside. “Thanks for taking up the mantle.” 

You make a quiet sound of amusement, and James’ smile fades. You hate yourself for doing it to him, even though it wasn’t intentional.

“You alright, lovie?” He scrutinizes your expression. You’re reminded that James is often more perceptive than you give him credit for. “You look a bit sad.” 

“No, I’m good.” You give him a smile. Remus’ shoulder shifts under your head as he looks down, trying to see you. 

James appears unconvinced. He moves behind Remus, over to where you stand. “Hug?” he offers. 

God, you feel like you could cry. That wouldn’t be good.

“Sure,” you say, as if it isn’t the deepest, most desperate desire of your heart. 

You turn into his arms, and he wastes no time in enveloping you. James gives the best hugs. Somehow, intuitively, he always knows just the amount of pressure you need, when to squeeze your back and when to rub it, exactly the right time to let go. It feels like he’s pouring love into you through his touch. He sets his chin on top of your head, and you swallow a happy sigh. 

“I can tell something’s bothering you,” he says quietly. He sweeps a hand up and down your spine, and you shiver, pressing your palms into his back. He does it again. “Talk to me, angel.” 

“I’m good,” you promise him. It’s a lot more truthful now. 

Still, you can feel James’ dissatisfaction. He cups the back of your neck, thumb brushing the baby hairs at your nape. “Anything I can do?” 

You clutch him to you, the fabric of his sweatshirt bunching in your hands. It smells like laundry detergent. “Just this, please.” 

“Aww,” Sirius croons, and it’s not until then that you realize the other two boys have been silent. Probably worried about you. You feel instantly sheepish. “I get it. You just wanted some love, didn’t you babydoll?” You look at him over James' shoulder, and predictably, he’s insufferably smug. He sees you watching and pats the top of the couch invitingly. “Come here, sweet thing, let me fix you up.” 

“I think I’m doing just fine,” James teases, but his grip loosens, one hand remaining on the small of your back as he walks you over to the couch. 

“Yeah, but we can share.” Sirius rolls his eyes. He grabs for you the second you’re close enough, hauling you up against him while James flops down on your other side. “What game are you playing, standing over there and looking all forlorn?” he asks you, peppering your cheek with kisses. A startled giggle spurts out of you, but he remains completely serious. “If you wanted a cuddle, all you had to do was ask.”

“It seemed dramatic,” you admit, though now that Sirius has got your face squished in his hand and James’ arm is draped around your shoulder, your silence feels a bit dramatic too. “And kind of needy.” 

“Babe.” Sirius is heartbroken, pulling back to give you a horrified look. “Being needy is my thing. I hardly think asking for a hug could challenge my hard-earned reputation.”

“You’re not needy,” you say warmly, but Sirius only rolls his eyes as if you’re being difficult.

“Anyway, wanting a hug is hardly needy,” James chimes in. “I’m always happy to give you one.” 

“Same here,” Remus says from the kitchen, sounding a bit apologetic. “Though I wish you would have asked, dove. I can’t read minds like Jamie can.” 

Your chest tightens guiltily. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” he says easily. “Listen, dinner’s almost done, but want to put on a film to watch while we eat? I could make it up to you with a cuddle.” 

“That sounds great,” you reply thankfully, and James grabs the remote to begin going through the movies while Sirius gets comfy against the side of the couch. He lifts your legs to drape them over his. 

“Good luck getting you away from me,” he murmurs conspiratorially. James chuckles, arm a welcome weight around your shoulders. “I’m not giving you up.” 

It seems like there was room for you after all.

[corroded-hellfire]

The Bunny and the Hair - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: All you want is a cute photo of your daughter in her bunny costume and a photo of the whole Munson family together. But nothing is simple when the children of Eddie Munson are involved

Note: Happy Easter! Thank you to my darlings @munson-blurbs and @offensiunculaee for helping me brainstorm ideas when the only thing in my head was Eliza dressed as a bunny 💕

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Aww, come on sweet pea. Give me a smile.”

Your five-month-old daughter does the very opposite of that. It seems that Eliza Munson has somehow perfected the art of giving a piercing glare before mastering sitting up on her own without being a little wobbly. 

The fuzzy white bunny suit she’s in, hood with ears and all, paints the most adorable picture you’ve ever seen. It would be even cuter if she would flash a brief look of glee for a single photo. This Easter is warmer than it’s been in the last few years and it’s easy to understand that she’s getting hot, which is making her cranky. But you just want one good picture. 

“Just one little smile for Mommy? Please?” You raise the small silver camera to your eye before remembering that this new fancy one has a digital screen where you can see what the picture will look like without squinting through a little hole. 

Deciding to start snapping shots and see what happens, your forefinger presses the small shiny button that makes a soft click after click. A giggle bubbles out of you as you notice your baby getting grumpier and grumpier with each shot. A flipbook would be a perfect place to put these photos and flip through them to see Eliza Hulk-out in real time. 

She is getting officially fed up now. 

“Boys?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder to where your husband and sons stand, watching your attempt at an infant photo shoot. “Can you make her smile so I can get one good shot? Then I’ll get her out of that.”

If anything can make Eliza laugh, it’s her brothers. Particularly Luke, he likes to remind people. 

“Sure,” Ryan says, looking around for any prop to assist him. His brown eyes snag on the eggs on the coffee table, the ones you and the boys had been in the middle of preparing to be dyed before Eddie came out with Eliza in all her fluffy glory. “Hey! Liza! Watch this!” He catches the baby’s eye and picks up one of the boiled eggs and jumps up, pretending to crack it over Eddie’s head. It brings a small smile out of your daughter. 

“Hey, hey!” Luke says, waving his arms to attract his little sister’s attention. “Eliza, look!” The younger Munson boy grabs an egg and props one socked foot on the edge of the coffee table to leverage himself up high enough to copy Ryan’s actions.

“Oh, Luke, that one wasn’t–”

Your warning comes too late. The ten-year-old had picked up one of the eggs that had yet to be boiled in preparation for decorating. This comes to light when Luke crushes the egg over his father’s head and runny yolk and gooey egg whites plop down onto Eddie’s hair and drip down his frizzy curls. 

The air feels as if it’s been sucked out of the room. All eyes are on Eddie as his shoulders bunch up towards his ears and his jaw drops open, a small dollop of yellow yolk falling onto his salt-and-pepper scruff. It’s hard to tell how long the room is frozen, silent until—

Furious giggles come from behind you and it breaks the tension that kept the four of you rooted to your spots. You whip your head around to see Eliza laughing so hard that she loses her balance and flops down onto her side, unable to remain sitting up straight on her own. Quickly, you’re able to set her up right again and grab the camera getting a few shots of her, giddy as can be in her bunny suit. 

Relieved that’s taken care of, you now turn back to look back at your husband, who hasn’t moved a muscle. Neither has Luke. 

It’s obvious to you by the look on Eddie’s face that he can tell that it was an accident, but your son is wide-eyed in fear, clearly not getting the same sense. 

“E-Eliza, say bye-bye to Luke cause Dad is gonna kill me,” Luke says softly, never taking his bright blue eyes from his father’s egg-covered form. 

Eddie takes a step towards Luke slowly, clearly wanting to keep Luke in suspense until the last second, before he wipes a large glob of the sticky egg goo from his own hair and rubs it into the little boy’s messy curls. A maniacal laugh erupts from deep within Eddie as he tugs Luke against his chest, not letting his son get away as he squirms and squeals, trying to escape the shared messiness. Despite his protests, when Luke pulls back and looks up at his dad, he’s laughing. 

Watching the two of them in amusement, you put your hands on your hips and shake your head. Never a dull moment with the Munson men. The two of them continue to rub egg on one another as you turn towards the only clean boy in the house.

“Ryan, can you go get Eliza out of her costume? Last thing we need is her overheating.”

“Yeah, you get cranky enough already,” Ryan tells his baby sister as he scoops her up. Eliza gives a little harumph, but you think that’s more from the way the twelve-year-old holds onto her tightly than offense at his words. 

You set the camera down on the coffee table, making sure it isn’t near any of the eggs.

“Damn,” you say. “Forgot to get a family picture.”

“We’ll take one when Ry and Eliza come back out,” Eddie says, dodging Luke’s sticky fingers. 

“That’s gonna look great with you two looking like you fell in a vat of slime,” you say with a laugh. 

Your husband and his mini me only continue to get messier until you hear Ryan’s footsteps coming back down the hall toward the living room. The moment your eyes land on your daughter’s new ensemble, you have to do a double take. Eliza is beaming in her brother’s arms, wearing her bright pink bathing suit covered in large, white polka dots. 

Left speechless, your eyes widen and you’re only able to gesture with your hands towards the swimsuit.

Ryan shrugs as he hefts his sister up on his hip. “She grabbed it when I opened her drawer. And you said you didn't want her overheating.”

Your gaze slides from Eliza, over to Luke and Eddie, then back to Ryan.

“You and I are going to be the ones who stick out in the Easter picture,” you tell your oldest. “We look normal.”

“You mean we don’t look normal?” Luke asks, jumping on his dad’s back and scrunching up the man’s eggy curls. 

Sighing and shaking your head in amusement, you snatch up the camera and fiddle with it until you set the timer for three minutes. The entertainment unit is the perfect height to rest the camera so it can get a good shot of the whole family. You set it on the shelf right above the television and nod your family over toward where the lens is facing.

Eddie, still sporting Luke as a backpack, walks over and stands on your right. Ryan, carrying a still-beaming Eliza tucks into your left side. It’s impossible not to look over the gang around you, letting out a laugh as you take in the chaotic bunch.

“Smile!” Luke instructs everyone.

Eddie slips his hand around your waist and pulls your side flush up against his, squishing some of the egg whites against you, causing you to let out a squeal of laughter just as the flash of the camera goes off. Your husband grins and presses a big wet kiss on your cheek

“Now that picture’s gonna be a keeper,” he says. 

[ofeliaxoxo]

I’ve been wanting to write landoscar but they intimidate me so here is a little nonsense snippet for fun. I’m genuinely more embarrassed by this one than when I posted **** ****

“Bunny, where’s the - oh my God.”

Lando gives up completely, covers his face with his hands, sinks defeatedly into his own palms.

“Mate,” he warns, like Max is gonna start on him, which he absolutely is, but not now, not while Oscar is sat there practically melting, flushed and damp and stiff, eyes on the coffee table, trying to hide in the fist folded under his chin.

It’s always funny when Max gets these little glimpses in. Makes him feel weird, like he’s intruding where he’s not wanted, even though Lando’s the one inviting him in, showing it all off. Wants Max there, even, has him third wheeling this afternoon.

God knows he’s third wheeled for Max often enough, so maybe fair’s fair.

Still.

Bunny.

Makes sense, though, if Max forces it to. Oscar’s kind of got buck teeth. Max is sure that’s how it started, the teeth. Lando can pick at things like that.

“I’m not saying anything,” he protests while they stare at him, expectant and tense. He doesn’t really have to.

-

He can’t help but bring it up that night, has it yanked out of him by the vodka.

Oscar’s at the bar, ordering something far too animatedly. It seems involved. There’s hand gestures - he keeps holding up three fingers and nodding. He’s so awkward sometimes.

“Bob, are you seriously fucking calling him bunny?”

Regrets it, then, instantly. He doesn’t want Lando to get upset about this.

But Lando’s whole face creases into a smile, bright with the drink, mouth pointy at the corners, stretched out with delight.

“Yeah,” gooey, sticky-sweet, shiny-eyed like he’s had something stronger than what Max knows he’s had, “‘cause he’s my bunny,” and Max has no idea what to do with this, even though they’re drunk. Lando sounds like he really means it.

[littlest-w01f]

Falling

Rhysand x Reader(+ Venom)

For @starfallweek [hosted by: @azsazz and @writingsbychlo]

Starfall Week 2025 Masterlist

Day 3 - Character A is confused about the meaning of Starfall and misinterprets the entire evening.

Summary: While exploring an Illyrian mountain, a meteorite crashed into place, carrying an alien species that now called you its host, leaving you to explain that Starfall wasn't the end of the world.

Cw: Just silly fun, Venom is jumping universes again.

a/n: I was really thinking hard about this prompt, redid it twice... Then I had a dream of Rhys and Venom in Reader, it was like destiny... So... I had to. And I present to you, Venom in the Maasverse.

"STARFALL!? YOUR "MATE" WANTS TO CELEBRATE STARS FALLING?" The panicked voice of the creature that now lived inside you said in your head, a black gooey substance rising from your arms as it went back down, "HE WANTS TO KILL US."

You groaned, head pressing in your hands, as you sat in front of the vanity mirror, "Please stop yelling at me..." You knew you should be more careful of an alien sharing your body, but it wasn't the weirdest that had ever happened to you. "That's not what Starfall is and Rhys doesn't want us dead..."

The being pulsed within you, tendrils of shadowy black substance snaking through your veins. "YELL? I am merely expressing concern for our mutual survival! This... Rhys, he is an unknown variable. His intentions could be anything!"

"He is not unknown, you are unknown." You pointed to your vanity, where beside your head a creature of a being fully black, apart from the white eyes looking at you, "Cauldron boil me, don't looking at me all judging..."

The entity's form shimmered and shifted on the vanity, its shadowy tendrils curling in agitation. "I am simply assessing the situation with the logical perspective only I can provide!" It paused, it talked like you, studying you intently with those piercing white eyes. "Tell me then, what IS this 'Starfall' celebration? And why would your mate wish to partake in such an event involving celestial bodies plummeting from the sky?"

Picking up a blush, you dabbed some on a brush, putting it on the creature's cheek, hoping to annoy it into going back inside, making it shake the powder off, "Its not actual stars falling, it's starlight, sprirts are carried through the sky tonight, it's actually gorgeous. So please, just enjoy the night."

The entity shuddered as the powder brushed its skin, a flicker of curiosity sparking in those pale eyes despite itself. "Starlight spirits... How whimsical. Illogical." It leaned closer, studying your face intently. "It would be better with actual stars. More chaotic."

"And how logical is an alien creature who calls itself Venom, of all things, landing in a universe where apparently magic is real and wherever you were before it wasn't?" You sighed, exasperated. "Just... Be normal tonight, only my mate knows about you and I would rater you not try to eat the head of my friends."

The dark being rippled, shadows swirling around its form as it considered your words. After a long moment, it inclined its head in a gesture almost like a nod. "Very well. I will try to blend in. To appear normal." Its voice took on a slightly mocking tone. "Far be it from me to cause a scene at your little celestial party."

"Not quite celestial. You're impossible." You muttered, setting your make-up down, this was like arguing with yourself, you couldn't wait for Rhysand to pull this thing out of you and send it home.

"Are you ready, my dear?" Rhysand knocked on the door to your shared room and walked in, "Mother, I need to get used to seeing that thing..." He blinked at the sight of you and your new, acquired alien, arguing. "If you don't want Azriel's shadows to see completion you better keep it away... I must say, darling, you never fail to surprise me. An alien parasite, really? How delightfully macabre."

"I'M NOT A PARACITE!" The creature yelled at Rhysand, glaring at the male. You sighed as now they argued, busy admiring the gown you were wearing.

Rhysand sauntered over to the vanity, looming behind the entity, darkness rising with each step. "Now then, let's establish some ground rules, shall we? Rule one: no trying to possess or otherwise harm my mate. Rule two: you attend this little gathering on your best behavior. If you do any of it I will rip you apart in ways you haven't seen before."

"SEE HE THREATENS US!" The creature turned to you, as expectant as a child complaining to their mother.

You rolled your eyes at the melodramatic display from both parties. "Enough, both of you." You fixed the creature with a stern look. "You, I know you just want to surive, but Rhys isn't going to hurt us. He's my mate, my love. I trust him completely."

Turning to Rhysand, you smiled softly. "And darling, please don't threaten it. I know it's strange having an extra presence around, but until we find a way to send it home, it's a part of me... It's here to stay for a while." Your hand came up to cup his cheek affectionately, you knew he was agitated, the creature had added a layer of protection to your mental shields, Rhysand had said it looked like dark spikes all over, forcing him outside your mind.

Rhysand's expression softened almost imperceptibly at your touch and gentle words. He placed his hand over yours, calloused fingers brushing your skin. "As you wish, my heart. I will endeavor to tolerate our uninvited guest." His gaze flicked to the creature, eyes glinting with warning. "But know this - her safety and happiness are paramount. Anything threatening that, and there will be consequences beyond your comprehension."

"Isn't this perfect?" You smiled wide, getting up, the creature melting into your form, you could feel it in your head, missing Rhysand's presence, "Come on, let's go out there, enjoy Starfall."

"CELESTIAL BODIES."

"Please stop yelling, I will literally stab myself in the head."

{General Taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tele86}

{Rhysand Taglist- @yeonalie}

[waihtie]

Counting down to the season finale

Season 5 Episode 21 - Two Minutes to Midnight

○ Doc (Pestilence) is giving this person all kinds of diseases at once

This is gonna be gross. And this time I mean it.

○ Back to, in Dean's words, "Sam's genius plan to say "yes" to the Devil.

Of course he's pissed. And says no.

○ Cas baby is in a hospital

His "batteries are drained" from blasting himself outta there a few episodes back

So he's practically human while he recharges

Also, he looks so GOOD

Aweee ^. Dean is holding back a smile, I swear

○ Dean knocking that poor security guard out

He was acting pretty cute before that, too

○ Pestilence knows the boys killed his brothers. Imagine all these entities knowing who you are.

He wants payback. He is very unhappy.

Also, I was right about the "gross". Everyone there just died a gooey sickly death

Even the boys are very sick (but alive)

○ WOAH Cas that was badass

3 rings down

○ "I don't understand your definition of good news" lol

○ LMAO

There is something about their reactions here

THE PHOTO

"Why'd you take a picture?" "Why'd you have to use tongue?"

Crowley is a pro at saving his own ass. He is borrowing Bobby's soul bc as long as he has that, they won't kill him. But he wants to help.

Except they totally changed the way Souls work later in the show. "Later" as in two episodes from now

○ Sam tryna convince Dean to let him sacrifice himself again

Baby's self-worth is non-existant. Someone please give him a little kiss and a little compliment

○ Brady's team is playing it smart.

Step 1: Spread swine flu

Step 2: Sell the vaccine, but chock it full of Croatoan virus

Country-wide distribution

○ THE ICONIC DEATH ENTRANCE

The car. The "brush with Death". The casualness of him.

○ Awe Cas feeling useless

Awe Cas trying to let it out to Bobby, but he doesn't listen the way Dean does.

○ Crowley casually just has Death's scythe. And casually gives it to Dean.

HE ADDED A CLAUSE IN BOBBY'S CONTRACT SO BOBBY CAN WALK AGAIN

Is this self-preservation, or bc of his boy-crush on Dean?

I love Crowley. He always tries to act so tough and heartless, but he's got a heart.

○ Cas showing faith in Sam and thinking Sam's plan might actually work. It feels backhanded, bc my first thought was that it was funny that Cas really doesn't care that Sam's plan involves sacrificing himself.

Cas says Adam is Michael's vessel now

Oh Geez, Sam's plan is ever riskier than thought. I don't feel like writing it all out, tho.

○ Sam, Bobby and Cas are tryna stop the vaccine/virus from getting out.

So many good lines, not enough space.

Dean and Crowley found Death.

○ This conversation between Death and Dean is very interesting

Death says he's either as old as God or older. I feel based on what we know of God later on, this isn't true

It's kind of funny how Death went on this big monologue about how insignificant Dean is to him but then turns around and says he needs something from Dean because Lucifer has Death bound to him.

Lucifer is using Death to cause mass death. (Chicago was about to be wiped off the map)

GEEZ. Death is willing to GIVE Dean his ring, save all of Chicago, and most of the world -- but Dean has to let Sam do his plan.

He agrees. Do we buy it? Not really.

○ "What do you think Death does to people who lie to his face" I knew Dean would never let Sam willingly jump into the cage

○ Bobby showing his faith in Sam to Dean. I wish Sam could hear this. I wish I could right this all out, too

Ugh I love the funny moments, but I really wish there were gifs of those important moments about Sam, too. I want to show you the things Bobby is saying

What I should have written when Sam first mentioned the plan: his plan is to attempt to take over his body while Lucifer is wearing it just long enough to jump into the cage

[fourmoony]

I had an idea that is a little specific and it's okay if you don't want to write it. English is not my first language and I come from a big family that likes to talk loudly/likes to party, but I am introverted. I imagined what it would be like for the reader to date James and they are going to spend time with her family, and he sees the reader in her comfort zone (speaking in her first language and with her family) and just discussing silly things (like rules of some game) and it's all very loud and funny. He sees how you make people laugh and even though he doesn't understand anything he has a smile on his face and admires you for getting to know this new side of you even though you’ve been dating for a while

I love your writing and your work is amazing ❤️

thank you for requesting lovely! and thank you so much for your kind words <3

james x f!reader | 720 | masterlist

You're in your element, James thinks.

He's seen you at your happiest, sure. He's seen you necking pints with Sirius and discussing books with Remus, he's seen the aftermath of girl's night with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas. He's seen you laugh until your ribs hurt, commandeer your friends into playing your silly drinking games, dancing on tables, singing your heart out. You're a bubbly person, so obviously he's seen a handful of your happiest moments. But James doesn't think he's ever seen you in your element, at your most comfortable, your safest.

There's no hesitation in the way you speak to the group of your family members who are placed haphazardly around your mother's small kitchen. Even though he doesn't understand a lot of what you're saying, James can tell there's humour and wit, love and chagrin, and a little bit of sass to whatever it is you're saying. The conversation is moving too fast for him to pick up anything, because he's been learning small phrases here and there - it's important to him, and it makes you go all soft and gooey when he surprises you with a new phrase or loving comment. You're standing in the middle of the room, pointing at an older cousin of yours, an accusing look in your eye, but you're trying not to laugh.

It doesn't help that there seems to be eight other conversations happening at once, and James wonders how on earth your family ever get anything accomplished. You've been trying to organise a game of drunk UNO for the last fifteen minutes, but from what James has picked up on, no one can agree on house rules or game rules.

Your mother seems to be talking at you, fast and filled with love and humour and you're listening, but you're still talking at your older cousin, pointing at various people as you go, none of whom are listening, but are involved in their own, loud conversations.

If you weren't in the centre of all this, James would feel overwhelmed. Your family is loud and big and they don't seem to know what inside voices are. But it makes the final puzzle piece of you make sense. James understands, now, why you're always so willing to spend time with his overly large friend group, why you never hesitated or got nervous when you met him. You were born into this, and you handle it well.

He thinks you're beautiful every day, but right now you're ethereal. You're happy and comfortable and loud and obnoxious and James is pretty sure he's in love with you. The way you hold yourself, the way your words come from your mouth, fast and practiced and so fucking hot, it's all too much for James. He feels entranced by you, like you're some sort of sorcerer.

You return a few moments later, to his side, a happy smile on your face as everyone also collectively joins the table. James smiles bright when you press your lips to his cheek, rubbing your lipstick with your thumb. For a family who pick up on everything, James is surprised no one comments on your affection.

"Sorry," You murmur as you deal James his hand of UNO cards, "They can be a lot sometimes."

Your aunt - James thinks it's your aunt, anyway - yells at your youngest cousin, pointing here and there but he really cannot make out what he might be getting into trouble for. Eight conversations are happening around James as you deal the rest of the cards, there's people everywhere, but James wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

"Not at all," He assures you, a gentle hand on your thigh, "Seeing you in your comfort zone, so happy - I think? You were yelling a lot - makes me happy."

You huff a laugh, "He wouldn't admit that he cheats at UNO."

You give a disdainful look to your older cousin, who gives you a finger in return. You share a laugh with him after.

"You cheat at UNO." James reminds you, and while he wasn't aware the entire table was capable of having their own conversations and listening to his at the same time, he shouldn't be surprised.

Everyone erupts into chaos, and James knows he's in for it when he gets home.

[amateurasstrologer]

BY NECESSITY #1 SATURN IN PISCES

Hi babies, what’s up? You thought I forgot about you? 

Well, you’re right, I did. But I’m back, bitches - at least for today - to remind you that astrology is still the shit. So, before I ghost again, let’s talk. This week it’s a Saturn in Pisces special. 

Now, before you’re like, “Are you kidding? This bitch comes back after how long to talk about some random ass placement that doesn’t even apply to me? Ugh.” Just take a breath. Saturn is in Pisces. Right now. In the sky. So even if you’re not getting extra fucked like all the people having their Saturn Return, you’re still experiencing the energy and all the shit I’m about to say still applies to you. 

Alright. First, let’s talk Saturn. Saturn is all about form. It’s foundations, it’s structure, it’s hard, it’s the shit you stand on that you forget you’re standing on (until a transit happens and forces you to look down in ice cold terror). It’s important to remember that Saturn deals with all foundations - which foundation (physical, mental, etc.) depends on which sign you’re working with. When Pisces gets involved, you’re dealing with your psychological, emotional foundation.

Next, Pisces. Pisces is about all dissolution. Pisces is last in line for a reason. All the shit you absorbed during your little life cycle - collective beliefs and ideals, definitions of success, definitions of failure, the shit your parents believed, the shit their parents believed, etc. - someone needs to dissolve all that loud biz (cue Pisces) so you can get back in touch with the real true you (cue Aries). Pisces is on that transcendental shit - it’s here to elevate you, it’s fucking your foundations up in a beautifully painful liquidation process, as in we’re closing everything has got to go this business is over forever goodbye we’re done. 

When you put these two together and you get a fucking shit show. Hardening and dissolving? Opposites. Pisces is like “yes I’m here to love you forget you ever had a structure all of this is meaningless it’s time blend in the timeless space of forgiveness we’ll feel it all and understand the origin of life the mystery of life heart eyes” and Saturn is like “Look at your life! Build something! Be accountable! These are your limits - learn them! Wake up! You dropped your spine! Go pick it up! But also good luck bending over to pick it up because you don’t have a spine! Ha!” 

It doesn’t take eyes to see that Saturn is not comfy in Pisces. And it’s true, Pisces and Saturn do bring very different shit to the party. But relationships are raw materials, babies, it’s what you make with them that matters.

Saturn and Pisces, together, create an opportunity for you to give your psychological, emotional foundation a fucking upgrade. Pisces helps you dissolve the fake ass bull shit persona you’ve been passing off as a self, and Saturn helps you reform into a person who, you know, you’re actually happy to be - a person with a psychological foundation based on inner-truth, not on societal/cultural/ancestral rules and regulations. Bitch, you’re a treasure! You’re a beautiful unique person, not a robot! If you wanted to be all copy paste should have reincarnated as a keyboard smh. Wake up.

Saturn in Pisces is a call to transform yourself on a spiritual level. The deepest level. (Deeper than you Scorpio sorry.) This isn’t some find a new job, find a new hobby bull shit. This is deep unconscious reconditioning. This is scary, triggering shit. You thought Pisces was out here just blending in the gooey goodness of love? Please. Think about what dissolution actually means. You want to be psychologically free? You want to scrub your karma? Get in touch with your essence? Lol. Girl. Get ready. This transformation process is a gnarly, confusing, and, most importantly, it takes time (thanks, Saturn). Just can’t rush it. 

Alright, before you get too scared to continue, let me say it one more time for the people in the back: When Saturn is in Pisces, the unconscious, emotional (Pisces) foundation (Saturn) of your life stops being hidden. Material that was collecting dust (and power) in your unconscious (Pisces) is suddenly visible (Saturn). Surprise, bitch! Time to take a look.

Okay. Now, what happens when you’re confronted with your very own subconscious (Pisces) scaffolding (Saturn)? Well, two options: 

(1) You lose perspective and collapse the transformation process before it has time to do its thing, dissolving your sense of self (Pisces) and hardening around rigid beliefs (Saturn) to bring yourself back to a superficial sense of safety, making your life temporarily more stable and comfy but ten million times harder to confront your psychological foundation at the next opportunity.

(2) You stay focused on the big picture and face your fears, dissolving the toxic beliefs you were unconsciously building your life on (Pisces) and reforming your identity (Saturn) into something real and true, making your life temporarily more lonely and difficult but ten million times easier to relate to yourself and others forever and ever amen.

“Uh wtf who would pick option one?” You, me, anyone allowing themselves to actually feel the crippling existential dread of having to face the unknown (Pisces) or anyone who can’t bear the thought of looking critically at their inherited beliefs (Saturn). It’s not an opportunity for the faint of heart. Or for anyone who doesn’t have, at the very least, one friend. And not some moralizing “forgiveness heals all wounds hang in there” type of friend - I’m talking some real ass, truth staring ass, love you anyways bitch.

So, why did I return from the underworld to tell you this shit now? Because Saturn is only halfway through it’s uncomfortable stay on the Pisces commune. Listen - if you’re starting to feel crazy, like (1) “I swear some shit must be up I just cannot catch a break from feeling like living shit” and (2) “why does the same shit continue to happen to me over and over again like fuck I thought I got over this shit in 1933” it’s because (1) you’re being called to transform and transformation is an active process time to stop being dragged around use you legs and (2) part of this particular transformation process is acknowledging that you did not leave any shit in 1933 and you’ve actually been dragging that ugly shit around in your unconscious and it’s secretly been controlling every decision you’ve made since then. Sorry.

“Ugh, can I just close my eyes and open them when this whack ass transit is over?” Sure. They’re your eyes, babe. But, just between you and me, why would you want to do that? This is a wonderfully unique time to face the truth (Saturn) and give yourself compassion and grace (Pisces), so that you can, oh, I don’t know, turn this car around before you and your unconscious Thelma and Louise yourselves. For a limited time only - the lights are on! There is no better time to look at this shit. The cosmic support is here. Right now. Let these lunar lovelies carry you through. 

The key to navigating this transit successfully (and consciously), is to pay attention to what you’re dissolving, and what you’re hardening around. Be suspicious about the shit you take for granted emotionally - investigate that foundation - ask yourself: Where did this shit even come from? Is this the psychological foundation I want to perpetuate? Don’t keep trying to wrap yourself back up in that shed skin, babies, it’s not a good look. Embrace the rawness.

The energies are active, the pressure is there, but if you open yourself to working with the energy of the times instead of just closing your eyes and hoping for the best, you can completely transform your life over the next 12 months. No joke. No exaggeration.

Until we meet again, bitches, happy charting.

XO BULLSHIT FREE ASTROLOGY 

[petalsandantlers]

Here’s a really tooth rootingly sweet prompt(involving alive Jily, where Harry shows them his patronus and it makes James swell with pride):

“expecto patronum!”

*sniff* “Harry.. I uh.. son..

“Dad? Are you.. do you not like it?”

Hey anon! Thank you so much for the prompt! Hope you enjoy xx ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The summer evening was warm, golden light spilling through the windows of Potter Manor. Harry stood in the center of the room, his wand gripped tightly in his hand, an odd, yet not unfamiliar, mix of excitement and nerves bubbling in his chest.

“Alright, Harry,” James said, leaning casually against the doorway with his arms crossed. His hazel eyes sparkled mischievously, but there was a poorly concealed layer of anticipation evident in the lines of his face. “Let’s see what you’ve got. Remember—clear intent. Confidence is key.”

Lily perched on the edge of the sofa, her smile encouraging but soft. “No pressure, darling,” she said. “Just let it come naturally.”

Harry nodded, exhaling slowly. He closed his eyes for a moment, summoning a memory—a feeling—so bright and warm it seemed to leave his insides gooey. Then he raised his wand.

“Expecto Patronum!” he called out, his voice steady and strong.

From the tip of his wand, a silvery wisp burst forth and quickly solidified, taking the unmistakable form of a stag. It stood tall and proud, its antlers gleaming like moonlight, and its luminous hooves made no sound as it took a few graceful steps around the room. The stag paused to nuzzle Harry’s shoulder before turning its head inquisitively towards Lily and James.

Harry lowered his wand, looking back at his parents, his grin almost sheepish. “So… what do you think?”

For a moment, James just stood there, staring at the glowing creature before him. His arms dropped to his sides, and his face underwent a series of emotions: pride, surprise, and something Harry couldn’t quite place. Then James sniffed loudly and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Harry…” His voice wavered, and he cleared his throat roughly. “I… That’s… Merlin, son, it's…”

Harry brow creased slightly, the smile faltering. “Dad? Are you okay? Do you…not like it?” He glanced at the stag, confused, which stood calmly beside him, its silver gaze fixed on James.

James let out a watery chuckle, shaking his head. “Not like it? Are you mental? It’s bloody brilliant.” His voice cracked slightly as he stepped closer, looking at the Patronus like it was the most extraordinary thing he’d ever seen. “You’ve got Prongs,” he said, gesturing toward the stag with a trembling hand. “That’s me, Harry. That’s… That’s us.”

Lily rose from the sofa and came to stand beside him, resting a hand gently on his arm. She was smiling too, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “It’s beautiful,” she said softly, her gaze shifting between Harry and the stag. “You’ve done something truly special, sweetheart.”

Harry blinked, his heart swelling as the realization dawned on him. His Patronus wasn’t just a stag—it was his father’s Animagus form, the same shape that had guided him through countless stories growing up. It was the male counterpart to his mother's doe. A physical manifestation of their bond as a family.

“I didn’t even think about it,” Harry said, his voice quieter now. “I just… I thought of you and Mum, and the Burrow, and all of us together.”

James laughed, pulling Harry into a tight hug before he could say more. “You’ve got no idea how proud I am of you,” he said, his voice muffled. “You’re incredible, kid. Absolutely incredible.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Harry mumbled, his cheeks warm as he returned the embrace. “It’s not that big a deal…”

James pulled back, his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “Not a big deal? Are you kidding? Lily, tell him. This is a huge deal!”

Lily chuckled lightly, shaking her head. “I think he knows, James.”

The Patronus faded into wisps of silver light, but the glow in the room didn’t dim. It stayed there, between the three of them, as bright and unshakable as the love that tied them together. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Read on AO3

[doffys-favourite-slut]

PossessiveDom!Doflamingo x Subordinate!Reader Smut

[Chapter 1] [Chapter 2] [Chapter3] [Chapter 4]

Hello everyone, and welcome to my very first post here! I have a passion for smut, so please enjoy! I'm going to need to separate this into chapters; I will note the chapters with smut, but this chapter doesn't have it.

Doffy is a very guilty pleasure of mine, so I had a bit of fun with this story.

☣️WARNINGS: NSFW, MDNI, eventual smut, violence

[Chapter 1]

~~~~~~~~~~

"Fufufu~ What do we have here?" Doffy laughed deviously, staring at you, as you were tied to a chair in the empty, dark basement of his castle.

"He-hello..." you said nervously, unable to make eye contact.

"Don't be shy, my dear." He approached you slowly, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the basement. As he got closer, you could see his piercing red sunglasses that contrasted vividly with his blond hair.

"Name's Y/N, I presume? Don't worry, I won't let you rot down here. No, no. I have better use for you." Doffy chuckled, his voice clear and hoarse as it carried in the emptiness.

"You see, I have a little game in mind, one that involves you, some potions, and a good dose of the power of the devil fruits... and, well, let's just say that you could find yourself in a fairly interesting situation." He grinned, his teeth gleaming. "Think of it as an adventure. Mind you, you have to stay strong and play along if you want to make it out of here in one piece. Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" He traced a finger along your chin, making you shiver at the cold touch.

Your breath hitched at his touch "Y-yes, Master..."

"Oh, I like that. A submissive one, hmm? Very well, then. Let's get started, shall we?"��Doflamingo released your chin and snapped his fingers. A tall figure appeared from the shadows. It was a man with a white and blue coat and a twisted grin. "Trebol, this is our new plaything," he said, gesturing to the gooey man. "Make sure to take her upstairs and prepare her for the experiment. We wouldn't want her to escape, now, would we?" He chuckled, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "Now, off you go, my dear," Doffy said, pushing you on your back to make you fall into Trebol's waiting arms. "I'll be watching you closely, so don't disappoint." He winked and turned back, leaving you in the hands of his staff officer.

"Yes, Master..." you breathed nervously, your body shaking.

"Come along, then," Trebol said in a rattling voice, his grip tight on your body. "We've got work to do, and Doffy doesn't like to wait." Trebol picked you up and carried you up the stairs, his goo encasing you.

As you ascended, Doflamingo chuckled in the background, the sound almost maniacal. "Ah, it's superb how easily she fell into place," he mused aloud. "We'll see how far she'll go in the end. Who knows, maybe she'll even enjoy it." He snapped his fingers once more, and a big vial of green liquid appeared in his hand. "That's the potion I'll use on her. A delightful blend to make her... obedient." He laughed, and the echoes of his voice followed you all the way up to the laboratory.

Your heart races, your breath shallow "Y-yes, Master..." you muster.

"You'll get used to it, don't worry," Trebol said to you.

The laboratory came into view, and you could see several vials and beakers on the table, the stench of chemicals filling the room. "Now, let's get started," he grunted as he placed you on the table, your body becoming encased in Doffy's thread.

A beaker filled with the same green liquid Doffy had was brought to your lips. "Drink up, my dear. It's for your own good," Trebol encouraged, pouring the contents down your throat.

After a few moments, as the potion took effect, you felt a wave of submission wash over you, making it harder to resist. "There we go. Much better. Now, let's see how we can use your body for Doffy's amusement." The gooey man chuckled darkly as he started preparing the next steps in Doflamingo's little game.

Your heart was still racing as you drank the mysterious liquid. It had a pleasant sweet taste to it. You eagerly gulped it down, the liquid seeping from your lips.

As the potion continued to work, you felt yourself becoming more submissive and eager to please. Trebol started by taking random samples from your body, causing you to flinch at the pricks of the needles yet finding your arousal increasing. The slimey man smirked, pleased with the outcome.

"Alright, now to add the icing on the cake," Trebol said, picking up a vial containing a viscous red liquid. "We'll mix this devil fruit juice with the concoction Doffy came up with. This should give Doffy exactly what he wants from you."

With a practiced hand, he injected it into your body, and you felt a sparkle of power stir inside of you. Trebol continued, drawing a line of symbols on your skin, each one triggering a surge of energy to course through your veins. "And we're done," he declared, admiring his work.

"Get ready, Y/N. Doffy's going to want to see his new toy in action." Doflamingo released the strings that bound you, and you found yourself standing unsteadily, eager to fulfill your new role as Doflamingo's submissive plaything.

Your eyes looked over nervously at Doflamingo, unsure of what's going to happen next what... "What kind of devil fruit did you give me...?" you whimpered out.

Doflamingo appeared in the doorway, his grin as wide as ever. "Ah, my dear, it's a unique one. A nearly-extinct type that doesn't affect your body, but rather, allows you to manipulate others. For now, you can only control those weak-willed, but don't worry, it'll grow stronger with time," Doflamingo explained, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "A perfect match for your new... entertainment career," he chuckled, his voice echoing in the lab. "Now, let's see how well you can perform, shall we?" With that, he walked into the lab, beckoning for you to follow him. "I have a little surprise waiting for you. A perfect target for your newfound abilities," he teased, eager to see the results of his twisted experiment.

"Young Master.... May I please be by your side?" you nervously asked the Heavenly Demon.

"As always, my dear," Doflamingo said, intertwining his fingers with yours, a satisfied smirk on his face. "But remember, you exist to serve me, and your powers should reflect that loyalty. The weak will be at your beck and call, while the strong will only bend for me. Now, let's see if you can learn your place." With a firm squeeze of your hand, he led you to your first test - to show how well you've adapted to your role as his submissive servant.

You took ahold of Doffy's hand. Taking a deep, shaky breath, "Is it alright if I ask you something, Young Master?" you asked

"What's on your mind, Y/N?" Doflamingo asked, glancing at you with curiosity.

"What do you want me to call you and refer to you as? Do you like Master, or is Doffy okay?" you mustered out, your voice quivering.

"Master is lovely, but Doffy works just as well," he chuckled, squeezing your hand. "Whichever makes you feel more submissive. After all, it's all about thrills and emotions, wouldn't you agree?" With a wink, he led you towards the chamber where your first "entertainment" would take place.

"Which makes you feel better for me to say? I only want the best for Master," you said, the serum working, coursing through your veins.

"Master is certainly the most... regal choice. It fits your submissive role the best," Doffy said with a wicked grin. "But remember, it's all a game. And as long as you're playing it to the best of your ability, I'll find you irresistible." He smirked and opened the door to the chamber, the first of your loyal subjects waiting for you within. The perfect pawns in Doflamingo's twisted game, ready for you to test your newfound powers.

Irresistible? The words echoed in my head. "What do you want me to do with these subjects, Master," you questioned as the two of you reached the chamber with the test subjects.

"You're going to show them who's in control. I want you to bend their wills to your desires," Doflamingo said, pushing the door open. "Take their freedom, and in return, they'll serve you and me with blind obedience. Easy, isn't it? Now, Y/N, put on a show for me. Prove that you're worthy of your new role," he said, his voice dripping with amusement. "And should you falter, well, don't worry. Trebol and I will make sure to give you a refresher." With that, Doflamingo stepped aside, ready to watch as you dominated your first subjects in a display of power that he alone could unleash.

You stammered into the chamber, still holding Doffy's hand. "Yes, Master, but I... I don't know how," you nervously admitted.

Without further hesitation, Doflamingo gave a sharp nod toward Trebol, who stepped forward with a menacing grin. "Don't worry, we'll make it a lesson you won't forget," he said. He gently held your hand, guiding the symbols drawn on your skin back into motion. A surge of power flowed throughout your body as the symbols glowed with newfound energy. "Now," Trebol instructed, "Focus on the weakest one in the room. Draw a line from your body to them, and your power will flow through it."

You could feel your control seeping from your fingertips, reaching for the first subject. The line between you and the weak-willed man glowed, a physical manifestation of your influence. "Try to make him speak, Y/N," Doflamingo encouraged you, his eyes shining with anticipation.

"Y-yes Master..." You do your best to feel your energy flow through the imaginary string that connected you with the first subject. Communicating through the string, you command him to declare Doffy as the greatest emperor of Dressrosa. As your power and energy reached out to the weak-willed subject, he stiffened, and his eyes met yours. The line between you grew brighter with each passing moment.

"Master... Doffy... is... the greatest... Emperor of... all of Dressrosa..." he muttered, his voice shaky yet obedient.

"Excellent, Y/N!" Doflamingo praised you, clapping his hands together. "You're catching on quickly, it seems. Now, see if you can make him demonstrate his obedience further."

The subject's eyes wandered to the floor, his body tense and ready to take further commands. The string between you and him, a symbol of your newfound dominance, pulsated in time with your heartbeat. He bowed deeply, his forehead touching the floor. "I am yours, Master Doffy, through my mistress Y/N. I am here to serve you both with my whole being," he declared, his voice rough from the forced submission.

Doflamingo's smile grew wider, his satisfaction evident. "Bravo, Y/N," he praised you. "You're off to a great start. Now, show the others that they too will bow before us. We'll see just how far your power can stretch."

With the taste of control and the approval of your master, you felt emboldened. The thread between you and the weak-willed continued to glow, and you focused on the next subject. Slowly, you began to make them submit as well, each one falling under your influence.

Doflamingo watched with a content expression, relishing in the sight of his new toy in action. You were proving yourself capable of entertaining the strong and weak alike, your role as his submissive servant and his tool of control solidifying by the moment.

Where your newfound powers would take you, only time would tell. But one thing was certain, the chamber echoed with your newfound dominance, and beneath it, the shaky breaths of the defeated, their wills now yours to command.

As your will swept over the subjects, the air in the chamber changed, heavy with the tension of pending violence. "Hear me, the weak and the lowly," you commanded, your voice echoing within the room. "Prove your loyalty with your strength. Only the strongest among you shall join as my master's loyal subjects. The rest shall perish, offering their lives as a sacrifice to their new ruler, Lord Doflamingo."

Your hands moved, drawing forth the symbols marked upon your skin. The lines of power extended from your body, binding your subjects to your command. The symbols shimmered, bathing the room in their luminous glow as the subjects' eyes hardened with determination.

As they turned on one another, their cries and groans of battle echoed through the chamber. Doflamingo stood by, his face a mask of delighted anticipation, as you manipulated the course of the fight. This was your master's twisted game, and you had become an essential part of it.

By forcing these subjects to shed blood in pursuit of loyalty, you deepened the bonds of devotion. The victors would owe their very existence to you, while the losers offered up their lives in the name of Doflamingo's greatness. You reveled in your newfound control, serving your master with absolute devotion, a pawn in his grand, twisted chess game.

As your master watched you orchestrate the bloody battle, his gaze never faltering, Doflamingo smiled, proud of his new acquisition. "You've shown quite the dedication, Y/N" he praised, the sound of combat and grunts of effort still lingering in the air. "You're a quick study, and your zealousness is quite commendable."

He approached you, his hand stroking your exposed neck, tracing a line from your collarbone to your heart. "And with this, you've proved your submission to me. The game has only just begun, so let us continue this dance of dominance and submission." Doflamingo leaned in, whispering into your ear: "Your loyalty has already earned you my favor, Y/N, and you'll find that in my world, that's enough to guarantee you a place at my side for as long as you promise to serve."

Doffy's touch sent a tinge of arousal down your spine, gently gnawing at my mind. Feeling his breath hot on your neck and ear, goosebumps ran across your skin. "Thank you, Master," you breathed. Arousal stirred between your legs.

With those words of encouragement, he turned, heading back towards the exit. The future was a twisted, promising path for you, a journey that began in a dark basement and had no bounds to its potential. As your master's devout servant, your role had been cast, and the time had come for you to step fully into it.

The world of One Piece now had a powerful new player, a submissive subject to Doflamingo, ready to bend the wills of whomever crossed your path in the name of the most enigmatic villain in the series.

Doflamingo easily read the desire that flickered in your eyes. He kept you firmly in his gaze, his voice hushed. "Let us see who emerges from this brutal contest you've enacted. It'll be a fine testament to your influence, one I can't wait to witness."

As the battle waned, leaving behind a winner and a trail of the defeated, Doflamingo's attention returned to you. His hand trailed down your arm, sending shivers through your body at his touch. "I believe you've earned a reward, for your enthusiastic efforts today," he said, his voice dripping with promise.

With his other hand, he gently turned your face to his, your eyes growing wide in anticipation. Doflamingo leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a chaste kiss. "Y/N, as your master, I claim you," he whispered as he pulled back.

"Of course, Master. Anything for you," you told Doffy, your breath heavy.

An innocent first kiss, but it marked the beginning of your submission to him on a more intimate level. The bond between you and Doflamingo had already shifted, this time forever sealing your allegiance to him in every sense of the word. Your journey had crossed a new threshold as your master's servant, and with Doflamingo's claim now etched in your existence, you eagerly looked forward to what lay in store. This was the path you'd chosen, and in Doflamingo's arms, you were poised to become a formidable force in this twisted world you two will soon create.

"That's the mindset I love to hear from you, my dear," Doflamingo replied with a gentle smile. "Now, let us celebrate our new union in the proper way. Trebol, arrange a feast for us, one befitting our newfound triumphs."

As his slimey assistant moved to carry out the order, Doflamingo guided you out of the basement and back into the heart of his stronghold. The world raced by as he led you through the opulent halls. A mischievous glint in his eye, he leaned in, nuzzling your hair. "Tonight, we'll toast to our successful partnership, Y/N, and chart the course for our future exploits."

The grand feast awaited in an ornate chamber, the scents of exotic dishes wafting through the air. Doflamingo's hand found its way to the small of your back as he seated you beside him.

The darkness of your kidnapping was now a distant memory, replaced by the vivid reality of your new life. As you sat before Doflamingo, a wicked grin spreading across his lips, the first course was served, signaling the start of an unforgettable night. The chef, one of Doflamingo's unyielding subjects, had used exotic ingredients, cooked with the passion that fueled your master's empire.

As the night unfolded, the bond between you and Doflamingo deepened. Wine flowed freely, the candles flickered, and the air hummed with the secrets of a dark empire. You, the newest pawn on its chessboard, had begun your journey, a commitment to servitude that promised a twisted, wondrous adventure.

~~~~~~~~

Your body draped over Doflamingo, your obedience never wavering. Your only desire being to serve under the Young Master, the serum taking full effect.

As your body lay comfortably against Doflamingo's, the night's festivities had long since faded. The room was dimly lit, the flicker of a dying fire the only illumination in the large bedroom.

Doflamingo, content with your willing submission, trailed his fingers through your hair, his grip firm and possessive. "Rest easy, Y/N," he murmured softly, his voice a lullaby. "You've earned your reprieve from the struggles of the day, and in my care, you'll find solace." He cupped your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek. "Trust in me, and together, we'll shape this world to our whims, breaking the wills of the weak and bending them to our will. As we sleep, the stars above can only dream of the schemes that brew within our minds."

Drifting off to sleep, you snuggled closer to Doflamingo, your dreams filled with the promise of a future forged under your Master's guidance. The journey ahead had only just begun, and with the enigmatic Doflamingo as your anchor, you looked forward to the twisted turns and unforeseen revelations that the world would unveil. Your loyalty was unwavering, your devotion absolute, and the intricate dance of dominance and submission with your master had only just begun.

*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N: Thank you everybody for reading! Please let me know your thoughts and if you'd like to continue reading to the next chapter 💝

[moonstruckme]

Hey love!

Was wondering if you could write a poly!maurader x fem!reader fic where (boys being boys) they had a bet who could go longer without sex and about a week reader decided to tease them a lil bit where she would flirt or like bend over to pick up smtg.

Thanks for requesting lovely!

cw: mature themes

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

It’s so boy of them to discount you like this. Like, the bet had been funny at first, each of your boyfriends doing whatever they could to put the others in hot and heavy situations with you and each other, but after you and Sirius had gotten locked in a closet for the better part of an afternoon, they’d decided to take things down a notch. And as far as you’re concerned, that was when the fun part came to an end. 

The thing is, they’re guys. While they’re having their little stint of celibacy, they can at least still get themselves off. Multiple times a day, if they feel like it. It’s not that easy for you. So for you to not even have been involved in the bet, and yet be the one feeling its consequences most acutely…well, it’s beginning to grate on your nerves.

So you decide to make it fun again. 

“Oh, shit.” You say, getting James’ attention from where he’s going through the closet, trying to find a pair of pants to wear. “I dropped my wand under the bed.” 

He moves towards you. “I’ll get it for you, lovie.” 

“No, no, that’s alright.” You say, getting down on your hands and knees. “I’ve got it.” 

James falls silent as you arch your back under the pretense of reaching under the bed, letting your short skirt slip up to show the pretty, barely-there panties you’d picked out this morning. You linger for a bit longer than necessary, letting James take in the view from where he stands across from the bed. 

“Got it.” You emerge with the wand, sitting back on your legs and turning to James with a smile. 

His mouth is slightly open. He blinks, eyes dazed and pupils blown behind his lenses. “That’s, uh…” He blinks a few more times, faster. “That’s great, sweetheart. Glad you found it.” 

♡ ♡ ♡

“Gods.” Sirius nearly chokes when he sees you in the kitchen. “You’re looking nice today, angel.” 

You almost roll your eyes. You’re only wearing a tank top and underwear, but apparently that’s all it takes when your boyfriend’s been so long without any of you. Instead, you plaster on a coy smile.

“Thanks,” you say, as though you hadn’t noticed. “You look nice, too.” 

Sirius is making eyes at you as he leans his elbows on the counter. Like you’re the one who needs to worry. “Whatcha making, sweet thing?”

“Chocolate mousse. I’m just working on melting the chocolate right now.” You dip your forefinger into the warm, gooey liquid, bringing it to your mouth and sucking the chocolate off. You keep your eyes on Sirius’, so you can see the exact moment when his darken. “Mmm, want to try?” 

Sirius swallows. “Huh?”

You don’t bother looking innocuous, letting your eyes go droopy and suggestive in the way you know how. “I said, do you want some?” 

He’s silent for so long you think he might ask you to repeat yourself again, but then he clears his throat and stammers, “Uh, no—no thanks, doll. I’m good.” 

You pout. “It’s really good, though. Here, have a taste.” You cross the few steps between you and kiss him. 

Sirius takes a second to kiss you back, but when he does it’s so wanting that you don’t even have to be sneaky about winding one of your hands into his hair while using the other to bring his to your ass. He squeezes, and you moan into his mouth, grinding your hips into his just slightly. 

Sirius gasps, breaking away. He takes one step back, then another, putting distance between you as he tries to blink the glaze from his eyes. “Minx,” he whispers accusingly, and flees the kitchen. 

♡ ♡ ♡

“Thanks, baby.” You bat your eyelashes up at Remus as he brings you a glass of water from the kitchen. 

He lets out a low chuckle. “I know what you’re doing.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about,” you hum. 

Remus gives you a deadpan look, but there’s a glint of amusement in his amber eyes. “Earlier this morning, I went into our bedroom to find James, pantsless, with a hard-on.” It takes every ounce of control you have not to grin, but Remus quirks a brow like you have anyway. “And then a little while ago, Sirius came running out of the kitchen like something was chasing him, and he could barely speak. You didn’t have anything to do with that, dovey?” 

You let your eyes go wide and innocent as you shake your head. “Maybe they’re just getting sick of your competition.” 

“Mm, unlikely,” Remus hums, and his surety of his own willpower only worsens your determination to make him falter. “But if that’s the story you want to stick with, that’s fine.” 

You frown at him, the glass of water slippery with condensation in your palm. “Well, I—oh, damn!” you tip the glass of water into Remus’ lap, soaking his pants. He freezes, gasping at the cold. “I’m so sorry, honey. Here, let me help.” Luckily for you, you’d (completely coincidentally, of course) left a tea towel nearby earlier. You take it, blotting at Remus’ crotch with touches that start urgent but become lingering as you go on. After a minute, there’s really nothing left to sop up, and Remus hands are laid flat on the couch, every inch of him tense as you dab at his bulge with slow, tantalizing touches. 

When he speaks, his voice is low, gravelly. “You’re a lot more conniving than we give you credit for, you know that?”

You let your lips curl into a smile, leaving your hand to rest on his crotch. “I know.” 

Remus tips his head back, letting his eyes slip closed as he takes a slow, deep breath. “Fuck it.” 

You blink. “Huh?”

In the next second, Remus is gripping your hips and hoisting you up against him, your chest pressed to his. You inhale sharply as he stands, wrapping your legs around his waist, and he’s kissing at your throat, master of multitasking while he carries you into the bedroom. 

He nips at your jaw, and you giggle deliriously. “I won?” you ask, hardly believing it. Of all your boyfriends, you thought Remus had the least chance of breaking down before the others. 

His chuckle reverberates through you, and warmth flares in your core in response. “Sure you did, sweetheart. Though I think by the time we’re done here, who exactly won will be a bit more debatable.”

[spookypartycrit]

okay now why are we throwing around baseless accusations now besties?

I have numerous issues with whomever made those posts that have zero evidence and are just trying to start needless drama. (no need for vague posting, their name was gooey eggyolk for those unaware)

One: the users involved in the “grooming” post have all made it very clear that they are all adults. So no need for the “minor alarms”, there are no minors to be found.

Two: They had zero evidence of such behavior being performed. At worst, there was *some* light sexual jokes being thrown around in public posts, which was all in good fun.

Three: Grooming accusations are serious. No one should be throwing them around unless they have solid evidence. And like you said, they didnt.

Four: Running away when someone even dares challenge you? When someone dares to ask if the so called “sources” you have are trustworthy or even exist? Cowardly behavior.

Five: Im not even certain that they have “contacts”. That could be fabricated too.

Six: Very suspicious that the same person making these call out posts are also in dddne user’s likes. I dont usually like searching through likes for that kind of dirt because i know people can just like shit without thinking but the fact that the account was made like today makes me think foul play…

Seven: Theories on why this is happening. Could it be that this person is trying to “end pc rpf once and for all” by going after the “big names” in our community? If so, dude, I promise Nick isnt going to suck your dick for ending people shipping him with his pals. I promise you this much.

Could it be just a random seeking drama in a community for no apparent reason? possibly. its a non zero chance. but the fact that this profile was made today and was already causing problems leads me to believe theyve been “gathering evidence” before…

Regardless, I hope this serves as a lesson to everyone that this (claims made without evidence) is what unnecessary drama is. Again, it is important to call out people for bad behavior, but only if you can provide evidence for that bad behavior. Otherwise, you get a 20 minute coke rant from yours truly.

(Idk where I was going with that conclusion truly it is 3am here so idk if thats a coherent paragraph.)

-💚

dude i regret going on break cause the wierdiest shit has been happening and i feel like i shoulda already been on it. theres been alot of the one thing i cant stand. vaguing

i hate vaguing with every fiber of my ass, and i got a pretty big ass,

but seriously all ive been seeing from the corner of my eye are people vaguely going "somebody here and or alot of people are freaks and wierdos!" and im like "okay can i get some proof" and then i get a whole lot of avoidance, and exuses. wtf am i supposed to do with that.

like with the first dude. it was alot of accusations of "sources" without a single screenshot of proof. and even some of the claims i did know i know werent true, cause i looked with my eyes and didnt see anything of what they were saying. and the claims i couldent varify? no proof at all. the source hidden right between the accusers asscheeks.

even when my anons tell me stuff i usually go investigating for proof [tho i trust my anons to point me in a right direction] and after doing some investigating myself on all these recent accusation i couldent find jack shit, and it so annoying, now you got people running around on here talking about "i know something you all dont." and its like okay? care to share a screenshot with the class? care to inform us of what you found with evidence i can take a look at?

its fear mongering at best and a intentional pysop at worst. random ass accts coming in here claiming to know things. and act like we are all fucking stupid for "not putting the pieces together" no nimrod idk what your saying and you refuse to elbaorate.

and everyone i try to dm? oh dms are off. or i get ignored or thier accts disappers into dust the secoond i click on it.

if nobody wants to sit down and give me actual proof that i can look at then wtf are we doing. quit being fake demons and just post what you know.

[foxymoxynoona]

So...did we ever actually get a drabble with Jungkook getting to hold Kai for the first time after he's born? 🥺 the lil' boy who's made up of him and the woman he's loved for decades 🥺

I got carried away 😅

Story: Amended Characters: Isabella & Jungkook Length: 7,322 CW: Birthing scene with references to cutting cords and placentas and stitches, health complications at birth, stress, fluffy fluff

“There’s evidence of meconium in the amniotic fluid,” were not the first words Jungkook had expected to hear the seconds before his son’s head began to emerge from between the legs of his wife. It was surreal, what he witnessed, it had seemed like an impossible thing –like a cartoon, not something women actually went through. But Isabella was real, really going through this, really clenching her fists against her chest as she curled forward and pushed with everything in her, his tough strong girl who had agreed to go through all of this again so they could do it together. She had known what this was like. He kinda did but, he was learning in the moment, not really. 

Watching Isabella go through this pain and being unable to fix it was a guilt second only to knowing the pain he had caused for her when they were younger. Well, he had sort of caused this too… but she had asked him to! Very sexily! How was he supposed to have resisted sex and getting to have a baby with her! No mortal man could resist that.

“Head is out,” the doctor called and Jungkook realized he was both present and not. They had suggested he watch. He would never be able to unsee what he was seeing now, but it was trippy –not just the baby’s head, covered in gooey gunk and some kind of white… cheese looking stuff??-- but this whole image, this whole experience.

“What does that mean, meconium?” he belatedly asked as the nurses encouraged Isabella to wait, not to push, as they quickly wiped off the baby’s face and sucked snarfy sounding stuff out of the nose and mouth. A head of hair he hadn’t expected stuck out at odd angles as the baby’s mouth opened and closed in protest, eyes firmly shut in what looked more like anger as the injustice of this introduction to the world.

Do they look like me? he wondered, feeling like the room had gone still despite the rapid actions of the doctor and nurses.

Isabella yanked him out of it, demanding, “Do you see the baby? How’s it look? Is everything ok?”

“The meconium,” he repeated, not sure someone had answered.

“Don’t worry about that right now,” one of the nurses said. “It may mean nothing, we just want to get Baby really clean to keep it out of their airway.”

“What if it’s–”

Jungkook was interrupted by the doctor calling, “Ok let’s get this baby clear–” The baby’s cry interrupted him, like it was say yeah get a fucking move on here, I’m a head sticking out of a vagina!

Jungkook grabbed Isabella’s hand, wanting to be helpful and involved somehow but feeling absolutely unnecessarily. For most of labor Isabella had not wanted to be touched. It had all moved so much faster than he’d expected. It wasn’t like he could contribute much of anything as Isabella curled forward, face sweaty and red and everything in her clenched as she expelled a tiny human from her body.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” he rushed –not quite what he’d meant to say, but absolute admiration for her loosened the words.

“The fuck?” she laughed. “Doctor this man is harassing me.” Her breath was panted, her words a cheat as she stole a break

Maybe those were the first words their child heard from their mother, if the baby could hear anything over the crying.

“One more push, one more push, you’re almost done!” the nurses chanted and Jungkook saw with amazement that a baby from the hips up had now emerged. He couldn’t process that it was real, that this was really happening, that Isabella had not just grown a big belly and that there really had been a tiny person in there all along. Their tiny person.

“I love you,” he said to her, to the baby, to both of them. “You’re so cool, Isabella.” He had the sudden need to rush out as many good things as he could, so the baby would be born surrounded by words of love and kindness. He assumed Isabella had showered Ezra and Lily with love at their births but he knew their “fathers” had not, not the way he did now for them, not the way he would for this baby.

He had wanted so badly for everything with this baby to be different and now he had contributed basically nothing to Isabella’s labor. She hadn’t wanted the massages or the kisses, she hadn’t found it amusing that he’d driven her to the hospital in his cop car with the siren on, and it had all moved too quickly for him to walk her up or down the hall with their arms linked and his words of devotion carrying her through her contractions. 

They’d arrived at the hospital approximately eighteen minutes ago and here she was pushing out the baby.

This wasn’t what he’d planned. He wanted to be better than Landon and Stig.

“I love you, baby, you’re amazing,” he said. Isabella grabbed his hand and squeezed it this time with her push –a short one, replaced with a stunned, open face and a gasp. OUt of the corner of his eye, Jungkook saw the baby suddenly slide down, followed by a rush of fluid and the cheers of the medical staff.

“It’s out!” Isabella cried.

“He’s been screaming, didn’t you hear him Mama?” one of the nurses joked. 

“Dad, are you going to cut the cord?”

“A boy,” Jungkook cried over his son’s cries, hands itching to grab him and comfort him. He glanced at Isabella to see if that was ok, that they’d had a boy. She had insisted so many times she didn’t care either way but… but a son, a boy might be like him… would Ezra be ok with a brother…? 

Isabella was reaching forward, eyes glassy as she called, “Give him here.”

“One second mama, we want to make sure we got his mouth cleared–”

“Does it look like he aspirated–”

“I see some in the mouth but–”

“Dad, you cutting this cord?” the doctor called, stretching an intestinal-looking thing as a nurse held out a pair of scissors. Jungkook took them in a stupor. He didn’t really want to do this thing, it felt wrong to cut a body party, a piece of Isabella and their baby, but in the moment he was too overwhelmed to remember he’d meant to say no. He’d never forget the way the cutting felt in his hand and quickly thrust the scissors back, attention turning towards the baby who was now being dried and looked over, a stethoscope pressed to his chest as his little legs kicked and his hands reaching for a parent who was already failing him.

Jungkook didn’t realize he’d put his hand on Isabella’s head until she grabbed his wrist, her other arm hanging in the air as she called, “What’s wrong? What’s going on? Jungkook, I can’t see–”

“They’re looking at him and listening to his chest,” Jungkook said. Isabella’s panic made his rise. Was something really wrong?

“Hey, what’s going on?” he demanded, leaving her side and striding over to the rotisserie-chicken-heating looking thing the baby was on now. He didn’t know the doctor who had suddenly appeared from nowhere in all the chaos.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Gardner,” she said, “I’m the pediatric specialist here.” She held her finger up and listened again to the baby’s chest, though he’d stopped screaming. It was more of a gentle, plaintive cry now, as if he was giving up on life–

Or comforted by Jungkook’s sudden near voice.

Jungkook shifted the active part of his brain away from the doctor and to the baby –his baby– who needed him.

“Hey, hey little guy,” he cooed, leaning down and reaching right out to stroke a little chubby cheek. He got goosebumps, saying that to his son, to a real baby that was his. The baby’s head turned, wobbly, as if trying to press against his finger. “It’s ok. It’s ok you’re just born now, and your mama is waiting to hold you close.”

The pediatric doctor was rattling things off –a weight, a height, an APGAR score.

“I hear a slight crackle,” she told the nurse writing things down. “Breathing is slightly elevated but hard to say whether that’ll linger. Let’s check his vocal cords…”

“Excuse me, Dad. You can hold his hand but I need his head,” a nurse said, nudging him out of the way to first slide on a tiny yellow hat and then hold the infant’s head steady. Jungkook felt a jolt of alarm as the doctor suddenly slid a massive camera light clamp tool thing into the tiny little mouth. The baby didn’t seem more upset by this than he already was, didn’t even flail about it, though a nurse held his legs still anyway.

“Wait, what’s going on? Is this really necessary?” Jungkook demanded, worried he was already failing his son. He needed to understand what they were doing before they just did things! 

“Koo?” Isabella called. “Someone tell me what’s happening!”

“Hands and feet are still bluish but may be pinking up,” the nurse holding the legs said.

The doctor nodded and removed the tool –which Jungkook saw now was just a light, not even as big as his panic had made him think. The baby screamed louder and he felt a surge of anger that no one was answering their questions.

“Excuse me,” he said, not as politely as he intended, and promptly scooped his baby up right from beneath the doctors. There was so little weight to the body as Jungkook’s hands lifted, his skin warm and oddly dry-feeling but with a softness to it he couldn’t describe. Jungkook didn’t know what he had expected, but not for the this newborn to feel like such a baby. He was only minutes old, how did he feel so real?

Unphased, the doctor touched Jungkook’s arm and cooed at the baby, “Good good. I’m sorry, little sunshine, we just have to make sure you’re ok.”

The baby continued to cry. He was so small! And yet, not quite as small as Jungkook had expected. Sorah had been miniscule, and Amelia just about. This baby felt bigger than Sian and Parker and Sam had been, but maybe he just didn’t remember? Jungkook tucked the baby down into the crook of his arm, nestled against his chest, and took it all back; suddenly the baby felt tiny! Impossibly small! He felt like his arms were too big and awkward despite ample experience holding even very fresh babies. Many times! Not quite as fresh as this one. 

He was moving on fumes now as he bounced and hummed and tried to believe this was real.

“It’s ok, you’re ok, shhhh, I’ve got you.”

“Jungkook? What’s going on?”

“We can go to mom,” the doctor said, touching Jungkook’s arm. She had a smile on her face which soothed Jungkook because it had to mean nothing was badly wrong, though he couldn’t quite fight off the resentment that this doctor had already upset his baby and delayed his comfort and not even answered his questions.

He turned away from the chicken-roaster and saw Isabella watching with absolute terror that seemed totally disconnected from the doctor and nurses still working between her legs. She looked completely ignorant of that, her whole attention trained on Jungkook and the baby. Everything right now was so weird.

The baby gave a full body shudder and a nurse suggested, “I’ll get a diaper.”

“Who cares about a diaper,” Jungkook snapped, offended she’d think he was afraid of whatever the baby might produce. He was just born! Jungkook was his dad, he didn’t care, let babies be naked! “A blanket? Please.” It was tacked on. Politeness wasn’t at the front of his mind right now; his baby needed things and what, they were worried about some pee or poop? If that would make him feel better, he could poop all he wanted!

Jungkook’s throat felt thick as he tucked the baby higher, pressing his jaw gently to the hatted top of head as he carried him over to his anxious eomma. It was crazy. It was unbelievable. He was holding the baby and he couldn’t even make sense of that yet because it actually didn’t feel that weird at all, of course he was holding his son, hadn’t he always been holding his son since the dawn of time? Wasn’t this all just a really nice dream?

A nurse held out a blanket but first Jungkook lowered the baby into Isabella’s waiting arms, then took the blanket himself and tucked it around the baby. Isabella’s gasped and immediately pushed the hat off and stoked the hair and chubby little face and papery-thin ears as tears spilled over. 

“Oh my god, our baby. Look at him.”

Only then did Jungkook more fully appreciate that he had held his son for the first time. His real living breathing in-the-world son. The baby’s cries quieted to a single final chirp of complaint and then nothing, just peace on his mom’s chest. Jungkook decided the baby had been real a moment ago, there was this haze of unreal around everything until Isabella and the baby were together. Now it was real. Impossible, but real.

“Oh my god,” Isabella said again. “He’s got so much hair!” Jungkook laughed and reached out to stroke the baby’s face again too, leaning close on the bed beside Isabella, ignorant to the bustle around the room. That was just background noise now. All that mattered was that suddenly they had a baby and Isabella was holding their baby.

He felt complete in a way he had not known was missing. Him, Isabella, Ezra, Lily, Gidget, and now this baby to tie them all together, he felt whole. He suddenly desperately wanted everyone here so he could hold everyone at once. His heart would burst. 

“Was that you?!” Isabella gasped, looking up at him. The whining noise had come from him, not the baby at all, though it sounded like a baby noise. He tried to explain himself but only a cracked non-word came out and he blinked rapidly against the tears. “Oh my god you’re going to cry,” Isabella giggled. Her face glowed with sweat and effort and joy and Jungkook wasn’t surprised at all the way their son stared adoringly up at it. What a beautiful first view.

“I’m trying not to,” Jungkook admitted and laughed as his eyes threatened to run over. He pressed his face to Isabella’s shoulder and drew a deep shaky breath. The blanket moved against his chin, a little foot cycling. “Hey, are you trying to kick me already?!” The baby was a solid warm lump under the blanket, so warm Jungkook couldn’t believe it as he patted the little butt he’d been shown so many times on the ultrasounds. 

“Ok, I’m sorry to interrupt again, we want to draw some blood,” the pediatric doctor said.

“You have to take him?” Isabella asked, shifting as though trying to sit up. The doctor down south told her not to move, so Jungkook slid his arm across her, trying not to notice that there were stitches happening in a place stitches shouldn’t be. How was Isabella not pay any attention at all to that?!

“In a moment, but you keep holding him now. Often that helps a baby improve and wake up, which is what we want to see, he’s still a little sleepy. Right now we’re just going to stick his foot. I will explain while the nurse does that. We noticed meconium in the amniotic fluid right before he was born. Meconium is the baby’s first stool, it’s this blank inky stuff–”

“We have two other children, I remember it,” Isabella interrupted. The joy was gone from her face, she looked so serious at the doctor. Jungkook could read her mind. Spit it out already.

“The concern is whether the baby aspirates the meconium into his lungs. If so, it can make it difficult for him to get the oxygen he needs. The good news is, he looks really good, his color is good, he is responsive and strong. There were no signs of fetal distress during labor and you delivered quickly, but a quick delivery can be hard on a baby too. I do hear a slight crackle in his lungs,” the doctor continued. Jungkook watched the nurse grab their baby’s tiny foot with a needle and resisted the urge to push her away. The baby didn’t seem to notice or care anyway. He was just… existing against Isabella, breathing quickly like he couldn’t quite trust the air of this new world.

“That’s bad,” Isabella said. “Is that why he’s kind of breathing fast? Does he need oxygen or something?”

“It’s not good but we don’t know if it’s bad yet. We’ll run a blood gas to look for low blood acidity, low oxygen or increased carbon dioxide. The most accurate way we can look to see if he’s aspirated is with a laryngoscope, which we’re setting up now.”

“Right now?” Isabella asked with alarm. “He was just born!”

“The last thing we want is your baby not getting the oxygen he needs to do well,” the doctor explained. “If he needs to go on oxygen therapy, better we do that quickly.”

“But…” Isabella trailed off, face distressed, but she was already shifting to hand it over. “You can check quickly?”

“I don’t understand, he’s in danger?” Jungkook tried to catch up.

“We hope not but we want to make sure so we can react quickly. Your baby’s APGAR score was a 5, which means–”

“He needs help,” Isabella said. “Take him, do what he needs! But tell me what’s going on!”

Jungkook felt like he’d done the wrong thing bringing the baby over now. He didn’t know what to do. This wasn’t what he’d planned. He and Isabella were just supposed to snuggle their new baby now; he wasn’t supposed to trail after the doctor carrying his son back to the chicken oven where medical staff had set up several tools next to an incubation bed. Just the sight of that was terrifying and known. It meant something was really wrong.

Jungkook barely held himself together as the baby was braced again and the doctor slid an actual camera this time down the tiny throat. Jungkook wanted to push them all away but was frozen with the terror of it. What did it mean if the baby didn’t have enough oxygen? He didn’t understand in a real way, only that it was bad. What was happening to their baby?

“Faint staining,” the doctor said, looking at a grainy image on the small monitor that meant nothing to Jungkook. He wanted to scream at the awful image of his newborn child with a camera in its mouth. This was wrong, this was a nightmare.

“Very faint though,” she said as she withdrew the tools and set them on a tray for a nurse to carry off. “Let’s recheck APGAR.” Jungkook could only stand there as they ran through a series of questions again –about baby’s skin tone, response to thwacking on the heels, a pulse check, temperature. Jungkook felt like he’d shit himself, he was so anxious, but mindlessly called things over to Isabella before realizing she’d just delivered the placenta. Did he want to see it? No, he told the nurse; how could he care about that when they were listening to his baby’s lungs again? Also, kinda gross…

Suddenly the baby jolted and cried out.

“Ah! Sorry, little one, was that cold?” the doctor grinned and shared a smile with the nurses. She concentrated on listening and nodded, then glanced over her notes as the baby began squirming. 

“What’s happening?” Isabella called again. “Someone tell me!”

“Your baby’s APGAR score is improving,” the doctor called back. “That’s good. That’s very good.” She slid her finger along his arm and palm and smiled when little fingers curled around it. “That’s better. That’s better, little one, you’re waking up.”  

“Oxygen?” the nurse asked.

“Set up for the chest x ray, let’s do that since I saw the staining but… but these signs are good… come, let’s get baby back to mom for now.” 

Jungkook wasn’t thrilled the doctor picked the baby up this time, after the nurses had added a diaper. Something about the diaper seemed wrong, like they were already trying to clean the baby up when he and Isabella just wanted to be with the baby, no diaper needed, just them. He trailed along as the doctor whose name he’d already forgotten returned the baby to Isabella’s chest, offering her a reassuring smile. Isabella looked terrified and Jungkook didn’t know what to do about it. He wasn’t sure his touch would be comforting since it hadn’t been for labor, so he just hovered beside her and watched.

“Good news, mom and dad, baby’s looking a little better. I do see signs of meconium staining on his cords but it’s very, very faint which hopefully means he aspirated very little. The crackle is still in his lungs. This is all very slight but something we want to monitor closely. His heart rate is picking up and his breathing is slowing down, all very good signs. We’ll redo the blood gas in a few hours as well but there’s a balance to strike between making sure he’s supported and not being too aggressive with anything that will tax his little lungs.”

“So what does that mean?” Isabella asked, bless her, because Jungkook didn’t understand a fucking thing.

“It means he is looking better by the minute despite aspirating the meconium so right now I want you to take the time you want to do skin to skin like you are, try to nurse him, just love on him. But we will want to watch him closely for the next few hours and if anything changes, put him on oxygen, so you’re going to see a lot of us until we’re sure he’s all right.”

“Should we do that right now?” Isabella asked. “I don’t want to hold off just for my sake–”

“No no, I promise I would not risk anything. Right now the best thing is for him to be surrounded by you and watched. When you sleep though, we will want to take him to the nursery for close watch, ok?”

“I’m here,” Jungkook reminded. “I can watch him while she sleeps.”

The doctor smiled and agreed, “Yes, absolutely. I will explain the things to watch. But both of you should rely on medical staff while you are here to get the rest you need to take care of him at home. We may have him stay here a couple extra days.”

“In the NICU?” Isabella asked.

“I don’t think he needs NICU as of now, we’ll just keep watching. He is seeming stronger by the minute, we just want to make sure we’re quick to react if that changes. See, he’s rooting, that’s a good sign too.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but feel like she’d tossed a bucket of stress over them. He watched the baby with more anxiety than fascination as Isabella went through the motions of stroking his face and pressing her nipple into his mouth –something that seemed old hand to her after two kids but Jungkook thought was pretty fascinating. The pediatric doctor remained to watch too, a whole party of nurses as well, but Isabella didn’t seem to mind the audience.

“Is it bad?” he asked her quietly, hoping she would know more and could give him an answer.

“I don’t know… he looks so perfect… I think if it was really bad they’d have him on oxygen so they’re just watching…” She looked nervous. Conflicted. He resented that the doctor had interfered with their joy. He felt like worry was making him miss everything. 

“Ready to move her to a room?” a nurse at the door called. 

Jungkook trailed after them, not sure how he was supposed to fix any of this and angry that they hadn’t had more than a minute to bask in each others presence after birth and terrified that a big hand was going to suddenly reach down and steal his son away before he even got to know him.

**

The baby had been born shortly after seven o’clock in the morning. It was weird to get messages from family members about delivering the kids to school, about work, wanting to know when they could visit and asking for pictures. Jungkook hadn’t even taken pictures during labor or immediately after the baby was born. Another failure. He tried to make up for it in the room, snapping photos of Isabella exhausted but mooning over the baby, the baby snuggled against her chest, the baby trying to nurse because Isabella said that was fine to photograph. 

Eomma and Appa came by right away and couldn’t believe a whole baby had been born in such a short period of time. Soona came too, and Gina. They all fluttered around Isabella and the baby and Jungkook was glad to have something to do, taking pictures, fetching Isabella water and food, reciting the things the doctors had said even though they didn’t make sense to him. He wished he could believe everyone’s assurances that the baby would be fine, but they didn’t know.

Soona went with him for the baby’s x-ray because he insisted, needing to feel like he was doing something for his baby. His sister was a doctor, no one would refuse to answer her questions, and Soona would tell him what they were really saying. It was all so scary. It didn’t matter that the doctors were saying things were improving, there was still that crackle in his lungs, and they decided to start him on antibiotics because he was running a fever, and Jungkook worried worried worried. A newborn baby shouldn’t run even a small fever! He was glad to have his big sister there to ask the right questions.

It was several hours before family left to let Isabella rest before more family would come by later. Jungkook nodded seriously when Eomma told him to be firm if they wanted fewer visitors –that was another thing he could do. But he knew Isabella would want the kids to come by and meet their brother as soon as they were out of school. He hoped the baby would be healthy and strong enough; it wasn’t risky, right? And–

“Jungkook.” He went at her call in an instant, leaning down on the side of the bed. “You’re worried,” she so wisely detected.

“Yeah.”

“But he’s doing ok,” she said.

“Shouldn’t they put him on oxygen just to be sure?” Jungkook asked. He’d made the mistake of looking up on his phone what it meant to aspirate meconium in a quiet moment. Low oxygen at birth could cause all sorts of brain trauma. They might not even see it for months or years. He might seem fine now but then get worse later.   

“Koo.”

“Hm?”

“Snuggle down with me.” She shuffled over as best she could in the bed, and he kicked his shoes off before balancing on it with her, not trusting it would hold them both until it did. The baby had fallen asleep on her chest, sound asleep, mouth open, perfectly at peace.

“What if he’s got brain damage?” Jungkook whispered, afraid the baby would hear.

“Then we do whatever he needs,” she said. “But it wasn’t much meconium. It’s light staining. His blood gas wasn’t bad.”

“But–”

“I know,” she murmured. “Everything is so scary. Everything can go wrong and they’re so little and you feel so helpless to do anything. I feel that terror too. But look at him. He’s here, and he’s strong, I can tell.”

Jungkook had to admit the baby did look healthy and peaceful. He looked less blue and more like a little plump puffy baby. He didn’t even seem to be having a hard time breathing right now; his whole chest didn’t convulse like it had off and on all morning.

“Is he breathing?” Jungkook suddenly gasped.

“He’s breathing. I can feel it. He’s just content right now,” Isabella said. “He’s good.”

“He’s good,” Jungkook repeated.

“We have a baby.”

“We have a baby,” Jungkook repeated, then added, “And I only cried a little. There wasn’t time to cry.”

“I know. That was scary but… but it’s quiet now.”

It was. It was so quiet and peaceful. Isabella was a beast and seemed to have come through labor as if it was nothing, which he did not understand.

“How are you feeling?” he asked her, realizing he hadn’t in a few minutes.

“I’m still fine, Koo,” she laughed. “Puffy and sore. They’re going to come tell me to try and pee soon and I’ll probably cry about that. I don’t want to get out of bed.”

“You should rest. You… did a lot.”

“You think?” she giggled.

He stroked her face to get her to look up so he could kiss her and finally his touch seemed welcome. He hadn’t had time to entertain the fear it would be permanent, that space she wanted, but it was gone now anyway, just a figment of labor. He could feel she was sleepy by the low energy of her kiss, warm and soft and lazy. 

“It’s so different,” she murmured. 

“What is?” he asked. He kissed her forehead, his hand dropping down to rest against the lump of the baby because he needed to be part of this joyful love too. Whatever happened, the baby was loved and wanted and Isabella was right, they would figure out whatever he needed if something did go wrong later on.

“This part,” she answered. “It’s so weird. When Ezra was born, I almost felt bad for Landon because I just had this instant connection with the baby, he was mine and… and I think Landon felt very left out. He didn’t know what to do.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“You’re amazing, Koo. When he was first born and the doctor had him over there and I didn’t know what was happening but you were there.”

“Doing nothing.”

“Being there. When Lily was born, you know it was just the two of us, me and her, and that felt right too. I would have liked to have a partner there but not Stig. He didn’t belong in that moment with me, meeting my daughter. She was never his. And this time… honestly, I was kind of afraid I would resent you being here.”

“Resent me like… being present at all?”

“I’ve never been someone’s wife. I’ve never had a partner the way you are. Just… people who interfere, Landon, Stig…  failures as parents… I was a little afraid the baby would be born and I would just want him in my arms and everyone to go away, even you.”

Jungkook swallowed. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had similar fears but it was terrifying to hear Isabella admit them. She’d fought so hard to protect and raise her children, and he’d never done this before, he fully expected his bumbling might make her defensive.

“But seeing you hold him, it feels the same as if I’m holding him,” she said. “There’s nowhere in the world our kids are safer than with you.”

Relief flooded Jungkook’s body.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Koo. Labor sucks and I couldn’t have done this again without you.”

“You seemed to do just fine,” he mumbled, abashed by her affection.

“I know I didn’t want much touching but… but you were here. And you listened when I said something and you nearly shoved that elderly couple out of the elevator so I could get in–”

“I thought you were going to have the baby in the hall,” he chuckled. “They thought so too, everyone was jumping out of the way.”

“I almost did!”

“It went faster than I thought it would.”

“Me too. My perineum isn’t happy about it.”

“Ah, the tearing…”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

“I’ll still eat there all the same but–”

“Jungkook!”

“We’ll wait until you’re all healed up and then I’ll take care of things,” he assured her, overjoyed by her scandalized glare. 

“You just watched a child emerge from my vagina. I would think that’d cool your engines for a while–”

“No way. You’re so cool, Bella.”

“Here, take him.”

“Oh do you need–”

“No, just you hold him now. I bet he won’t even wake up, he’s so out. Maybe he’s going to be a heavy sleeper like you.”

“Is that bad?” he asked.

“Having a baby who sleeps well would be the greatest blessing.” He was barely listening to her because she’d started to drag the baby towards him, the whole little burrito. At the last second Jungkook recalled all the conversation about skin to skin and yanked his shirt over his head and tossed it away.

“What are you doing?”

“Uh… they said that uh, skin to skin with dad is–”

“You’re so cute,” she grinned, and dumped the baby burrito onto his chest. He was so warm Jungkook thought he must still have a fever though the nurse’s said the fever was gone. His hands and feet were now a healthy pink that Jungkook hadn’t even known to hope for. 

He adjusted the little one against his chest –who, as Isabella suspected, barely stirred. His face rubbed against Jungkook’s pec and for a second he thought the baby was rooting and would wake up, but he just relaxed and slumbered on. 

“What a lucky baby to have two parents with big tits,” Isabella mused.

“I’ll scream if he goes for my nipple.”

“Count on it.”

Jungkook’s laugh trailed off. He was too mesmerized. Dark hair peeked out from beneath the cap, feathery soft over little skin rolls at the back of his neck. He wasn’t swaddled, just draped with a blanket, his little body curled up like he’d probably been inside Isabella. He was so, so new, so fresh. Jungkook knew within weeks, months, years this baby was going to turn into a little person but it was hard to believe right now. Jungkook slid his thumb into the little fist, long papery fingernails barely a scratch against his skin. He had that feeling again he’d had earlier: I am complete, my family is complete. I’ve been waiting for you and now everything is good.

“Maybe we should have let Ezra and Lily skip school so they could come sooner,” Jungkook said. “It feels wrong they haven’t met him yet.”

“They’ll meet him soon and have every day with him. Enjoy the quiet now.”

“That’s true… I just miss them…”

“What are we going to introduce him by?”

“What do you mean?”

“What should we name him, Jungkook,” she snickered, and kissed his shoulder. He kissed the side of her head, briefly again distracted by how amazing she was to have delivered a fucking baby and now just be hanging out talking to him like it was no big deal. She hadn’t even cried. He’d cried from constipated shits before and now she was asking him what they should name this baby she had made?

“We had that list of names.”

“You choose.”

“What?!”

“You pick his name,” she said again. “As long as it’s not something I hate. No Wolf.”

“But you gave birth…”

“And you’re his dad. I got to name our first two.”

Jungkook studied the little face pressed to his chest. He tried to fit a name to this person, but how? Nothing fit. He was a brand new baby, a blank slate. There was no personality yet to tag a name onto, only a little potato with a head of dark hair and a history of scaring the shit out of his parents from the first minute.

But there actually was a name on the list that had seemed familiar to him from the moment he’d written it down. Isabella had not seemed to react any particular way to it, but she hadn’t struck it out, and he’d been almost afraid to point it again in case she didn’t like it. He wasn’t sure where he’d even heard it, it had just lodged in his brain.

“Kai,” he said.

“Kai?” she repeated. “Kai Jeon?”

“It sounds cool, right?” he asked hopefully. 

“It sounds like a manga character,” she said, then grinned. “The protagonist. I like it.”

“Really?”

“Ezra, Lily, and Kai. It sounds good together.”

“Yeah, I thought so too!”

“So you’ve thought about this.”

“I just liked the name… OK, and what about Ronin for the middle name? The ronin were samurais who no longer served a master or family, only themselves… kind of like wandering knights… That’s cool, right? Ah, too geeky?”

“Kai Ronin Jeon sounds cool.”

“And it’s kind of like Ezra Ryan and Lily Eleanor… and Kai Ronin… it sounds good, like you said.”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Hi, Kai. You are going to have a way easier time learning to spell your name than I did so you’re welcome,” Jungkook murmured, patting the little cushy diapered butt. “Kai.” He felt a joy course through him. Yes, the name was right, he felt it in his heart. The baby was right. The family was right. The woman was definitely right.

He wanted to say that, to tell her how much this meant to him, to tell her that he recognized the miracle it had taken for them to be together like this and married and having a baby, and that she had done most of the work. He wanted to tell her he would never take this for granted, that she’d been willing to do it all one more time with him even though the last times had been so hard for her.

What came out was, “Hey I look pretty good for a dad of three, huh?”

“If you weren’t holding him, I would push you off the bed.”

“You look banging as a mom of three–”

“Jungkook–”

“Your tits are…” He trailed off, realizing they were definitely getting bigger. He’d know. He studied them carefully.

“Yeah, I think my milk is coming in faster this time, so he better have an appetite. I can’t believe he’s over nine pounds…”

“Yeah, is that good?”

“It’s big.”

“Is it? I don’t know baby sizes. He seems bigger than my nieces and nephews were.”

“It’s big.”

“He’s strong,” Jungkook decided.

“I think it’s mostly his head. He got your head.”

“Wha? I have a normal sized head.”

“Tell that to my fourteen stitches.”

“Is it really fourteen?!”

“I don’t know, I made that up, I wasn’t listening –he’s awake.”

Jungkook’s gaze snapped immediately down to the little face, to the little dark eyes cracking open. His brow and mouth were scrunched, making him look very grumpy to get woken up.

“Oh hey look at that scowl, he’s definitely yours, Bella–”

“I swear to god, Jungkook.”

“Ah, I think he’s doing that breathing thing again,” Jungkook frowned as the baby began to breathe with his whole chest again. “I’ll give him to you to nurse and get a nurse to check him again.”

“You think we should?” Isabella asked and Jungkook was floored by the question, by the way she looked up at him, by the trust he felt from her. She was the one who’d had babies before! But she was relying on him as the father to help make sure their baby was ok. That Kai was ok.

“Yeah. I’d rather check too much and annoy the nurses than wait too long if he needs oxygen, right? I’m sure he’s fine but I’ll get the nurse.” He felt puffed up with the responsibility of it as he gently eased Kai over to Isabella. Kai let out a cry of complaint, just a little single yowl, and Jungkook’s heart skipped a beat.

“You like me already, huh?”

“Your tits are better,” Isabella teased.

“Definitely not true, sugar butt. I’ll be back.” He said it just to get her huff of annoyance at the saccharine pet name. Good. He loved Isabella grumpy with affection. He loved her needing him and trusting him and pulling him close when it would be so easy for her to push him away in her exhaustion and fear over their baby. 

He hadn’t felt like it wasn’t true, but he felt for sure now that they were in this together. Maybe that was partly where the sense of completeness came from, not just from holding Kai and feeling like his family was complete, but this bone-deep proof now that he was Isabella’s –to have, to hold, to rely on– in a way he thought he never could be.

He went off to bother the nurses again, gladly, because there was nothing he wouldn’t do for his wife and kids.

*

Isabella felt it too: that connection, that worry, that relief, that wholeness. 

Kai would be all right, she believed it because she had to, and because he had his daddy to take over when Isabella couldn’t. It didn’t matter if Jungkook didn’t come into this with the parenting history she did. He was Kai’s dad, and he wouldn’t quit until he got it right, until Kai had whatever he needed –just like he had with Ezra, and Lily, and Isabella. 

Kai was perfect, just as both her other children had been. She had the most wonderful children in the world, and any of her fears that blending a family would be hard vanished when she held Kai. He belonged here, and Ezra and Lily would feel it too, just like they had with Jungkook even before she did. 

Jungkook came back, chatting animatedly with the nurse. He’d been up all night with her once the labor pains started, trailing her like a duckling as she paced the house, timing them because she was impatient and couldn’t remember to do it, bringing her ice water, keeping his distance when she said she needed space, jumping to her side when she needed someone to lean on.

“I think Kai needs a new diaper,” she shared as Jungkook and the nurse reached her. She peeked in the back of the diaper to confirm because these early meconium poops were odorless and easy, but she’d sensed it in the way he had just curled and relaxed. She was right. Maybe some of this baby stuff would come back to her, more easily than she had feared. 

Jungkook stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles, then beamed, “All right, let’s get diaper duty started, huh? We’re going to ease into this, right, Kai? Start me off with some non-threatening stuff, yeah?”

Jungkook’s gasps of horror at the tarry stools a moment later had Isabella suppressing the laughter, her body too sore for this kind of thing. 

God, every time she didn’t think she could possibly love Jungkook anymore than she already did, she found she could. 

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

There are more Amended drabbles on my masterlist or read the main story here

[tgirlschlatt]

Hello! I LOVED your c!pumpkinduo sex headcanons (which is a sentence I never thought I'd say lol). I was wondering if you had any aftercare headcanons for them? Specifically their difference in aftercare in Manburg compared to the Las Nevadas era. Thanks so much :D

YAYYYY IM FLATTERED cpumpkins gay t4t sex forever ok? this is a very sweet question actually :(( hold on

I DO THINK THEIR METHODS VARY A TOUCH.. based on who's who and the development of the relationship hmm. in broad strokes i would say schlatt relies more on action while q gets very cooing and praising.

in MANBURG... when quackity bottoms i do see him as a bit of crier LOL he's easily overwhelmed and a touch sensitive. so a lot of it is schlatt cleaning him up and wiping his face and checking on him a bit heh. a couple of "not too much?" "was that ok?" type questions or double checking specific moments. which then leads into some fussing over him and getting him comfortable- i like to think they indulge in a relaxing bath sometimes kyaa... (kyaa is fujoshi for so cutes) and post-sex wing preening has gotta hit different [the humble hybrid pervert]

versus w/ schlatt... for him bottoming is a realll show of vulnerability that quackity likes to take full advantage of HEH. he gets in all his sweet comments & praise that schlatt would normally bristle at/get too embarrassed over. schlatt might get a gripe or two in but he's 'too tired' to actively complain or put a stop to it SIGHHH. q's just very gooey and bursting with reassurances until they settle in for the night all the way and schlatt studiously has to pretend these moments dont exist the morning after.

whereas by the time they're having sex again in lnv. goodness. i do believe there'd have to be some work done before q is bottoming here but when he does... idk in my head it's very tender. schlatt slowly getting him to relax and take a load off and just enjoy himself and then carefully putting him back together in the aftermath. a lot of gentle touches and petting involved while q tries to be normal abt it. atp i think schlatt's more open w/ his words to quackity too so there's a lot of hushed praise in his ear that quackity has to pretend not to be effected by

then w/ schlatt here UHMM ok. so w/ q bottoming i think that would mostly take place post-revival when all their shit is more hashed out but they're doing crazy weird shit while schlatt is still a ghost ok? you just have to know this for me. like some bizarre kink powerplay things that don't even fully lead into sex most of the time. and q has moments of conflict like should i even be doing this. am i taking advantage of him. and schlatts like if you were thatd be kinda hawt 💞 and tries to suck on his fingers. this is their aftercare in glattmode HAHA

post-revival though!! is also her transition 🫶 so while this is something schlatt figures out in his own right & their relationship really hits a good point of like. trust & stability. quackity reallyyyyy wants to indulge him and take care of her and make sure that she knows she's hot and loved and desirable. SIGHHH. so he's still very effusive with praise :( he just knows what angles he can hit & what might be sticking in schlatt's mind now...

IDKKK i made myself emo could you imagine a couple could still make it work even while terrible things happen & they cant wholly understand each other up until they got frayed to a breaking point and EVEN THEN manage to bring themselves together again with fuller knowledge of each other & themselves and resolve to treat each other better and never let the same things happen over again. WAHHHHH

[gristlegrinder]

okay quick 2024 roundup of all of my new gw2 kids. including some people i've never posted about! yeehaw okay let's go

ZOOFAHSHOO

she/they | quaggan | herald

they’ve been an ongoing bit in some of my rps for a while but this is the year that zoof manifested fully in my brain! (zoof? my brain keeps wanting to shorten it to zooey, pronounced like “gooey,” and i have not decided if that’s too silly or if it’s cute). she’s a priory scholar who left their home village of kahloipoi to try and find a way to take care of the risen for good. from there, she becomes the noble pact commander and champion of aurene, taking up arms and leading the charge against the elder dragons. she quietly ignores everybody who demeans her station because of the novelty of what she is, and she bites her tongue whenever she wants to lash out at her enemies with the ferocity she knows she harbors within her.

when they get knocked out of the sky and crash land in cantha, an uninvited guest latches on while everything is dark. it’s an old “friend”— the demon deimos, crawling out of the shadows after being mercilessly slaughtered by her and her squad six years earlier. he’s only a mist reflection of himself, so he insists that he isn’t there to feed on their torment and misery. instead, he’s the worst enabler, finding the quaggan’s reluctance to embrace or even acknowledge all of the nasty impulses festering inside of them— a quaggan’s rage, her envy, her arrogance, her hungers— too fascinating to not spend his afterlife picking at. it’s an odd dynamic that serves as a constant source of uneasy temptation and bickering, but she has to admit that he has his merits, and that maybe he's right about some things.

this, as you can imagine, makes things interesting when she investigates strange camps in kryta and plunges headfirst into a rift, face-to-face with his estranged brother, his sister hissing in their ear, and a war about to start. there are some things that the astral ward doesn't need to know about their new wayfinder. and deimos can complain under his breath all he wants as long as they can keep their act together. i love her a lot.

OUR LADY SERRA

she/her | krytan human | tempest

serra ran away to the circus as a plucky kid with ideas bigger than her parents could manage. growing up with them, she specialized as an acrobat and aerialist, although her innate talent at magic definitely came in handy with more elaborate stunts. her troupe was her family, and her ringmaster ivy was like an older sister to her— she would follow them to the ends of the earth. and that’s what she did, when their ship crashed in the ring of fire on their way home to lion’s arch and they spent years stranded as castaways on the ember bay. afterwards (and perhaps after watching one of her family members get eaten by a giant sloth) she exited the high stakes of the circus business and left all of her grief behind with it, and now works independently as a burlesque performer in smaller venues.

i’m not entirely sure how deep her involvement was in the white mantle. i think it’s fair to say that ivy’s circus was probably funded by caudecus, at least originally, and i have a hard time believing they weren’t somehow involved in the white mantle when they were inexplicably in the heart of maguuma at the same time as the events of heart of thorns and everything going on in the forsaken thicket raid. but they also don’t mention their politics at all, and they seem unaware of the escalating tension back home and the imminent krytan civil war, probably because they would’ve shipwrecked and lost contact before xera was killed. do you ever just completely abandon your cult mission because you got distracted adopting a slubling and turning it into a circus attraction? surely there’s something going on there. she’s not happy about whatever it is. i definitely want to expand on whatever she's got going on next year, which should be fun.

anyways, why are carnival weapons so expensive? send help.

THOR (not pictured) + SIF 

he/him and she/her | norn | unknown + core necromancer

thor isn’t built in the game yet (my character slots…), but sif is! thor is the rhythm guitarist of THE BLOODBATH APOSTATES, a my chemical romance knockoff pop punk outfit that started in lion’s arch in the wake of its destruction. as the oldest of six or seven children, thor’s mother picked everybody up and left their father’s sons of svanir cult in the middle of the night when thor was a young adolescent. he’s got complicated feelings about that, in the way that you do when you know objectively as an adult that your father sucks and was not a good person to people who were not you, but you also can’t help yourself from hating what you lose in the process. he decided to channel that angst into making music with his best friend (a guy he met by getting into a drunken fistfight in a back alley) and the charr cub crashing on his couch. ultimately, thor’s a typical guitarist sleazebag who flirts with their fans a little bit too much and causes too much of a scene in public when he’s had a little bit too much of the good stuff, and arrogantly assumes they’re all the new rock gods of tyria.

sif is his wife, who is kind of miserable with the whole arrangement. she was cooler when they first started dating— a DIY show regular studying necromancy with all of the snarl of leopard, daring and bold despite a lifetime of insecurities. but she put her studies and her life on hold when she became pregnant, and agreed to support their new family if it meant he could carve out a legend for the three of them, and it wouldn’t change a thing. it ultimately wasn’t what she thought it would be, and she bears most of the heavy burden of childcare and managing a homestead (and being a creative consultant, and helping with budgeting and travel logistics) on her own while he tours, pretending she doesn’t know what he smells like when he comes home for a fleeting hour in the middle of the night, or what the gossip rags have been writing about him. she’s busy having an affair or two of her own and thinking about killing him before she runs out of time to get out of this lot. it's a bitter resentment festering.

guild wars 2 is a game about cycles repeating themselves.

IBUKI

they/he/she/it | tengu | profession undecided (probably a virt?)

imagine a world where we get playable tengu and i don’t have to fight with getting screenshots of an NPC with the closest character model. anyways, they’re my other 2024 character in me and saint’s bloodbath apostates project. ibuki is their keyboardist, and they also mess around with synthesizers and a lot of technical audio production.they’re classically trained in a lot of traditional instruments, and they’re figuring out the electronic parts as they go with some help from my thereminist oc they’re sleeping with. ibuki was born and raised into a prestigious family in the dominion of winds (possibly the Great House kalidris talks about), one that i’ve intentionally left vague while begging arenanet for a crumb of information. their life was largely predetermined and held up to intense scrutiny. they were engaged to a lovely respectable girl, they kept a respectable bureaucratic internship as they prepared for a serious career, they ran all of the minutiae of their life through their family for approval. it was a perfectly fine, gilded cage.

and then they were caught breaking the rules and sneaking around where they shouldn’t have. oh, the scandal! the impropriety! they won’t tell anybody what happened, but it involved other people with more power than them, and they were politely given the option to leave the dominion of winds without saying another word, before they caused more trouble than they were worth. exile was better than prison— or ruining the rest of their family’s lives. even though they were terrified of the world outside of those walls when they first crossed the threshold, they wouldn’t go back in a million years. ibuki’s fashioned themself into a rebellious art brat intent on shocking all good society (or a spun-out honors student finally learning about freedom), with a lot of bright-red eyeliner and a lot of nervous energy pacing around in the bathrooms backstage while thor repeatedly tells them to relax a little before it kills them.

MOURNING PEAT (in-game name that nasty bear)

he/him | kodan | harbinger

alright, technically i am still grinding convergences to get the bearkin combat tonic with more options, but this is what he looks like for now. peaty’s a lowland kodan who sincerely believes that rot grows inside of him. when he was a cub, he almost drowned in the bog while sticking his nose in places he shouldn’t have and wandering far too off the path. that’s a secret he’s been carrying with him for years— it, and all of the fossilized remains of white mantle victims that he still sees in his sleep— and it’s sort of bloomed into its own set of internalized neuroses. the bog queen isn’t just a legend; she’s real, and she’s claimed him as one of her own. he’s tainted, he’s rotten. that’s why he still feels her jubilant swarm crawling up his arms if he stands still for too long, and why he feels like such a fraud around all of the other bearkin, pretending he really belongs with them. that’s why he mostly keeps to himself, politely hanging back during celebrations and keeping to his charts until somebody needs a weather prediction. strange, but not bad, he is, they think.

(honestly, alessia couldn’t care less about some flea-ridden bear having a self-destructive fixation on her. she doesn’t even know he exists— having only been spurned awake in recent years due to the titan resurgence. this is all on him.) 

well, peat’s dumped six bodies in that mire so far over the last twenty years. the first was a frantic accident that he covered up. the last two were astral ward mages that he figured nobody would miss. it calms his nerves, and the rest of the details are between him and alessia, as far as he’s concerned, and they’ll die with him someday. i wanted a nasty bear for the bit, and so i made myself a nasty murder bear.

BLOODSTONE BUTCH (BB)

he/him probably | charr | renegade

i feel kind of bad about bb because i haven’t done much with him and he's definitely the least developed character on this list, but i am busy skittering around in the walls of various discord servers. technically he’s another musician oc (yes i have a lot of musician ocs do NOT say anything)— some other friends of mine started a band and so he’s the drummer in the bloodstone fems. bb was an olmakhan who left the village after coming of age to try and find himself, ended up making ends meet in amnoon for a bit while traveling around and experiencing the world, jumped in and out of a couple bands on tour, and eventually met his current group of unhinged freaks that he loves very much.

he’s also a revenant of sorts, having opened his mind up to bloodstone— a habitual indulgence (thanks, fems) that went wrong once, and now leaves him susceptible to the wails and memories of bloodstone ghosts, and other mists phenomena. i’m keeping this open-ended and subject to change, on the off-chance we get some really interesting mursaat lore in future JW updates, but i’m currently stuck between his main revenant echo being the seer doyen, sidony, or perhaps manikaz or one of the other mursaat we’ve gotten recent references to. (i’m leaning sidony because i already have a couple of characters with white mantle stuff going on in their backstories, and i think the seers are a fun enigma to play around with— but it kind of depends on what information we get!). either way, he’s vibing, and trying not to sink too deep in the sorrow that comes with centuries of horrible sacrifices singing in your brain. it’s honestly not that bad. some of us are dealing with deimos's theatrics.

anyways, yeah, i've been surprisingly productive this year LMAO ty for reading all this if you made it to the end <3

[forgetyoursingalongsandlullabies]

TMAGP 31 Thoughts - Spoilers

- Severed hand! No blood!

- Cables running through it?!!

- Oh my God the hand just disappeared

- Gwen please call Lena

- Administrator privilege REVOKED

- Discard Data OH FUCK! All his elements?! Oh my God Colin you poor bastard

- ^^ My jaw was on the floor in horror and joy

- It sounds like the system was provoked! Lmao Gwen

- Oh is that the sound of a whimpering Sam?

- It sounds very muddy and gooey where he is

- “Sam will be okay. Mommy was okay so he will be too” she’s really hoping but damn

- Choose not to get involved. Wow Celia now you don’t want to get involved

- Celia keeps saying stuff she knows is from a case. When will someone ask to see the cases she’s referencing? If I were Alice and Celia has way more info than me that she claims to have learned from a case I’d want to read it too.

- It’s using the photocopier and printing Colin’s face

- Circus music! Oh, Sam

- Georgie is an MVP as always

- Oh Georgie is Captain here! Of course she is. Georgie the badass that you are

- Got a ride in Gertrude. They named a car after her

- Georgie doesn’t seem caught by the name Celia

- Keep investigations off the books. Gwen you’re making choices..

- Archivist is here!

- Ah a good ol’ Eyepocalypse statement

- “the archivist died, his face still burned into my mind” so did everyone know what Jon looked like? Like was everyone dreaming him? Because some people that met him had no clue who he was while some people did kind of automatically know who he was. I just wonder how that worked. Who and why. Unless she gave a statement before? But it doesn’t sound like she did. I just want to know how his face was burned in her mind. Did everyone “see” the pupil fall?

- “There is no place left for monsters. We will be your end and I will watch” 👏🏼 RIP Heidi a short lived icon.

So, that was a lot. I’m really just dwelling on why Heidi said The Archivist’s face was burned in her mind. Wondering the logistics. I’m also wondering about the car named after Gertrude, just, who is left that knows about her enough to have enough affection for her to name a car that? Probably Basira as she handled Gertrude’s murder case and would have known the most. There is some spark in my mind that maybe this isn’t our Archives-verse but that would mean The Eyepocalypse happened in multiple universes in the same time period. That’s way too complicated. It 99% probably is our Archivurse.

Many questions. Many many questions.