#Dis Prompt Bunnies

[disillusioneddanny]

Dis Prompt #1 DPxDC

Has everyone watched Batman and Harley Quinn? You know the 2017 movie with Kevin Conroy?

Okay cool, stick with me.

Imagine, Harley and Nightwing hook up. Later, Harley discovers that she's pregnant and well, Harley can't take care of a baby! She can barely take care of herself. So, she does the only reasonable thing an ex costumed super villain can think of. She puts her baby up for adoption and never mentions it to Nightwig.

Danny is adopted by the Fentons who raise him as their own until he hits about fifteen or sixteen years old. Finally, he manages to tell them that he's Phantom only the reaction isn't one that he was wanting or expecting even. Instead of either accepting him or forcing him onto a dissection table to tear him apart molecule by molecule, they simply tell Danny to leave.

He isn't their son anyway let him do whatever but they don't want some ghost boy in their house. Maybe this is also when Danny finds out he's adopted too

Now, Danny goes on a search for his birth parents to find out about why they gave him up, who they are and all that jazz. but Danny Doesn't really know where to even start looking.

Somehow he winds up on the JL's radar maybe they see him flying around and take him in for questioning. Regardless, whenever Danny changes to his human form, everyone is immediately concerned because why does this kid look like Nightwing when he was a child? So they secretly do a DNA test on the kid and find that he's the son of Dick Grayson himself.

Now Dick finds himself with a son he never knew he had, and Danny finds himself with a birth father who didn't even know his existence and the two go on a search to find out who his mom is together.

Go wherever you want with this, just someone take this idea from me, I have too many wips as it is

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *25*

Everything hurts. It hurts! It hurts so much! Ithurtsithurtsomuchpleasemomstophisheartwi-

He can't feel anything.

He is floating and thank the Ancients, he can't feel a thing.

It takes quite some time he thinks until he feels something again. Phantom is in the ghost zone. But Danny was just in his parents lab - ithurtssomuchdadstopplease! - but now Phantom is here...

After some time he realized that he feels different, even though he can't explain why. But he didn't have much time, Jazz was probably worried sick. He needed to get home.

He found the portal without a problem and flew through. But the panic set in as soon as Phantom saw the lab. Instinctual he was going invisible and intangible. Danny died here. There is no Danny anymore, just Phantom.

After his panic attack he spots other ghosts. Mostly Blobs and Animals. Some already vivisected, some just in cages. But he also finds Boxlunch. Just bound to his death spot the operation table. She wasn't hurt yet. He quickly frees everyone and takes the injured Ghost to the Far Frozen.

This was going on for weeks. Just Phantom trying to rescue the other Ghosts from his parents lab and later from the GIW labs. The Fentons started to work full-time for them.

But then they moved bases. Away from Amity Park. Just far enough that he couldn't reach them anymore, without burning through all of his ectoplasm and then some.

But they had kidnapped Desiree, Technus and a few more Ghosts! And he needed to safe them!

He remembers some rumors he heard in the Zone. In Gotham exist a Revenant. The Avenger of the unavenged. The Red Hood. And with the Infini-Map he could find a natural portal to Gotham. It was a long shot, but his last hope.

So he flys invisible through the dark streets of Gotham, frantically searching.

Jason was about to throttle his family, every single one of them at the same time. He was already trying to punch the Demon Brat, when a white haired, floating teen with Lazarus green eyes materializes in front of him.

The teen completely ignored the Bats and zeroed in on Red Hood with a look of desperate hope.

"My parents killed me and they are killing more of my friends"

[scionshtola]

6. Who was their Azem? What were they like, and were they different from your WoL? Who were their family, friends? Or, if you don’t care for the Azem angle or went in your own direction for their past self, how so? How does your WoL feel about their Ancient identity? (x)

Dies's main love in life is adventure. Similar to Corisande, she always wanted to travel and see what was out there, beyond the familiar. Unlike Corisande, she is very outgoing, prone to taking risks, puts her love for adventure above the people in her life at times, and can be rather flighty. She was closest to her mentor Venat, and had a short-lived romantic relationship with Hermes prior to becoming Azem, but broke up with him in order to focus on her travels. Despite this she was still fond of him as well as Meteion, and it hurt her to see how he changed after the events in Ktisis.

Corisande doesn't feel very connected to Dies. They are each their own person, and their relationships to Venat and Hermes are their own. They don't think about Dies much.

[lehana37]

Okay okay I love this and let me add onto the supervillain theories with an absolutely worried Barry Allen in street clothes sitting in a nearby booth in a coffee shop.

He’s been tailing this teen for two(ish) days now and so far he’s seemed mostly benign, just doing tourist shit. But today he’s met up with some apparent friends and that’s when things have taken a turn for the worst.

He only tuned out for a minute he promised! It’s just, they’re so utterly normal. Adolescent. Their conversation is about summer homework and how tired they are and how has Danny been enjoying his vacation so far and honestly? Barry felt weird. Maybe it wasn’t really this kids journal, sure the kid felt�� off. Weird. But listening in on a trio of teens just shooting the shit after following one of them for over a day feels like stalking. A child. Morally? Feels gross to him, but he promised Bats he would keep an eye on him after bringing the book to the league and he’ll be damned if he’s defeated by a little social awkwardness but apparently he has been. He’s clearly missed a vital part of the conversation while contemplating his feelings because he only checked back in when he overheard (Tuck? That’s the kids name right? Probably a nickname but until he gets the chance to run facial recognition from the nearby security cameras Tuck it’ll have to be) anyways, he heard Tuck(?) say “at least you have superpowers!” Before being violently elbowed by the honestly impressively goth girl. (Sam? That sounds right)

And, well. What? Superpowers? Oh dear lord does the kid who has horrifyingly detailed notes on them (labeled volume 4) have superpowers? That’s concerning. Maybe not all is lost? He could be an aspiring vigilante? Of course they’ll have to talk him out of it or scoop him up and train him but that’s still a highly preferred option to this kid becoming one of his rogues, he doesn’t look a day over 15 (even if he friends appear a few years older) and frankly he doesn’t know the kids powerset but it’s probably something to be worried about if he’s a villain trying to set up shop in a well known hero’s city with multiple flashes all running about and other rouges to compete with. So! Baby vigilante! That would really be the best solution for everyone he just prays to god it’s accurate. Thank god he could (mostly) convince himself of that in the beats between seconds because it would’ve been incredibly embarrassing to miss any more of the conversation after such an important information drop. Not to mention Batman’s reaction. Lectures for sure. Probably monitor duty, but on the watchtower and not of the kids which would be deeply frustrating seeing as they’re in his city.

The Goth- Sam hardly misses a beat before “Everything has it’s price.” Barry finds himself slightly startled at the wisdom in it knowing better than most what the price of superpowers can be, both receiving and then deciding what to do with them.

“The Price was paid.” Tuck doesn’t miss a beat which tracks for what he’s seen of them, they’ve been very quippy all day.

“No it wasn’t, it’s the gift that keeps on fucking taking,” glad to hear that the kid is weighing on his own apparent superpowers (!!!) even if it’s a deeply concerning addition.

“Hey Danny,” Sam starts, “it’s okay it’s-“

“No it’s not. It’s not okay Sam because,” Wow, Barry can’t help but think to himself, a little breathless at the goldmine he’s probably just stumbled over, that’s a lot of emotion to be showing publicly in a random coffee shop at three in the afternoon but hey good for him. “This price- I know you don’t want to think about it but this is a price I’ll always pay.” Danny reaches out, he was sitting across the booth from his friends, and cups their faces but his hands- hold up. His hands look a little more like- like claws. What the fuck? Barry guesses his power is some sort of transformation then but it’s kind of extremely terrifying to see claws on still normal human flesh hands, the hands themselves have changed not just the nails. It’s upsetting to witness in an Otherwise Ordinary coffee shop. Not quite uncanny valley, that’s not the right word but also- also not not uncanny valley. He’s not sure he would’ve noticed if hadn’t already been paying Very Close Attention because no one else is reacting and that’s frankly the worst part.

The claws have started pricking the two’s faces, not quite drawing blood but if they moved at all they probably would, Barry would’ve stood up if he could but he felt transfixed, this conversation felt so weighted for all that it’s been naught a few sentences yet. Minutes? Hours? He’s been sliding in and out so much he for sure couldn’t tell you but either way he didn’t rush up and Barry is glad for it a second later when all the kids do is tilt their heads slightly, leaning more into his palms slightly in such a collected move it can be nothing but practiced. A comfort. Danny starts speaking again, or maybe he never stopped and Barry jolts, “I’m going to outlive you both, and one day I’ll have to be the one to put you in the ground.”

Well. Damn. There go his hopes of this kid not being a villain because there’s no way that isn’t a threat. Their body language is still comfortable but there’s no telling if that’s actually the kids power. Contact enforced? Maybe the claws are a side effect of exerting his will? No telling.

“You’ll make sure our graves are neighbors won’t you? Bury our bodies out in the woods? Our favorite spot?” Sam hardly hesitated at the mood change before shooting this back so clearly they aren’t dosed into compliance but- but what? That’s such- he doesn’t want to say unhinged but definitely a morbid thing to say. Codependent too if there’s any truth to it but it’s probably just teen humor in action. He hopes. It’s goth either way so he can understand why she’d be the one to say it.

Tuck quips back immediately, “I think I’d like a shared grave even if you have to dig one of us up to put us together again.” Okay! Okay. So either the humor is catching or they’re together?

“You think you won’t die together?” There’s humor in Danny’s tone as he (finally) drops his cla- hands? They’re hands again. Well either way they’re wrapped around his mug again and not on his friends faces so Barry will count it as a win. He studies the threat’s child’s face again and he looks faux scandalized. Well, that at least probably means the other two are a couple even if it definitely means this child is a budding supervillain because that at least HAS to be a threat, no way. Maybe some kind of- of social Stockholm? They’re clearly not being held captive but they seem to like him well enough even if he’s being absolutely awful. Danny flashes them a grin and it’s a quicksilver thing, a glimpse of a fang peeking out and damn that wasn’t there before was it? He’s been stalking tailing the kid for two days how did he miss this?

Sam snorts. “C’mon Danny, be realistic. You know who we are, our will. What we’re like. And we know you. Our level of contamination won’t ever be the same but we’re closer to you than we are the barista and you know it.” Might he repeat: what the hell? What does that even mean? He does not like the implications of the word contamination though, are they safe to be around? They’re kids either way and he’ll help them. Even if Daniel Fenton seems dead set on the path of villainy (with his apparent four (4!) books of horrors and detailed notes on the various heroes) maybe these kids aren’t too deep? He’s always had a strange relationship with his rouges so he’s sure he can do it, steer these kids away from the path of villainy.

“Our bodies will be six feet under one day,” Tuck finishes her sentence, “but what’re the chances either of us actually stay there?” Oh. Oh. Barry doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like that implication one little bit, actually. Although to be perfectly honest he’s not quite sure what the implication is besides bad.

At that point the kids all share a secretive smile and things go back to normal. They switch back to small talk and the very air feels lighter for it even if his heart feels heavier. He’s not- he’s not sure how to handle this. He knows he needs to go report, tell someone but- but not yet. They look so carefree even if he knows they could do a lot of damage just by selling the kids notes but- well. He’s not sure what the but is but it can’t hurt to just take a minute. An hour. He may be the fastest man alive but surely it can’t hurt to slow down for just a bit. Besides, maybe they’ll start talking again. Yeah that’s it, that’ll be a good justification, even if only to himself.

Dc x Dp Prompt #24

I love how no one talked about the possibility of Danny being the "Izuku Midoriya" of the Dp x Dc Crossover. And by that, I mean a total hero fan with books filled to the brim about information for every hero he ever knows.From their abilities to all the top fights they've had against villains. Martian Manhunter has the most of course, though Red Hood has become a close second.

Now, imagine Danny going to any of the towns in his human form and losing one of said notebooks, with the city hero right behind him as he did. Picking it up and reading it, it is thought that Danny was some upcoming supervillain and needed to be kept an eye on with how well he managed to study them. Meanwhile, Danny is curious as to where one of his notebooks went. And why does he suddenly feel like he's being watched?

[targaryen-dynasty]

congrats on the 2k!! ❤️❤️ can i request meleys #26 for daemon pls? 🫶🫶🫶

DON‘T THREATEN ME WITH A GOOD TIME.

Part 2

CEO!Daemon Targaryen x female Reader

“i wanna fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it”

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTACT—MINORS DNI; p in v, (semi) public sex, modern AU

WORDS: 1 K

NOTES: I really said "a very short drabble" lmfao and here I am giving you 1K words. The end is abrupt, but this would have been 5K words long if I hadn't stopped. I won't beta these drabbles!

Let's celebrate my milestone!

Daemon might have undone the zipper at the back of your short, black dress, but he hasn’t lowered it more than having the top of it pool around your waist. He hasn’t bothered opening your bra, and has merely tugged the flimsy fabric down to allow your breasts to spill over the black lace. 

“Want to fuck you right against the glass so everyone can see how good you take it, bunny,” he rasps into your ear, pressing his chest flush against your back to pin you to the floor-to-ceiling window of his office that overlooks the busy financial district of King’s Landing. 

Though the gold glass hitting your exposed breasts has you gasping at first, you can't deny the thrill of excitement darting up your spine. “Don’t threaten me with a good time,” you hum, biting your bottom lip as you feel his large hands push the skirt of your dress up. 

“Is that so?” he drawls, the amused tint in his voice prompting you to huff. 

The sound of him loosening the zipper in the front of his slacks is drowned out by how loud your heart beats in your ears, and you’re merely reminded that he’s done so as you feel his calloused fingers tug your panties to the side to align his hard cock with your pussy. 

“Have you–” The rest of your sentence dies on your tongue with his thick cock breaching your tightness, the words replaced by a wanton moan. 

You feel his forehead resting against the side of your head, but with your cheek pressing against the window, you’re immobilized and can’t even catch a glimpse of him from over your shoulder, only feeling his hot breath caress your skin.

It’s good he doesn’t pound into you straight away, his heavy breathing and trembling hips indicating he needs a short moment to adjust just as much as you, because it gives you the chance to voice what hasn’t left your lips before. 

You take in a deliberate breath, pressing your lips into a thin line before they part again. “Have you locked the door?”

Though he’s buzzing with arousal, enjoying the feeling of you clenching around him, his mind is still very much clear and not as hazy as yours, allowing him to scoff and mock your attempt to maintain decorum. “Didn’t I say I want everyone to know?” he hums, bringing both paws to your hips to keep you steady and still. “That also applies to my employees.”

There’s no chance for you to reply, because the moment he snaps his hips up into yours, every coherent thought flies straight out the window with his cock brushing your sweet spot.

Your palms are pressed flush against the glass, and you completely rely on him to keep you upright and supported. “God, fuck,” you pant, screwing your eyes shut. 

He squeezes your hips tight enough to surely leave some bruises in the following hours, and it’s clear as day that he’s merely using you as a means to an end, to satisfy the desperate need of having something he alone could control. 

It’s the fact that even after his older brother has conceded the executive chair to him, Viserys still gets involved to the point his younger brother truly doubts his leadership qualities. 

And if this is one way for him to cope with it, you certainly won’t complain. 

“Such a good, little slut for me,” he grunts, each thrust pushing you up against the window. “Taking me so fucking well. Getting all worked up just thinking about someone seeing us, mh, seeing how good I’m fucking you.”

Releasing a shaky whimper, you arch your back and start to grind your hips back and forth, meeting him halfways. 

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, and you meekly shake your head despite the truth in his words. It does turn you on. “N-No,” you pant, closing your eyes as you feel the flush blossoming on your cheeks. 

Daemon scoffs yet again, and serves a harsh slap to your ass that catches you by surprise. “You’re dripping, bunny,” he mocks, the lilt of confidence and authority in his voice sending a new wave of arousal to ooze out of your cunt and trickle down his cock and heavy balls. Since he has lowered them barely enough to free himself, most of your essence is caught by the dark fabric. “I’m afraid my assistant will have to get me a new pair of pants once I’m done with you.”

He proceeds to snake his hand between your body and the glass, rubbing your clit with his nimble index and middle fingers. 

“You’re gonna cum for me, sweet thing?” He presses his chest against your back again, and dips his head forward to capture your earlobe between his teeth. It’s a grazing touch, but still has goosebumps prickling on your skin. “Daddy wants to fuck you on his desk next.”

The coil inside of you tightens quickly with all sensations hitting you at once, and you’re once again surprised by how well Daemon knows your body, strumming it like a fiddle and always getting what he wants. 

You convulse all over him with a mewl, the grinding of your hips stopping as the white, hot pleasure becomes too much. But his thrusts don’t stutter or slow down, keeping the intensity to the point you’re losing your mind. 

“That’s it,” he coos through gritted teeth. “Show everyone the pretty face you always make when you’re soaking my cock.” You’re not sure whether it’s his fingers still toying with your clit, his cock still snapping in and out of you, or if his praise alone is enough to prolong your orgasm, but you feel yourself keening at his words. 

With a few more thrusts, bringing you to the point of overstimulation, he reaches his own release, twitching cock spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. And while you thought he’s done, considering he’s panting behind you like a mad man, you’re surprised when he pulls out and turns you on your heels. 

“Clothes off, and on the desk,” he rasps, taking a step back to allow you to move while he loosens his tie. When you don’t comply quick enough, he raises his brow. “Or do you want me to do it for you, bunny? But then you’ll have to go home naked.”

Daemon Taglist: @barbiedragon @schniiipsel

Small Taglist: @heimtathurs @valeskafics @black-dread @watercolorskyy @darylandbethfanforever9 @hypocritic-trash-baby @connorsui @moonlightfoxx @snowystark @fan-goddess @lovelykhaleesiii

[ghostfacesvalentine]

HALLOWEEN DAY 24: Bunny butt - Jason Todd x fem!reader

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader NSFW!

Warning: Some cursing, sneaking around, fingering, butt play, not much I think.

Type: Blurb

Request: N/A

Word count: N/A

Prompt: Jason sneaks by readers house for Halloween. She shows him what her costume would be if she went to a party tonight and ends up bent over his knees. NSFW!

Notes: Yeah shut up I know

Your father never approved of you going out and about, especially during the night here in Gotham. You were old enough, sure, but you still lived under his roof, he spoiled you rotten and you just didn’t want to fight it. You always wondered what it would be like to go out on Halloween night. Going to parties and bars was so otherworldly to you and you weren’t going to start this year. On top of your father’s disapproval of going out unchaperoned, he absolutely detested Jason. Instead of the awkward fighting and bickering between both of them, Jason opts to sneak in through your unlocked window, specifically for him.

You were already tucked away in pink satin pajamas underneath your fluffy bedspread watching the exorcist before 11. Your boyfriend hadn’t texted you, you knew about his double life and always tried to be understanding about his lack of quick responses.

The loneliness was loud and clear, you selfishly wanted Jason all to yourself, but you knew you had to share him with the rest of Gotham.

After a few minutes of the background noise coming from the TV, you heard the familiar sound of the window sliding open. Jason climbed through the opening, silently landing at his feet with a boyish smile. “What? No Halloween party?” He asked in a quiet voice, he noticed your father’s car was home, but he couldn’t resist seeing you. Without mentioning it to you, he called in a favor to sabotage your father’s workplace enough to have him take off.

You rolled your eyes at the question, sitting upright and swinging your legs over the bed to head over to greet your boyfriend. He picked you up with ease, you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding his face as you pressed your lips against his. He still kept you in the same position, kissing you again and again, silently giggling with you when you couldn’t help but smile. Jason kept his grip on your legs, walking back over to your bed “is your door locked?”

“Always”

“Good girl.” He murmured as he kissed the top of your head, setting you down at the corner of your bed slowly.

“So what are you doing tonight? Besides staying in. You’re not even dressing up?” Jason looked to the screen before your bed, silently snorting at the ridiculous film.

You rattled your brain trying to come up with a believable answer, but if you were honest, you really didn’t have a plan. “Well, I have my bunny costume from a few years back, my dad told me to get rid of it, but I just never wore it again. That was my plan if I got to a party but-“

You froze in your sentence when you felt two green eyes glow with envy at the words that came out of your mouth.

“Let me see.” Was all he interrupted your sentence with. A small laugh came over you until you realized he was being serious. “Don’t be mean Jay-“ you whined, to which he kept his same expression, simply looking at you as you lazily protested. You knew this was a fight you weren’t going to win, to which caused you to do just as he said.

Your closet was decorated in all kinds of pastel pinks, some black, but as Jason would put it, it seemed like a princess lived there or a princess died and you inherited everything. You dug through all your clothes, mainly the ones that weren’t your favorites and pulled a white bunny outfit together with sheer white tights and a white body hugging bodysuit. To compliment the outfit, you added some thigh high tights. You had the ears in a box full of miscellaneous items.

When you were ready, you came to Jason, all dolled up and even spun around for him a few times. His silence was making you nervous. “I never thought I’d live to see the day that I think I agree with your dad.” He joked, his eyes eating you alive as he looked down to your figure. Your cheeks felt the warmth as he inspected you, you avoided his eyes for a moment that felt for hours. “Come here baby.”

Reluctantly, you walked over to your boyfriend, standing in front of him in between his legs. His hands grabbed your wrists, pulling you down to lay over his knee. You didn’t have time to react, now only feeling the pressure on your belly pressing in by his knee. You didn’t know what to say, you knew Jason to be adventurous in the bedroom but you were far from experienced. Of course you trusted that he would stop the minute you were uncomfortable, that was a given, but you were still shy about trying anything new.

“Jay- my dad’s home-“ you murmured, weakly attempting to get up only to have his hand press you back down “Relax, he’s back at work for the night. I say we have around two hours before he gets back.”

Still unsure, your body tingled at the feeling of his hand gliding around your curves. His fingers danced around the more delicate parts of you, gliding across your clothed folds. You whimpered at the feeling, it has been days since Jason touched you and you hated to be so long without him that you were willing to overlook the fact that your father could or could not be home. You trusted Jason to never get you in trouble like this, only feeling his digits find your most sensitive nub.

Jason kept his agonizing movements, gliding across your clothed sex, then back around your asscheek. Your eyes widened when you felt an abrupt sting across your ass. You didn’t expect to moan at the slap and you didn’t have to look back to know Jason was smiling ear to ear at the fact that you liked it. His hand rubbed the stinging area slowly, letting you catch your breath for a second before he raised his hand again and smacked your ass, this time catching a bit of your clothed pussy as well. Another moan, this time louder, escaped your lips. Before you could say anything, he did it again, then again and again.

You felt the uncomfortable wetness against your clothes, rubbing your knee’s together to get some kind of relief. “That’s my girl.” You heard Jason call out to you, his hand rubbing your stinging cheeks for a few moments before gliding up and down your clothed folds. Suddenly you felt a tear in your tights, of course they were thin, but the sound of the tear was replaced by a soft groan coming from Jason when his fingers felt the warm arousal troubling your panties.

“Fuck.” He murmured under his voice, dragging his fingers along the puffed up outline of your pink sex before plunging two thick fingers into you. He went knuckles deep into you, causing your hips to jolt, closing your eyes as they rolled back in pleasure. He pumped his fingers in and out, slowly at first to get all your juices flowing.

Motivated by your whimpers, he pushed the rest of your bodysuit aside from the area he was focused on. Twisting his fingers, he stuck a thumb into your tight asshole after soaking it in your juices for easier friction. A louder moan escaped your lips. You couldn’t see him right now, but he was completely enamored with you, how you let him do whatever, how easily you trusted him.

He curled his fingers, still pumping them in and out of you, smirking at your jolting hips and swaying legs. His thumb only going in deeper to your second hole, this time grabbing you by your lower half with his hand half gone into your lusting body.

The feeling was obscene, the sight was pornographic, but you were completely in bliss as you were a slobbering wet mess. His free hand slithered over to your face, your mouth open with the inability to stay quiet, Jason shoved his index finger into your mouth, swiping it across your tongue. “Suck”

And just like that, you entertained him. Starting to suck on his middle finger as he added to your mouth. That didn’t stop him from adding a third finger into your pussy, another slobbering moan escaped your lips. The more you tried to move your hips away from him, the more he pushed down on you, pumping his fingers in and out. You felt a fuzzy sensation in your core, your folds tightened around his fingers, white stars invading your closed eyes as you felt your juices squirt out of you and into his lap and fingers. “That’s my good girl, fuck.” He murmured still pumping fingers in and out, this time slower. “Maybe I should get you a bunny tail buttplug” he half laughed as you came down from your first orgasm of the night.

[luvrxbunny]

winter wonderland

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader 

Prompt: Strip Club

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, piv, unprotected sex (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 2.9k

A/N: uhh idk i kinda feel like i have to have an author's note? Idk what to say tho (not proofread) and um. ily guys <3 

Bucky walks around his club, admiring his dancers- not sexually, never in that way. He admires them for their discipline, strength, and determination, he couldn’t do half the things they do on the pole, all with a smile and trying to look appealing to the hungry gaze of the men in the audience. He makes sure everything is ready for tonight, he just expanded to a new area and this is his grand opening. He hired some new talent, a new bartender, and spared no expense on alcohol, lights, and outfits for his girls.

He walks past the practice room and hears music blaring inside, a slow sultry, rock-esk song. He turns to see a group of girls standing by the window, watching whatever’s happening inside the room. “Psst.” He gets the attention of one of the girls, Fawn. “What’s happening in there?” He keeps his voice low, a hushed whisper to not distract the other girls and Fawn’s face lights up in excitement. “Oh my god, Winter. You haven’t met her?!” Her New York accent is thick with shock. 

He feels a bit embarrassed at her reaction and she’s right, he should’ve met her by now but he’s been too busy. His expansion took him away from being hands-on more than he had accounted for, he had to outsource hiring to Cheetah. He gives her a shrug and prompts her to keep talking. “Well, she’s new to the scene, a cute little thing, nice little schtick she’s got going on.” He nods as she speaks, taking in her little pieces of information. “She- You know what? No. Go meet her! You were there for my audition, the poor girl hasn’t even seen you yet.”

He looks at her with his eyes wide, surprised at how she’s commending him, someone who’s technically her boss. “Okay, Fawn. Tone down the spice.” He scoffs at her with a smirk before opening the door, her cackle-like laugh fading out as he enters the room. Your music takes over his ears, a harsh beat, mechanical type of song. When he looks up you’re nothing like he expected. You have baby pink lingerie on, bunny ears sprouting from your head, soft white cuffs on your wrists and ankles with jewels littering your body. Your eyes are closed, your bottom lip tucked beneath your teeth, your brows furrowed in concentration as you spin, flip your body, and slide down the pole, showing off the little tuft, your bunny tail, at the base of your spine. 

Your eyes are still shut lightly as you flip again, your feet planted on the ground as you walk around the pole slowly. There’s an irresistible arch in your back and you keep your toes pointed as they touch down on the ground. You spin yourself around, a ballerina spin before unhooking your leg and repositioning your hand for a carousel spin, showing yourself off. The song ends and you slowly drop yourself to the ground, sitting pretty with your hands still on the pole while the music dies out. You flop back onto the floor, panting from exertion with a smile on your face and your eyes still closed. 

He just stares at you for a moment, your skin glistening with sweat, your chest heaving, and his dick pressing desperately against the fabric of his pants. 

He never reacts to his dancers like this, it’s always purely appreciative, of their art and the work they put in. He knows the business inside out, he’s seen the struggle his dancers go through to keep their bodies appealing, to master certain moves. He’s never been able to see the arousal of it since seeing the inner workings, it’s like watching a workout video to him. Your dance though, the way you move, your outfit, the stark contrast between your aesthetic and the song, something about it all seemed to be a perfect storm for him. He’s buzzing with want. He wants you. 

You’re still panting on the ground, your breaths beginning to even out some more when he speaks up. “That was impressive.” You shoot up into a seated position, your breaths quickening again in fear. Your eyes land on him and you stand up, covering your body slightly as you back up, standing behind the pole like it could help you, the action brings a soft smile to his face. “Who are you?”

He walks towards you, taking his hands from his pockets and holding them up in surrender. You back up even further and notice the window in the practice room, and how many girls are giggling on the other side. You jump and look back at him frantically- seemingly surprised at how many people had been watching you. “Calm down, honey. I’m Winter, this is my club.” Your back straightens and your hands drop to your sides before settling behind your back and you half bow to him before standing up straight and shaking your head at yourself.”Oh-! Hell- Hi, sir. I- My name is B- well, I go by Bunny.” 

You have a soft, nervous smile and your eyes keep darting to the girls in the window, gawking at the interaction. “Nice to meet you, Bunny. Would you like to come to my office?” You breathe out a sigh of relief and nod at him desperately before rushing to his side, following him out of the practice room and into his office.

He gives you a large coat he had on a rack in the corner of his office with a chuckle before walking around to sit on his side of the desk. “Sorry, I don’t have something nicer for you. I usually have these really nice bath towel type things? But I uh- I left them at my other location so…” He trails off awkwardly and smooths his hands over his desk. He looks up at you and you’re just staring at him with a little amused smirk on your face. “What?”

You giggle at him, leaning forward as you laugh and he tries not to stare at your cleavage. “You’re- You seem awfully nervous for like- a strip club owner.” He actually belly laughs at that, it shoots from his chest, shocking to his own ears when he hears him. His laughs die down before your giggles and his chest warms at the sound, along with his cock as the rest of his blood rushes south. “To be honest, Bunny. I think that’s just you.” You laugh even more at that and it stabs his ego for a moment. 

“I’m the only one who thinks that? I mean- It could be just how I’m seeing the situation but-” He tries not to laugh at your misunderstanding. “No, Bunny.” He cuts you off. “You’re the only one who makes me nervous.” Your rambling stops short, your back straightens again and his jacket begins to fall off your shoulders, exposing a bit more of your outfit. His eyes can’t help but dart down to take the sight in. It stabs him with arousal, he takes a sharp breath and leans back in his chair, spreading his legs to give his cock more room to grow, filling and fattening up for you. 

“M-me? Cus- Is it like- because you- because we haven’t met before or..?” Your eyes dart around the room and your breathing is picking up. He can see your hips wiggling in the seat, either grinding into it or pressing your legs together- his new position takes his view from your lower half. His eyes trail up your body before meeting yours. “That’s not why, sweetheart.” You shake your head lightly with a little breath of disbelief. You have a questioning look in your eyes, like you truly believe that he’s lying or you’re completely misreading the situation. 

“I mean-” You gain a cocky smirk, like you’ve finally figured out what’s really happening. “I’m a stripper, it’s kinda my jo-ob” You have a little tune in your voice, sing-songy, like it’s a joke. His face is straight when you look back up to him, not finding one hint of amusement in his eyes. 

“Actually.” He sits back up in his chair, clasping his hands over his desk and leaning into you. “I find it harder to understand the- the more erotic side of stripping. Your work is artistic to me, I’m generally indifferent to all my dancers but-” His breathing shudders as he recalls your dance. “Something about your-” His mouth gapes as he tries to pinpoint what it is exactly that’s affecting him so much but he can’t think of just one. “You. Something about you is- seems to be affecting me.”

His eyes trail up your body and stop on yours as he finishes his sentence. There’s something so penetrating about his gaze, you can feel yourself heating up under it, a tingle growing between your legs and your panties beginning to dampen. You’re still cautious though, for all you know he could do this with every dancer. “You don’t usually—?” He cuts you off before you can even finish your question. “Never.”

You look him over, taking in his features and deciding whether he’s lying or not. You look in his eyes and they look… truthful. So you lunge for him, crashing his lips into yours, earning a shocked moan from his lips as his large hand comes up to hold your head in place. You lean closer to him, trying to get as close as possible until the desk begins to dig into your ribcage. You separate from him with a moan, a dissatisfied whine falling from his lips until he sees you rushing to his side of the desk, immediately seating yourself in his lap and connecting your lips back to his. 

His hands are on your hips with a groan as he instantly grinds up into you, pressing his hot bulge against your clothed clit. You moan into his mouth, detaching your lips to watch the way his hips move against you, how his hands dig into your hips and grind you onto his cock. His head is thrown back and he’s moaning a bit louder than you would’ve expected, you’re drinking them up. You look back at him and arch your back, leaning to him and changing the angle of your hips over his cock. You kiss at his chin, whining against his bottom lip as he assaults your clit. 

The fabric of the lingerie is creating so much friction against your clit, it feels good until it borders on painful, almost rubbing you raw with the rough material until he sticks his hand through the side of your panties, gathers all your nectar that’s been resting at the entrance of your hole and spread it all over your pussy, bringing that perfect slickness back to your clit and winning himself a moan of “Winter” against his neck. 

He grunts at your outburst and brings his hands back to your hips. “Bucky, sweetheart. Call- shit. Call me, Bucky, baby.” You whine louder into his neck, insanely turned on by the fact that he trusts you with his real name and wants you to moan it for him. You’re too in your head though, mulling over your own thoughts, in the clouds to comply with his wishes. He thinks it’s because he’s not giving you enough so he backs your hips up. 

Your head is buried in his neck and you whine at the loss of movement. You peek your head back to see what he’s doing and watch him fumble with his underwear, jeans already undone and unzipped, his hand now down his pants, jerking himself quickly before pulling it out. Your hips tilt to him subconsciously once his cock is out, red, leaking, and throbbing for you. You can already imagine how deep he’ll go, how sore you’ll be after, and how you won’t be able to think of anything but him while you dance for other men. 

You lunge for his lips again as your hand reaches down for his cock, your fingers overlapping with his as you wrap your hand around his tip, forcing his out of the way as you slide down his shaft. He moans into your lips and brings his hand to the back of your head, holding your face to his lips more aggressively as his hips begin to thrust into your hand rhythmically. You pull back and consider letting him cum like this. The sight is something to behold, his shirt slightly lifted, showing off his happy trail to his unzipped jeans, his cock, big, pink, and pulsing in your hand with his eyes squeezed shut and moans spilling from his lips. You almost let him cum like that. 

But then his thrusts change into a swivel, fucking himself into your hand languid and passionately and you’re suddenly jealous of your fist. So you let go, pull your panties aside, and seat yourself on his cock before he can even process what’s happening. His eyes shoot open with a yelp and one hand comes to grip your hip painfully while the other slams down on the desk before running over his face and through his hair. “D- hmmm.” He breathes out a frustrated breath of air that sounds like a groan. “I’m trying to last for you, Bunny. I don’t do this.” His hand loosely gestures between the two of you.

You’re nodding at him, half understanding what he’s saying but most of your strength is trying to stop your pussy from fluttering around him due to the intense stare he’d holding you with as he reprimands you. You breathe a sigh of relief and immediately start bouncing on his cock once he’s done talking. His eyes roll back and his hands grip your hips, trying to keep them down but not having enough strength to stop the overwhelming pleasure you’re pummeling him with. “Bunny-” He says your name like a warning and his hand tenses over your hip, you would listen if you weren't so far gone. 

His cock has been pressed against your G-Spot since you dropped yourself on him. Your legs are too weak to push yourself off his cock far enough to rearrange him so you’ve just been fucking him into that spot again and again, unable to escape the pleasure. Your eyes are permanently on the ceiling, almost rolled back and your mouth open, letting ruined moans fall from your lips like a siren song. You’re calling to him, begging him with your sounds to take over and thrust himself into you, asking for him to fill your tight pussy. 

His hands tighten over your waist and grind you onto him as his hips begin to jump in his chair, fucking into you with a force that’s making you see stars. “Bucky! Th- there! Don’t stop, Bucky.” You wrap your arms around him and his hand comes to the arch of your back, holding your body against him. “Fuck. What’re you doin’ to me, doll? Gonna make me cum so hard.” His hand slides to your upper back as your head lifts from his neck, your dazed eyes fixated on his lips. “M’gonna cum so hard for you.” His hand pushes you into his lips with a moan, you’re able to catch the way his eyes roll back when your lips meet before yours slip shut. He whines into your lips as his thrusts become weaker, more frantic, and lose their pace. 

You pull away from him to moan into his mouth, unable to contain any sounds as he shoves you over the edge. Your body convulses, folding into his as you become a vice around him, choking his cock and forcing his orgasm to spew from his tip. It tears through him like a hurricane, every muscle tensing, his arms almost crushing you in their embrace as a painful groan shakes out of him and devolves into a whimper as your pussy coaxes more cum from his pulsing cock. 

Your hips are grinding into him mindlessly, overstimulating the both of you as your orgasms die down. Bucky is whining pathetically under you, begging you to stop, slow down, and calm down all with his hands still on your hips. Instead of stopping you though, he’s just resting them there, letting you take whatever you need from him with no resistance. 

Your hips eventually calm down, slowing to a stop over him, resting your head on his shoulder and basking in the silence of the room, in how his hand rubs over your back before pausing to draw random shapes. You’re drifting to sleep in his hold, humming contentedly when he presses kisses to the top of your head.

Someone knocks and opens his door without waiting got an answer. He spins in his chair around to hide your body from view. “What is the point of knocking if you’re not going to wait for an answer?” He speaks to the person in a sharp whisper. “Oh. My. God. I didn’t mean for you to get to know her like this! Jeez, boss.” Fawn. He turns slightly, only enough to see her and so she can see the serious look on his face. “Not a word to anyone.” She rolls her eyes and pulls his door shut with a snort. 

You start to writhe in his lap, groaning, and your brows furrow. He coos at you until you fall back into your deep sleep, a soft smile on his face when you bury your face in his neck and breathe out a soft exhale. He whispers soft words in your ear, rubbing over your skin to keep you warm until showtime. 

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed it, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works, and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[ellethespaceunicorn]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Well, it took me a couple of days but I did it!! Oh, and it's the longest drabble in the world. Did y'all know a drabble is only 100 words???? I thought it was 100-500...I still wrote way more than that, but still.

Title: No Good Deeds

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Landlord!Ari Levinson x Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Summary: Moving out on your own is challenging, but your landlord, Mr. Levinson is kind and helpful. But he may want more from you than your tenancy.

Prompt: Landlord!Ari + being caught watching you while you sleep

Warnings: age gap (Ari is mid-40s, Reader is early-20s), yandere Ari, drugging, non-con fingering (f receiving), non-con p-in-v intercourse, non-con creampie, choking, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: Hahahaha this was supposed to be a drabble. Thank you to @peyton-warren for the beta!

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

Moving out on your own isn’t exactly the easiest thing for you. You spent four years living in your college dormitory, but you always had at least one roommate. So, signing a lease and accepting the single set of keys was a huge accomplishment.

Your landlord, Mr. Levinson, is so great. He told you to call him Ari more than once. From the first tour of the apartment to the day of your move-in, he offers his help in many ways. Where the best farmer’s market is, how to reach him if you need any repairs, and even when the local bars close are just a few tidbits he leaves you with.

You get to know him a bit more during a block party one Saturday night. The two of you talk over cheap beer, tamales from Señora Cruz, smoked brisket from Mr. Lorenzo, and lasagna from Mrs. Di Paolo. Ari seems like he is lonely, and your kind heart can’t stand to see someone in need. 

Before you know what you are getting into, you agree to have a weekly tea date with him. It’s during one of those visits that you realize that something is a bit odd about Ari. He tries to cover up how he knows what cabinet you keep your tea in, but he makes up some dumb excuse that it would just be “the perfect spot”.

You excuse yourself to the bathroom as he busies himself with setting the tea, and when you come back, a steaming mug is waiting for you on a saucer on your coffee table. Usually, you make the tea, but Ari wanted to help out, and you had a long day at work, so you accepted.

“What is in this tea? It’s almost spicy,” you ask, taking another big gulp of the tea you don’t recognize.

“Is it spicy? Well, it does have ginger and cinnamon in it. Some chamomile, too. A little benzodiazepine in there,” Ari clambers on, trailing off at the end.

“D-did you say benzo…dia…zep,” you slur, reaching for Ari as you sit on the couch, but you end up passing out with your head in his lap.

When you come to, you struggle to remember what happened. Your heavy head pounds as you turn it to the side before putting the heel of your hand to your still-closed eyes.

“Take it slow, Bunny. You must’ve been really tired,” he consoles, from the other side of your bed.

“Mr. Levin-”

“Uhn uh. Call me Ari; no more of that Mr. Levinson polite shit, ok?” he swears for the first time in your presence.

“Um, Ari… What are you doing in my bedroom?” you ask, your mind a blank slate from earlier.

“Oh, Bunny. You invited me over for tea, and then you weren’t feeling well, and you asked me to stay until you felt better. Next thing I know, I’m carrying you in here because you fell asleep on me with that sweet little face of yours right in my lap,” he comforts, the knuckles of his hand sliding down your face before he boops your nose.

“Why do you keep calling me Bunny?” you mewl, still trying to get in control of all your limbs.

“When you sleep, you furrow your eyebrows and scrunch up your nose like a little bunny. It’s one of the cutest things you do,” he admires, his hand now moving down your neck and through the valley of your breasts to get to where your skirt rides up your thigh.

“Mr.-Ari…I think I feel better now; you don’t have to-” 

Your words are cut off when Ari reaches under your skirt, and you specifically remember having on panties earlier today, but his fingers are touching your tender pussy directly. Did he take off your underwear?

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Must’ve been all that time I spent rubbing your cute little cunt through those white cotton panties. God, those little moans you were making went straight to my cock, Bunny. Feel it,” he dares, grabbing your hand and resting it against the thick outline of his dick through his Wranglers. 

While your hand is on his length, he shoves two of his fingers into your wet heat. At first, you are surprised by the shock of it. But soon, you can tell that he knows how to work your body. You scream out his name, but he doesn’t stop. Instead, he shoves one hand over your mouth and gets close to your ear.

“You’re not gonna ruin this for me. You have been parading yourself around here like you’re some holier-than-thou sweet little thing. And I knew you’d end up letting me smash at some point. But I didn’t wanna wait anymore, Bunny. You have had me wrapped around that little finger of yours since you moved in. It’s time that I get what’s owed to me-what you’ve been flaunting in front of me,” he sneers, pulling his fingers out of you and sucking them clean before opening his pants and pulling his dick out.

He lines up with your sodden core before thrusting in with no grace or elegance. Slamming himself inside your tight snatch for the first time feels like he is splitting you in two. You’re no virgin, but you also don’t have much casual sex, so Ari’s thickness was a shock, to say the least.

“Sweet Bunny, you’re so tight. What a good girl! You’ve been waiting for me like I’ve been waiting for you, huh? Fuck, you’re like a fucking vice. You hear that, Bunny? Hear how that cunt loves it when I fuck it? Love that loud, sloshy pussy,” he beams, his wide hips between your legs making your joints hurt.

You’re in stunned silence as Ari uses your body to chase his release. Your mind is bringing up all the times it seemed like he was getting a little too close for comfort. All the times when he would talk to you about his divorce, or his current dating trend, or the fact that he once told you that a pretty thing like you belonged locked up in a tower for a prince to come and free you.

Did he think he was a charming prince?

“Oh, Bunny, fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer. Look at me; wanna see your eyes when I cum inside you,” he blurts, holding your face in his hands as you look into his dilated, hungry eyes. “Take it. Just. Like. That.” The last few words are punctuated with thrusts as he paints your walls with thick, milky ropes.

Once he closes his eyes, his hips remain still, and his forehead meets yours. This would be almost romantic if Ari didn’t make it beyond creepy by whispering how perfect you are and peppering kisses all over your face. His softening cock finally slips free from you, and you are happy to be empty until you feel the flow of his semen leaking from you. He notices your discomfort and mocks your whines as he pushes his jizz back into your swollen hole.

“Don’t worry, Bunny,” he starts, moving off of you to recline next to you, “Not gonna leave this bed ‘til you’re knocked up. As soon as you are, I’m gonna move you in with me. You are gonna be well taken care of, too. You are so perfect-every little thing about you. And when the baby comes, we are gonna be the perfect little family. You wouldn’t wanna ruin our family, right? You’re gonna be a good girl for me, huh?” he implores, holding your cheeks in his hand so your lips poke out a bit.

You nod while tears stream from your eyes, finding it hard to form words. But what would you have said? He seems to like you mostly silent; you haven’t uttered a single word since before he was inside you. It wasn’t too late to try, but it was too late to have hope; at least that’s what you told yourself.

“I don’t know about you, but I am starting to get hard again just looking at you. On all fours for me, Bunny. I know you got it in you,” he orders, no kindness in his voice.

You quickly scramble to get on your hands and knees for him and are happy that he is pleased with your speed. As he slides into your sensitive folds again, you grimace but hold in your noises of pain. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you hurt, even though what he is doing is traumatizing. He relishes in the gushy sounds your pairing makes and the mighty “oomph” you make when he wraps an arm around your neck and flattens you down to your belly.

He has you in a chokehold while his hips canter back and forth, plunging his length deeper and deeper inside you. When he hears you start to sputter and gulp in air, he removes his arm from around your neck and holds your face cheek-down on the bed.

“Look at her, taking my cock just like she should. You’ll be the prettiest little wife and mother, won’t you? Gonna keep you nice and round as much as I can. My perfect little Bunny…ugh, fuck,” he blurts, his release surprising him suddenly.

When he pulls out, he smacks your ass and lays down next to you while your life flashes before your eyes. He moves closer to you, readjusting your body to lay on top of his as he rubs your back. He kisses the top of your head in such a kind gesture that you feel your eyes stinging with unshed tears. 

You can’t even bring yourself to fully cry, the tears streaming down your face just to splash on Ari’s denim shirt. Forgotten and dried up to never be seen again.

A/N: This was supposed to be a drabble!!!!

**Tag List**

I also didn't know who to tag since this is the first time I wrote Ari.

[inexplicifics]

Oooh I will admit that the demonLambert/Milena one has me curious but also. Gweld/Serrit post-tournament has so much "I'm not worrying about this idiot but he better not be dead" potential that I adore *0*

So my darling @starbirdrampant prompted the demon Lambert thing, which promptly grew legs, as bunnies are wont to do:

Milena freezes in the corner of the stairway landing, barely even breathing, until the sound of footsteps dies away. Someone taking a trip to the privy, probably. She waits, still as stone with painfully-learned skill, until the footsteps sound again, going back the other way, and a door creaks and thumps. Then and only then does she venture further downwards. She reaches the basement without any further scares, and eases the heavy door open one fraction of an inch at a time, then closes it again behind her with the same painstaking care. Then and only then does she draw a taper and a tinderbox from her pocket, moving carefully in the darkness, and strike a light. She squints against the sudden flare, wincing, and waits until her eyes have adjusted before she continues forwards. The basement is a hall, lined with doors, but her goal is the final room, which holds a glowing circle of runes and a slumped figure contained within them. The figure straightens up as she steps into the room, glowing yellow eyes fixing on her. He looks almost like a man, apart from those eyes and a pair of short, sharp horns and the vicious claws on his hands in place of nails; he is naked to the waist, barefoot, wearing only a loose pair of trews that drape almost obscenely, not so much concealing the shape of his lower parts as enhancing it. Milena carefully keeps her eyes on his face, on the scars across one eyebrow and the oddly perfect lines of his dark beard. “You’re new,” the demon growls, voice full of gravel and threat. “Come to gawk, little bird? Or are you here to make a deal?”

[weepingtalecowboy]

Koholint wasn’t real

Fanfic prompt : you know how in link's awakening you wake up on an island that turned out to be the dream of the wind fish

That made me think that every character on Koholint was created and written by the dream god

It chose for Marin to fall in love with link

It chose to let her know that it was a dream

It chose to let the monster be somewhat aware of the dream

It chose for link to traverse the island and have to collect the instruments

It chose for link to see an appearance of it called the wind fish

It chose to make koholint disappear

It had full control

Every thought every single decision made by all characters

The god is the writer of the story

But if Marin appears in the war of eras how can it be

Because the god chose for her to appear and help win the war

It chose the stakes it chose the characters to appear

It already had chosen who lives and who dies in the war

It chose for link to realize that everyone around him was a dream

It chose to torture him with the knowledge that everyone is gone

It chose to keep sending link on adventure since he was created by the god

Every pain every injury

It chose for link to feel it to see the loss to feel the pain

It knew how he felt about it

They watched him suffer from it

He was as real as Marin

A tool for the narrative

The goddess knew his pain and even worse his very realization that he knew the goddess knew

The goddess decided for him

The goddess controls every thought , every decision

Every loss and every pain

Him knowing means she decided to let him know she knows all his feelings

For she can make him forget just as fast

She wanted him to know that the island koholint was gone because of him waking the wind fish

She chose all his adventures all his decisions

Even his questions for her

Even his hatred for her

His hatred for hylia was decided BY hylia

Every foe he fought was decided and scripted by hylia

Because he was as real as a dream

Even as eight other links appeared it was on her decision

And he realized in the moment she allowed him to realize

That she decided he wouldn’t know

She controlled legend just as much as she controlled the sun

She controlled dusk and echo as much as she controlled his life

She controlled her blood's destiny

She controlled everything related to him

Because Koholint wasn’t real

And he wasn’t either

Not since koholint or prior

Or legend realizing that he isn’t fucking real and then realized that the knowledge that he wasn’t real was decided by the goddess

And that hylia knows his pain personally because she creates it for him and the very knowledge was given to him by hylia for drama

And he really doesn’t want to be her favorite but also if he is boring she would lose interest in him and then he would cease to exist

Hylia a writer for real and her OC is Zelda

And her favorite is Legend

Because legend is a concept she gave life

Legend is a doll of her making

And also because torturing your favorite pet since they became a concept

Killing all off its kind then bringing one back to fight in a war then shove it back in a drawer

Making the little doll think that it was responsible for it

And then forcing it to interact with other people who have free will is hilarious

Even funnier if you make it think that all your other OCs have free will and let them be unaware of your influence

(We really should rescue her pet bunny and her other critters from her she is a horrible person… she a writer fr …girl leave the Zelda's alone they want agency or does she just not make them want agency and fix the problem while legend is having a mental breakdown she forced him to have)

The chain must feel so horrified by the reality of all their Zeldas being Hylia's dolls and lacking agency

Like WTF hylia

[artdcnaldson]

my former horseback rider ass is here with the switch!dodge mason agenda 🫡

so many fics about dodge teaching you about rodeoing and how to ride (which i fucking love don’t get me wrong hehe) but what about reader who also rides and competes? sort of enemies to lovers? maybe you’re a barrel racer and he’s a saddle bronc, so he likes to jab at your event and you jab at his.

although you’re not competing against each other directly, you see each other at basically every rodeo and have developed a wicked rivalry between you. truthfully, neither of you know how or why it started. you got along when you were younger, little kids stumbling around rings and playing in the dirt while your parents rode, but once you hit your teen years it was like a switch flipped. he started pulling on your pigtails and you were never gonna back down from that fight.

now, a few weeks post-graduation, you’re double checking your tack when in comes dodge fucking mason fresh off his bronc and still riding his adrenaline high.

“good luck out there with your little obstacle course,” he sneers at you.

“at least i’ll keep my braincells in tact instead of losing them all getting bucked off… or wait, you didn’t have any to begin with did you?” you roll your eyes.

you almost miss the way dodge’s eye twitches and his jaw clicks. maybe it’s the adrenaline, maybe whatever back and forth you two have been doing has just finally reached its breaking point. suddenly, he’s pulling you into the empty stall next to yours and crowding you against the wall. he grips your jaw and forces your eyes to meet his.

“you think you’re smarter than me, huh? you think you’re so slick, but i see the way you look at me. you’re as fucked up for me as i am for you.”

the dam breaks. his lips are on yours and his hands are everywhere, one grabbing your ass, the other snaking under your shirt. you’re returning his fervor with your own because as much as you hate to admit it, he’s right. you have been looking, you have been simmering every time he’s put his goddamn hat on some buckle bunny who doesn’t even know what a bridle is.

the hand on your ass moves to tease at the waistband of your jeans. ever the infuriating gentleman, he’s asking for permission. you grind your hips forward and he takes the hint, shoving his hand into your panties.

“fuck— already so wet for me, baby,” he breathes into your neck, where he’s been laving open mouthed kisses that make your head spin. you let your head thump against the wall behind you and moan as his fingers find your clit. he thinks he has you under his thumb, and in a way he does, but you’re not letting him win.

in an instant, you’re pushing forward and his back is hitting the wall on the other side of the stall. his eyes widen and his mouth falls open.

“aw dodge, you’re all fucked up for me?” you grin, gripping his now straining cock through his jeans and giving it a harsh squeeze. “you know what i think? i think you’re just like your broncs out there. i think you just need a good ride to calm you the fuck down.”

he’s panting now, the shift in his demeanor so clear and desperation suddenly written all over his face. he nods his head and a whimper escapes his lips. his big wet eyes search your face and you’re already unbuckling his belt, but you pause and raise a prompting eyebrow at him.

“i’ll— i’ll be good,” he whines. “i’ll be good for you, i fucking swear, just touch me, please touch me”

your grin widens, “see? was that so hard?”

oop this got so long but i need to put him in his place and have him put me in mine after ,,, sighhh power struggles <333

-🎀

i think you just need a good ride to calm you the fuck down

What if I just fucking DIED

sighhhhh dodge mason fucking around with pretty little thing that gives him attention at the rodeo. And you saw it, one time. The way he lead some skanky white trash girl into the backseat of his car. Shouldn’t have stayed as long as you did, but you watched him peel off the stupid, tight shirt she wore, mouth at her tits, grab her ass through her tight jeans with the bedazzled pockets.

You scoffed. Of fucking course that’s what he liked. Bimbos playing cowgirl Barbie.

And it’s fucking infuriating because he’s good. It would be easier if he had fumbling hands and couldn’t find your clit and didn’t set every single nerve of yours alight. But you’re aching for it— while he shoved you against the wall in the empty stall and rubbed at your clit, mouth searing and hungry against yours.

But you can’t let him have you that easy. He needs to fucking work for it. You’re not one of the girls he takes to his car, fucks, and leaves out to dry— you’re the grand prize.

He’s hard through his jeans, straining against the thick fabric. He bucks against your hand as you palm him and mouth at his throat. You have to make him beg— make him ask for what he’s so freely given all the time. To be a good boy and prove he deserves it.

Need him to sink to his knees and eat you out, his hands on your ass, guiding you to grind against his mouth and face. Make him prove he can get a girl off before he gets to sink into you, to fuck you nice and rough the way you like <3

Walking out of the stall after pretending like nothing happened, like he didn’t just cum in your mouth and he can’t still taste you on his tongue. Like you won’t have bruises shaped like his fingers on your hips.

[calaisreno]

A Tiny Bit Not Good

1559 Words / Prompt: Experiment

“I made you coffee.” 

Frowning, John turns and regards his flatmate. Sherlock never makes him coffee, tea, or anything else. And he’s smiling, which in itself is alarming—not that genuine smile that occasionally creeps through. It’s that creepy, sociopath smile.

“You never make coffee.”

“I just did. Don’t you like it?”

John takes a sip, only to be polite. “Ugh. I don’t take sugar.”

Disappointment pulls at the corners of Sherlock’s mouth. 

Well, no sense in letting a good deed go unrewarded. If encouraged, Sherlock might develop a habit of doing nice things. 

“It’s fine, Sherlock. I needed a pick-me-up.” John takes another sip. There’s a strange under-taste to the coffee. Probably decaf. “I appreciate the gesture.”

His mad flatmate studies him with a strange expression. He’s watching John’s mouth. Or maybe his throat. John takes another sip. Swallows.

He frowns. “You don’t usually make coffee.” His voice is unusually squeaky. “Ta for that.” When he says this, his voice breaks. 

“Scratchy throat,” suggests Sherlock. “Drink up.”

He drains the mug, and looks up at Sherlock. Bloody hell, he’s tall…  Reaching to set the empty mug on the counter, he finds it’s now above his head. Why is he on the floor? Everything is tall. 

He also notices that his dressing gown has fallen off and he’s standing in the middle of the kitchen, naked. 

As Sherlock takes the mug from his hand, John notices how small his own hand seems by comparison. He looks down at himself. Other things are small as well. 

“What did you do?” He looks up at his flatmate and understands that the coffee was not a nice gesture, the strange taste not a mistake, and the fact that he’s only three feet tall is— 

“An experiment.” Sherlock smiles in the way he does when he’s found something particularly interesting under the lens of his microscope. 

“You shrank me!”

“No, John. What purpose would that serve? I did not shrink you; I de-aged you.”

There are a number of questions that occur to John, but only one word makes it out of his mouth: “Fuck!”

If things can get worse, John thinks, they generally do. Especially when Sherlock is experimenting. The downstairs door bangs and Lestrade is taking the steps two at a time. The game is clearly afoot.

“Sherlock, I’ve—“ The DI stares at John. “Who’s this?”

“This is John’s nephew, Hamish.”

“Where’s John?” 

Sherlock picks his (naked!) flatmate up, jostles him on his hip. (Picks him up?!?) “He’s working today. I’m babysitting.” He plants a kiss on John’s forehead. “Isn’t that right, my little man?” 

“I’m not a baby.” His voice sounds high, petulant. “I’m not your little man.”

“Somebody’s cranky,” says Lestrade, grinning. “Maybe he needs a little N-A-P.”

“I can spell,” he tells the DI. “And I’m not taking a nap.” He turns his wrath on Sherlock, kicking his tiny feet against his hip. “Put me down, you fucking tit— now! I have to go pee-pee.”

Once potty-time is sorted, John is dressed in a tiny pair of corduroy trousers and a little beige jumper. The fact that Sherlock has these on hand shows more premeditation than John cares to think about. Once Sherlock has tied his shoes (John seems to have forgotten whether the bunny goes around the tree or into the hole), they head off to the crime scene. 

Donovan laughs when she sees him holding Sherlock’s hand. “Not gay,” he snaps. 

“I see Sherlock has found himself a tiny doctor!” She’s modulating her voice as if John were a puppy or a— 

“—baby? Absolutely not, Sherlock! You can’t bring a kid to a crime scene.”

“He’s very mature,” Sherlock tells Lestrade. 

While Sherlock is arguing with the DI, John is already examining the corpse. 

“Asphyxiation,” he tells them. “Note the petechiae.”

“Too much telly,” Sherlock explains. 

“Honestly,” Sally huffs. “Who would leave a child with you, Freak?” She takes John’s hand, then grabs him under the arms when he pulls away, shifts him to her hip. “What were your mummy and daddy thinking?”

“They’re dead,” he informs her. “And Sherlock isn’t a freak. If you ever call him that again, I’m gonna hit you.” He raises a tiny fist threateningly. 

“Look at you,” she says, grinning. “You’re adorable.”

“Come along, Hamish,” Sherlock says, scooping him out of her arms. “Time for that nap you refused earlier.” 

He is starting to feel a bit sleepy, but to admit this will only result in him being confined to his room. And he has no intention of letting Sherlock get away with this experiment. 

Even so, he finds his head dropping to Sherlock’s shoulder in the cab.

Growing takes a lot of energy. He hopes he’s growing, at least, as he falls asleep on the sofa. 

At six o’clock the front bell rings, and John has a terrible feeling he’s forgotten something. He hears Mrs Hudson open it and begin talking to a woman. 

“My date!” he says, sliding off the sofa and heading for the stairs. “I almost forgot. Tell her I’ll be right down.”

“Your date?” Sherlock chuckles. “Won’t she be a bit… erm… put off?”

He looks down at himself. “Jesus. I forgot. Look, will you just—“ 

But before he can complete his thought, Alicia is at the door, looking annoyed. 

“Is John here?” She gives Sherlock a disdainful look. “You must be his flatmate, the one he always talks about.”

Sherlock smiles. “John’s busy. He told me to tell you—“

John steps up. “I thought we might see a movie tonight.”

“Movie?” She laughs. 

“There’s this one about dragons,” he begins.

“Too scary.” Sherlock picks him up again. 

“Why do you keep doing that?” John kicks and flails, trying to land a hit, but Sherlock’s arms are very long.

“I’m afraid John won’t be able to take you to a movie,” Sherlock informs Alicia. “Actually, he prefers much younger women.”

Her eyes bug out, then narrow. “Is this his kid? He never said anything about having  a kid.”

“It’s a surprise.”

John isn’t very sorry to hear the front door slam. Alicia really was a bit old for him. 

He sighs. “Sherlock, I want to be a grownup again. Please reverse this— whatever you did to me.” His eyes fill with tears and he feels his lip trembling. “Please.”

Sherlock squats down and studies him. “Fascinating. Not only has your body de-aged, your brain is becoming less mature as well. You have the body and emotions of a small child. But your memory remains intact. At the crime scene, you were able to determine the cause of death, referring to information you acquired as an adult. Do you understand the implications of this, John? It could revolutionise education— think, if we could just restore a brain’s plasticity, learning might be unlimited.”

John rubs his eyes. “Please turn me back. I don’t wanna be a ‘speriment.”

“But this is ground-breaking!”

“But… but who’ll take care of me? Who’ll make me sandwiches and tell me stories and tuck me into bed at night? Who’ll make sure that bad people don’t hurt me?”

Sherlock pulls him into his lap. “No worries. I’ll do all that, John.”

“No, you won’t! You’ll run off to a crime scene and leave me by myself. You’ll get hurt and be in hospital and I’ll be all alone. Or maybe you’ll die again—” At this he burst into tears. 

Sherlock pats his back until John’s cries turn to hiccups. “You’re right, John. I’d be a terrible parent. And I’m afraid that a re-aging drug hasn’t yet been perfected. You’ll just have to grow up, I’m afraid. Maybe some nice family will adopt you.”

This pronouncement causes another spell of crying. 

Sherlock carries his flatmate into the kitchen and sets him on his chair. He opens his phone, types a message and sends it. Then he makes coffee. 

As John watches, he adds two teaspoons of sugar to his cup and stirs. Then he drinks it down. 

“What are you doing?” John hops off the chair, begins to pull at Sherlock’s trousers. “Sherlock, don’t!”

“It’s the only way, John. I turned you into a child; it’s only fair that I suffer the same fate.”

The trousers become loose and slip to the floor, the shirt swallows him up, and within thirty seconds, Sherlock is looking John in the eye, smiling. 

“You’re naked,” John says, giggling. “Maybe we can take a bath.”

“I hate baths,” Sherlock replies, very haughty for someone who is barely three feet tall. “Wait, are you taller than me?”

John laughs. “We’re both little! But who’s going to take care of us?”

The bell downstairs rings. They hear Mrs Hudson talking to someone, then heavy feet ascending the stairs. 

“Sherlock, what have you done?” Mycroft looks annoyed, then somewhat puzzled. Then he seems to realise. “Oh, dear god! How did you get your hands on it? I told you the antidote hadn’t been perfected yet!”

“I’d like some ginger nuts,” Sherlock replies. “And some milk to go with them. And before you ask, I refuse to take a nap. Naps are boring.”

“I’m afraid it’s not up to you, little brother.” He turns his glare on John. “And I hope I won’t have to threaten you as well, Doctor.”

John does not flinch. “I think we’d both find that embarrassing, Dumbarse.”

... you can imagine the rest, Dear Reader. Mycroft had no plans to raise children, but I think we know who's responsible for this tiny adventure.

Comment on AO3

[avocadish0w0]

Related to the post about parrot fears:

Grian always tries to get home before dark. Of course there's the normal zombies and creepers to be worried about but something about the night is off putting. Things don't look the way they are and danger is harder to find. One night as he's sailing over the forest, something shoots him down. He tries desperately to stay in the air but his wings are growing tired and he's starting to loose altitude. Eventually he bites the bullet and lands, in the middle of a dark oak forest with leaves so thick they blot out the sky. He's frozen, he doesn't know what to do, the darkness is closing in on him, his wings ache and he swore he heard a twig snap. He screams but no one hears him, except for whatever shot him down. ~ 🌟

That is extremely well written, thanks for the ask..... Star anon? Did I get it right?

(This prompt is old, I completely forgot about that it was sitting on my drafts so I finally decided to finish it)

TW: Blood, vomiting, panic attacks, sharp blades, Sam

(Plus some Dadsuma comfort because yes)

===============================

...His wings were aching, he held himself to keep the cold out, he couldn't fly, and his screams would just make the situation worse, he walked, careful not to step in a loose twig, he doesn't know where's the moon, the only thing that could guide him through the void of the endless night, only a few moonlight streaks were able to find their way through the thick leaves of the dense forest.

His mind could be playing tricks on him, but he swears he saw eyes glowing pure white, piercing through the pitch black forest, he walked towards the unknown, fearing his safety and sanity, he held the hem of his jumper ever now and then, crossing his arms, looking around, everything but staying quiet in his place, the white eyes were following him, he started to walk faster as the creature followed him right behind, running seemed like the best option, as he knew death was growing nearer, he couldn't hear the sounds around him, yet he didn't know if it was just his head playing games with him, or if the forest was making a minute of silence for his ever so near end, walking faster and faster, hearing the grass shuffling behind him. It was following him.

He started to run, not caring of he stepped on twigs, that snapped at the slightest touch. The blond avian stumbled on a big root, falling forwards and scraping his face and hands, mud staining his clothes, he looked up and back, supporting his weight on his elbows, his breathing quickened, scared and tired, the white eyes suddenly gained a voice alongside

"Well, well, well, long time no see, Taurtis"

A smirk glistened under a streak of moonlight, a pair of bunny ears appearing soon after, Grian could feel his heart dropping, he wanted to throw up, to scream and cry, but only one of those became true, he felt nauseous as he turned around, the food from earlier coming back, scratching his throat, he looked at the pool of vomit under him, stained with blood and glistening pieces of glass? No... Plastic, multiple sharp pieces of plastic tinted crimson, he reached to clean his mouth, only to be met with a blue sweater instead of his own, the weight of suspensories and headphones on his head made him panic

"Sam... no... This isn't real... It's not real... it's not, it's not, it's not it's-"

"It's very real, Taurtis, missed me?" The bunny boy raised a sword, tilting the avian's head to look at him with the sharp blade

"I'M NOT TAURTIS!! MY NAME'S-" before the boy could finish, the blade went straight through his throat, he could feel his vision fading black, his last sight being the symbol he always hated glistening purple above the boy in front of him, a distant, deep voice rang in his ears

"Always watching... Xelqua..."

===============================

He woke up breathing heavily, desperate, screaming in horror, his hands clutching his throat, suddenly, he felt as if the plastic shards were still there with his dinner, his head was spinning, there were people talking around him, but he couldn't concentrate on what they were saying.

He gripped his hair, unable to breathe, his lungs felt heavy, he wanted to feel something but everything was numb, he felt someone hold his hands, taking them gently out of his hair, the touch was cold, robotic even.

Grian looked up, seeing the warm, fatherly look on the admin's face made him feel safe, his name was still Grian...

Not Taurtis...

Not Xelqua...

Grian.

He was still himself...

Away from them

He hugged Xisuma as hard as possible, still sobbing, searching for any kind of hint that this might be an illusion or another dream, another nightmare, but found none, nothing other than the safety of his base and the warmth of the father figure hugging him back, the soft moonlight outside shone through the windows, casting a soft glow over the duo "Grian, is everything okay? Do you need to talk?" He heard X saying, his tone hushed and soft, as if any alteration would send the fragile avian on his arms to scatter away "I'm fine... Just a nightmare..." He pauses for a while "My name's still Grian right...? I'm still me... Right...?" He could feel the lump on his throat get bigger, his jaw hurting from holding back more tears, desperate for some sort of affirmation "Why? Of course you are! You're still the same pesky bird that loves pranking everyone, you're still our Grian, and as far as I know, your name never changed to Grain" the admin jokes softly, trying to lighten the mood

"Thanks dad..." The avian relaxes, letting the soft sounds of crackling from the torches lull him back to sleep on the admin's embrace

"Anytime G... Now rest... You're safe now... I'll never let anything happen to you, to any of the Hermits"

X's voice is the last thing he hears before falling asleep, without nightmare to haunt him, without them to hunt him

===============================

OH THIS TOOK ME SO LONG!

I finally found out more about Grian's lore (Still have no idea why Xelqua, but I know some of the lore of YHS because of FanFiction) and decided to add it here! Sorry for the angst and I actually really liked writing Dadsuma comfort!

Anygay, have a good day, night or evening wherever you are in the world and goood bye!

[erikahenningsen]

idk if you're taking prompts rn but if you are, what about a fic where regina and janis are already established and they go out thrift shopping cause janis won a bet.

"This is literally so stupid."

Janis rolls her eyes for what feels like the 800th time that afternoon.

"Like, why am I paying for clothes that have already been used? They should be free. And do they even vet the previous owners? What if I'm buying a sweater someone, like, died in?"

"You gave Cady a pair of your shoes," Janis points out, absently sliding jackets down the rack without really looking at them. "What's the difference?"

Regina looks offended, the scowl she's had on her face since they entered the thrift store deepening. "Those were Louboutins."

"You're just salty you lost." Janis holds up a sweater with a sequined kitten on it just to see Regina's nose wrinkle in disgust. "You shouldn't have made a bet if you didn't want to lose."

"I was being supportive of our friend!" Regina says indignantly.

"Betting that one of the theater boys would drop Karen during their dance number is not being supportive."

"Well, I went to the show, didn't I? You know I can't stand musical theater." Regina sniffs. "Character shoes are so tacky."

Janis rolls her eyes—again—and resumes sorting through the racks, but with more attention now. She finds a denim jacket that's a couple sizes too big but has cool embroidery around the collar and sleeves, and she automatically starts thinking of ideas of what to paint on the back.

She also finds a sparkly leotard with a large fluffy ball on the butt and some faux fur trimmings, with a pair of bunny ears in a plastic also attached to the hanger.

Bingo.

"Regina!" Janis calls across the store. "I found something for you."

Regina takes the hanger and looks at the costume for a moment. "Okay," she says simply, heading for the changing stalls at the back of the store.

Janis blinks, surprised at how easy that was. She hovers outside the stall, her phone camera open and ready to document.

A few minutes later, the curtain slides open to reveal Regina and—

Janis nearly drops her phone as her eyes slide up Regina's long, bare legs to her hips, exposed by the high cut of the costume. She tries not to linger on Regina's chest too obviously, but she certainly understands why Cady couldn't seem to look away from Regina's boobs that day they first met in the cafeteria.

Her mouth dry, Janis's brain flips through a dozen different fantasies she didn't even know she had until this very moment.

When Janis's eyes finally land on Regina's face, her smirk is smug and triumphant.

"Looks like I win," Regina says breezily, turning back to the changing stall.

[uraichievents]

Monday, June 26th, 2023 - Sunday, July 2nd, 2023

~

General Info

What is UraIchi Week?

It’s a week-long fanworks event to promote the Urahara Kisuke x Kurosaki Ichigo ship. There’s no sign-up, it’s just for fun, and everybody can participate. Completed works and wips are both acceptable, and any type of fanwork (fanfic, fanart, gifsets, etc.) is welcome. NSFW and/or potentially trigger-y content is allowed, although please remember to tag your works properly.

The ship itself can be written romantically or platonically so long as it stars these two characters together in some way. Poly ships are also fine so long as Ichigo and Kisuke are still the focus of the fanwork. And crossovers and fusions are also allowed even if it isn’t one of the given prompts for the event. Basically, anything goes, and the only criteria is that it has to be UraIchi-centric.

Posting:

For those of you with Tumblr, you can tag your stuff with #UraIchi Week 2023 in the first five tags of your post. I’ll be tracking that tag so I’ll see it and reblog it to this blog. (If it’s been a few days since you posted and I still haven’t reblogged it, something probably went wrong, Tumblr’s not always reliable, so just shoot me an ask about it and I’ll reblog it.)

For those of you with AO3, I will create a collection a day or two before the event starts, and you’ll be able to add your work to the collection when you post. (I’ll toss up a notice for everyone once the collection is up.)

And of course we have our Discord server (link is on the sidebar) so if you want to come and talk about what you’re working on or you just want to chat, feel free to join us there!

At this point, the UraIchi Server has definitely gotten a lot bigger than just UraIchi, but we do still have channels dedicated to UraIchi events.

~ Themes

The votes are in and tallied so here are the results that everyone’s been waiting for! It’s your choice whether or not you want to make a fanwork that includes all the themes of that day, or a fanwork for each theme, or a fanwork for just one. You can make something for each day of the week or just one or two days. And if your fanwork doesn’t fit any of the themes, there’s a Creator’s Choice option on the last day so feel free to bring your own ideas to this event. All prompts can be interpreted any way you want as well, it’s entirely up to you, any extra bits I’ve added is just to help get those inspiration bunnies hopping.

An extra note about the sentence prompts: feel free to change the tenses and pronouns as it suits you. If you’re inspired by a sentence prompt, then of course you should include it in your fic (as opposed to the quote prompts which are just inspiration in a general-theme-of-your-work sort of way), but if you need to change the tense from present to past, or if you’re doing a genderbend fic and need to change the pronoun, that’s perfectly fine.

And now here are the prompts:

June 26th, 2023 - Day 1: the passage of time is a game-changer, for better or for worse

Time Travel AU / Dimension Travel AU

"At this point, I've died so many times, once more isn't going to make a difference."

Post-Canon AU

"This isn't your responsibility." / "It isn't yours either."

June 27th, 2023 - Day 2: o if only the dead could speak— you would hear the stories they could tell, of the terrible things we did for love

Loyalty Kink

"Him or the world? That's easy."

Oaths / Vows

"Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." - David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest

June 28th, 2023 - Day 3: is there really so great a difference, between man and martyr and monster?

vs. Gotei 13 AU

"You could at least keep your pet killer on a leash."

Mafia AU

"Has anyone ever told you how beautiful you look when considering violence?" - Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

June 29th, 2023 - Day 4: i was never human to begin with (you made sure of that)

Feral

Eldritch/Horror/Supernatural Elements AU

Binding Contracts

"Is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?" - Friedrich Nietzsche

June 30th, 2023 - Day 5: our love was forged across battlefields (we fought for every bit of it, every single day)

Soulmates AU

"I want you to stay. Am I still not being clear enough?"

Arranged Marriage AU

"We accept the love we think we deserve." - Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

July 1st, 2023 - Day 6: redemption or destruction— which one will you be to me?

Touch-Starved Character(s)

"I've forgotten how to be kind."

Mask

"I desire the things that will destroy me in the end." - Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

July 2nd, 2023 - Day 7:

Creator’s Choice!