#Efficient Contract Handling

[nexdigm]

Nexdigm Contract Management Services: Streamlining Processes for Efficient Business Operations

Optimize your business operations with Nexdigm's Contract Management Services. Our expert Business Process Management ensures streamlined and efficient handling of contracts. From creation to compliance, we provide tailored solutions for effective contract lifecycle management. Elevate your organizational efficiency with Nexdigm's professional services in Business Process Management - transforming the way you manage contracts for seamless operations and enhanced productivity.

[ponderingmoonlight]

HEYYYY so i dont really know if u write this stuff but i was wondering if u could do like toji/jjk men and their reaction when the reader goes into labour?? ❤️❤️

JJK men when you go into labor

Pairings: Toji x fem!reader; Geto x fem!reader; Gojo x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,3k

Warnings: yk...birth, this is basically the same scenario for 3k words straight lol, never gave birth myself so idk if this is accurate 🥹

Toji Fushiguro

The day started like any other. Well, as normal as it can be when you’re nine months pregnant.

You are in the kitchen, trying to decide between a cup of tea or a snack, when a sharp, unmistakable pain shoots through your abdomen. You gasp, clutching the edge of the counter for support as the realization hits you with full force:

This is it. The baby is coming.

“Toji!” you call out, your voice trembling as another wave of pain rolls through you.

You hear the rustle of a newspaper being set down and the heavy footsteps of your husband approaching from the living room.

“Toji…” you try to keep calm, but the panic in your voice is unmistakable.

The man is a fortress, rarely showing any emotion beyond his usual stoic demeanor, but when he sees your expression, something shifts in his eyes. The usually cool, collected Toji Fushiguro is now all business.

Without a word, he’s right by your side, one strong arm wrapping around your waist to support you. His other hand comes up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“How long have you been feeling this?” he questions, his voice steady, though you can hear the underlying tension.

“Just started,” you manage to reply through gritted teeth.

Another contraction hits, and you instinctively grip his arm, digging your nails into his skin for support.

Toji doesn’t even flinch. Instead, he simply nods, assessing the situation with the same precision he would use in a fight.

“Alright. We’re going to the hospital now. I’ll get the bag.”

He guides you to the couch, making sure you are seated comfortably before he disappears down the hall. You can hear the faint sound of drawers being opened and closed, and within moments, he’s back with the hospital bag slung over his shoulder.

Toji lifts you into his arms effortlessly, cradling you against his chest as he carries you to the car. His movements are quick but careful. And even though he’d never admit it, you can feel the tension in his body, a rare vulnerability in a man who’s usually so unshakable.

As he settles you into the passenger seat, he leans down, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face.

“You’re strong. You can handle this, babe” he mutters, his voice firm but with an edge of softness that he rarely shows.

The drive to the hospital is swift as usual, Toji weaving through traffic with the same precision he uses in combat. But his now soft hand never leaves yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin as if trying to soothe both your pain and his own worry.

“You’re doing great,” he murmurs, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye.

His jaw is set, the muscles on his neck visible tense. And yet his voice is calm, grounding you during your fear and pain.

When you finally arrive at the hospital, Toji is all efficiency. He barks orders at the staff, making sure everything is ready for your arrival with all their attention on you. Despite the situation, his grip on your hand is firm, his presence unwavering while he stays by your side through every step.

In the delivery room, as the pain intensifies, you squeeze his hand to death, your nails biting into his now injured skin. Toji doesn’t do so much as flinch, his focus entirely on you.

“Breathe,” he reminds you whenever you need to hear it, his voice steady and commanding.

You manage to look up at him between contractions. And for a brief moment, you see something in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

Fear.

It’s fleeting, quickly replaced by his usual determination, but it was there, a reminder that beneath his tough exterior and his sometimes sharp tone towards you, Toji cares more than he’ll ever admit.

As the contractions grow stronger, Toji’s calm exterior begins to crack. He isn’t panicking, but you can see the worry etched into his features, the way his grip tightened just slightly every time you cry out in pain.

“You’re almost there,” he murmurs, his voice gruff but soothing.

“Just a little longer.”

When the final push comes and the cries of your newborn fill the room, you see Toji’s shoulders relax ever so slightly through wet lashes. When he looks down at you, a small and rare smile tugs on the corner of his usual so neutral lips. Those lips you’ll never get tired of kissing. Those lips who can be used as a weapon, those lips that do in fact hurt you from time to time. You know this relationship can be toxic, that Toji Fushiguro isn’t the definition of a dream husband.

But at this very moment, with glistening eyes set on you and that smile forming on his face, you can think of nothing else.

“You did it,” he whispers, his voice low and filled with something that almost sounds like awe.

When the nurse places the baby in your arms, Toji’s hand comes to rest on your shoulder, his thumb brushing lightly against your skin.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Get some rest, babe.”

In that moment, surrounded by the warmth of your new family and with your eyelids slowly but surely growing heavy, you see a side of Toji that he rarely let anyone see: a man who is strong but also deeply, fiercely protective of the people he loves.

Especially you.

Suguru Geto

The afternoon sunlight filters through the curtains when you sit on the couch, folding the last of the baby clothes that Suguru insisted on organizing earlier that morning. You smile to yourself, thinking about how fussy he was, making sure everything was in its place for the baby’s arrival.

You feel a twinge in your lower abdomen, brushing it off as one of the many discomforts that accompanied the last few weeks of pregnancy. But the pain returns just a few seconds later, sharper this time. Your face turns pale when realization hits you with full force.

This isn’t just another cramp. Those are contractions.

“Suguru…” you call out, trying to keep your voice steady as another wave of pain washes over you.

Panic starts to creep in, even though you try to push it down. You need to stay calm, need to make your way to the hospital to finally deliver that baby.

Suguru appears in the doorway almost instantly, his usually serene expression replaced with pure concern as he crosses the room to your side.

“What is it? Are you alright?” he asks with gentle and yet tensioned voice.

“I think it’s time,” you whisper, clutching your belly when another contraction hit, more intense than the last.

“I think… I’m in labor.”

Labor.

For a moment, Suguru’s eyes widen, a rare flash of panic crossing his features. But as quickly as it came, it vanishes into his usual calm composure.

He kneels beside you, taking your hand in his, his thumb brushing soothing circles against your skin.

“Alright,” he replies softly, his voice like a balm to your frayed nerves.

“We’ll get through this. Let me get everything ready.”

Suguru stands and moves with a quiet efficiency, grabbing the hospital bag and making sure you have everything you need. You watch him, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who, despite the panic of the situation, is doing everything he can to keep you calm.

Until another contraction hits you like a truck.

He’s back at your side in no time, helping you to your feet with a gentle touch.

“Lean on me,” he instructs softly, wrapping an arm around your waist to support you while you make your way to the car.

The drive to the hospital is surreal. Suguru’s hand never leaves yours, his presence a constant source of comfort. He speaks softly to you the entire time, his voice a steady rhythm that you can focus on, grounding you through coming and going contractions.

“You’re doing amazing,” he repeats over and over, his tone filled with quiet admiration.

You try to focus on his words, his calm demeanor helping to ease some of your anxiety. Suguru is always the calm in your storm, the one who can bring you back to center no matter how chaotic things are. And now, when the reality of labor starts to set in, you are more grateful than ever for his steady presence.

When you arrived at the hospital, Suguru springs into action immediately, helping you out of the car and into a wheelchair with the same gentle care he always shows. He stays close as the nurses wheel you into the delivery room, his hand never leaving yours.

As the contractions grow stronger, you find yourself gripping his hand tighter, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. Suguru is right there with you, his voice a constant source of comfort.

“Breathe, love,” he whispers, his tone soothing.

“You’re doing so well.”

Despite the pain you find yourself focusing on his voice, letting it guide you through each contraction. Suguru’s presence is like a lifeline, grounding you in the midst of the pain and chaos. He always remains close, his forehead resting gently against yours as he whispers words of encouragement in your ear.

“You’re almost there,” he murmurs softly.

“Just a little more, and we’ll meet our baby.”

As the final push comes, you could feel Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, his breath catching in his throat while watching you bring your child into the world. Within the next second, the sound of your baby’s first cry fills the room, and the first thing you see are tears glistening in Suguru’s eyes.

“You did it,” he breathes out, his voice thick with emotion as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re incredible.”

The nurse places your baby in your arms and Suguru’s hand comes to rest gently on the tiny head, his expression softening as he looks down at your child.

“Welcome to the world,” he whispers, his voice filled with so much love for that little creature that makes your heart swell.

Satoru Gojo

You are lounging on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position, which honestly seems impossible at this stage of pregnancy. Satoru is in the kitchen, probably making another one of his infamous midnight snacks. The two of you spent the day preparing for the baby’s arrival, but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon.

Out of nowhere, a sharp pain shoots through your abdomen, stealing your breath. You hold onto your belly, realization dawning on you as the pain increases more and more.

“Satoru!” you call out, your voice laced with urgency.

Almost instantly, Satoru appears in the doorway, a sandwich in one hand and a look of confusion on his face.

“What’s up?” he asks casually.

But when he sees the expression on your face, his carefree demeanor falters in an instant.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“I think… I think it’s time,” you manage to press out, your voice trembling as another contraction hits.

You see the color drain from his face for a split second before his usual grin appears bac on his face.

“Oh, it’s go time!” he exclaims, dropping the sandwich onto the counter and rushing over to you.

“Alright, don’t worry, babe. I’ve got this. I’ll just finish that sandwich later,”

You can’t help but laugh despite the pain.

“You…You really think about that sandwich now?”

 He helps you to your feet, his hands warm and steady as he guides you toward the door.

“Sure babe. Just breathe, okay? I’ll have you at the hospital in no time.”

He scoops you up with ease, carrying you to the car like you weigh nothing. As he settles you into the passenger seat, he is all smiles, though you could see the flicker of nervousness in his eyes.

“You ready for this?” he questions, his voice filled with excitement.

The drive to the hospital is a blur of lights and Satoru’s voice, a constant stream of chatter meant to distract you from the pain and Backstreet Boys crying out of the radio. He weaves through traffic with an ease that only he can manage, glancing over at you every few seconds while humming.

“You’re doing amazing, babe. Just keep breathing.”

You squeeze his hand tightly, trying to focus on his voice as another contraction hits. Satoru’s grip tightens in response, and you can see the concern creeping into his usually carefree expression.

But he still keeps talking, trying to keep you calm with jokes, stories and boy bands, anything to make you smile.

When you finally arrive at the hospital, Satoru is out of the car in a flash, helping you out and into a wheelchair with a surprising amount of gentleness. He holds your hand tightly as the nurses wheel you inside.

In the delivery room, Satoru stays by your side, his usual humor tempered by a seriousness you rarely saw.

“You’ve got this,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from your face while you brace for another contraction.

“You’re the strongest person I know.”

Despite the pain, you manage a small smile. You, the strongest?

“No, you’re the strongest”, you press out.

He simply beams down at you while shrugging in a playful way. Satoru might joke around a lot, but in moments like this, you know you can count on him to be there for you.

As the labor progresses, you find yourself leaning on him more and more, his voice the only thing grounding you through the pain. Satoru’s grip on your hand never wavers, even when you squeeze it hard enough to leave marks.

“Just a little more, babe,” he purrs, his forehead pressed against yours as he helps you through the final push.

“You’re almost there.”

When your baby’s cries finally fill the room, you see the tension leave Satoru’s body all at once. He looks down at you, a wide grin spreading across his face, his eyes shining with tears he will never admit to.

“We did it,” he whispers, his voice choked with emotion.

As the nurse placed your baby in your arms, Satoru’s hand comes to rest gently on the tiny head, his expression one of pure awe.

“Hey there, little one,” he hushes softly.

You looked up at him, tears in your own eyes when you see the way he looks at your child:

With all the love and devotion he usually tries to hide behind jokes and smiles.

In that moment, you know that Satoru will be the best father, just as he’s the best partner.

“Now…are you in the mood for a sandwich?”

“Babies aren’t allowed to eat sandwiches, idiot.”

Ryomen Sukuna

You are lying in bed like you did those pasts days, trying to ignore the discomfort nagged at you all day. Ryomen Sukuna sits across the room, his crimson eyes watching you with a mixture of boredom and curiosity.

He was never one to show much concern, but you noticed the way his gaze had lingered on you more often as your due date approached.

Then, without warning, a sharp, intense pain shoots through your abdomen, making you gasp. You clutch at your belly, the realization hitting you hard.

“Sukuna…” you manage to whisper, your voice strained.

He’s by your side in an instant, faster than you ever saw him move.

“What is it?” he questions, his voice low and dangerous, as if he’s ready to eliminate whatever was causing you pain.

“I think… I think it’s happening,” you press out, trying to keep your voice steady as another contraction hits.

“The baby is coming.”

For a moment, Sukuna’s eyes narrow, his usual arrogance replaced by something you can’t quite place.

“So, it begins,” he mutters more to himself than to you.

Without another word, he lifts you into his arms, his grip firm but surprisingly gentle.

“You’re not going to die from this, are you?” he comments, a hint of irritation in his voice, though you know him well enough to recognize the concern beneath it.

You manage a weak smile.

“No, I’m not going to die.”

“Good,” he mutters, his tone gruff as he carries you out of the room.

“I won’t tolerate weakness from the woman birthing my child.”

Despite his harsh words, you can feel the tension in his body radiating from his firm muscles, the way his grip tightens ever so slightly when you wince in pain. Sukuna was always a creature of power and control, and the fact that he can’t do anything to stop your pain seems to frustrate him.

How ironic.

He carries you outside, where a car waits - something he arranged without you even realizing it. Sukuna isn’t usually one to rely on human conveniences, but for you, he obviously made an exception.

“A car?”

“Shut up, brat. Teleporting us into the hospital might be too dangerous. I…I don’t know much about a pregnancy…”

“I can tell that.”

The drive to the hospital is silent, save for the sound of your labored breathing and the occasional growl from Sukuna when you tense in pain. He sits beside you, his eyes never leaving your face, watching you with an intensity that borders on obsessive.

When you finally arrived at the hospital, Sukuna carries you inside, ignoring the shocked looks from the staff as he barks orders at them. His presence is intimidating, and no one dares question him as he demands the best care for you.

In the delivery room, Sukuna stays close, his usual arrogance tempered by something you rarely saw in him - worry.

“You’re stronger than this,” he tells you, his voice low and commanding as you fight through another contraction.

“You will not be defeated by something as trivial as childbirth.”

His words are harsh, but you can hear the underlying concern, the way his eyes soften ever so slightly when you cry out in pain. Sukuna was never one to show weakness, but in this moment, you can see that he’s in fact afraid. Afraid of losing you, afraid of something happening that he can’t control. Him, the king of curses, not in charge for this situation?

As the labor progresses, you find yourself relying on his strength, his presence a strange comfort in the midst of the pain. Sukuna’s hand find yours, his grip firm and unyielding, as if he tries to share his power with you, to keep you grounded in the storm of pain that washes over you.

“You will get through this,” he growls, his voice filled with an authority that doesn’t allow another argument.

“You are mine, and I will not let anything happen to you.”

When the final push comes, you can feel Sukuna’s grip tighten, his breath hitching as your baby’s cries echo through the room. He looks down at you, his eyes wide with something that might be shock. Or perhaps awe? You are too exhausted and filled with emotions to care.

“You did it,” he murmurs, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looks at the tiny, wriggling form in your arms.

“You really did it.”

For a moment, Sukuna is silent, staring down at the baby with an expression you’ve never seen before - an almost hesitant curiosity.

Slowly and hesitating, he reached out, his large hand resting gently on the baby’s dark head.

“This… is ours,” he mutters, his voice filled with a strange mix of pride and possessiveness.

You nod, tears filling your eyes as you looked up at him.

“Yes, ours.”

He might be the king of curses, a being of immense power and cruelty, but in this moment, he is also a father, and you know that he’ll protect you and your child with everything he has.

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[mariasont]

I love your fics so much! Could you maybe make a pre-relationship fic of Spencer x reader Spencer rescues the reader from the unsub and calms them down?? I'm a big hurt/comfort girly lmao 🫶🏼😛

Pulse Point - S.R

a/n: thank you so much!!!! so sorry for taking so long! i hope you like it <3

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x reader

warnings: undescribed injury, lil bit of angst with a happy ish ending, pre-relationship ending

wc: 1.6k

Spencer had seen you in danger before. It came with the job—a stipulation of the unwritten contract you signed the day you joined the team. His mind had been conditioned to assess danger rationally, stripping away emotion to leave behind only what mattered: probabilities, outcomes, strategies. 

But then again seeing you, tied to that chair, unconscious and face drained of color, was something he wasn't sure any amount of mathematical modeling could prepare him for.

Your head had hung at an unnatural angle, the strands of hair clinging to the sweat slicking your skin in a way that sent a visceral wave of nausea rolling through him. Rope burns—thin, angry welts were already bruising—encircled your wrists. He couldn't breathe—his chest seized, ribs locking tight, as though his body itself couldn't handle the image of you in that state. The unsub's voice had faded into white noise, irrelevant against the single, all-encompassing command that had pounded in his head—get to you, get you out of here.

Now, sitting on the cold concrete of the clearing zone with you cradled against his chest, Spencer's mind spiraled in a loop—that singular thought repeating, relentless, fractal, like a Fibonacci sequence winding tighter and tighter around his sanity. The unsub was subdued—Morgan had handled it efficiently—but Spencer couldn't bring himself to focus on that, let alone process it. The edges of his awareness narrowed, his entire world reduced to you. Limp. Unresponsive. Alarmingly still. It made his heart pound so violently it felt like it might break him from the inside out.

His hands wouldn't stop shaking, a trembling he couldn't stop no matter how hard he tried. One arm braced under your knees, the other pressed against the curve of your back. He adjusted his grip carefully, terrified of moving you the wrong way, terrified of doing anything that might make things worse. His eyes flicked to your chest, tracking the uneven rise and fall of your breathing. Too shallow. Too inconsistent. But there.

Twelve to twenty breaths per minute—that's the normal respiratory rate for an adult at rest, he recited, mind retreating to the relative safety of cold, clinical facts. Yours, he estimated, was faster—high twenties, maybe—an expected adrenaline response to trauma. It was within the acceptable range. It should have reassured him. As long as it didn't drop below eight or spike above thirty, there was no immediate cause for intervention. The logic was sound. The science was sound. But that did absolutely nothing to stem the gnawing unease twisting through him.

Then you started to stir.

It was subtle at first, so subtle he almost thought he imagined it—a small, almost imperceptible sound slipping past your lips, the softest shift of you head against his shoulder—but it sent a jolt through him nonetheless.

Your eyes fluttered open, unfocused and glassy, the muscles in your face tightening with confusion as consciousness gradually took hold. Relief bloomed, but it died just as quickly. Recognition didn't follow. Instead, your expression twisted, your features contorting with something feral, something deeply afraid. Your breathing grew erratic, breaking into rapid, shallow bursts that rattled your frame.

And then you started thrashing.

"No, no—get off me!" Your voice cracked, raw with fear.

He tightened his arms just enough to stop you from hurting yourself.

"Hey, hey—stop! It's me—it's Spencer!"

You didn't react to his voice. It was as if you couldn't even hear him. Your body twisted violently, fighting something unseen, nails scraping at his vest, frantic and clawing, desperate to escape.

Spencer swallowed thickly, forcing himself to focus on what he knew. This was textbook trauma response. Cortisol and adrenaline were flooding your system, hijacking your prefrontal cortex, reducing your mind to survival instincts alone. It all made perfect sense—he could explain it in detail, rationalize it. But none of the logic in the world could prepare him for what it felt like to hold you like this and not be able to fix it.

"Look at me. It's Spencer. You're safe now. I promise, you're safe."

The words didn't seem to do much, falling flat and useless. Spencer felt a crushing helplessness as he watched, paralyzed while panic consumed you in a way he couldn't stop. His mind scrambled, clawing through years of knowledge, training, and case studies, all of which felt painfully inadequate now. It was one thing to understand trauma as a concept, to study it in a clinical detachment. It was another to watch it consume someone you cared about, to feel it in the way your body shook.

But then—finally—something shifted.

You froze. Not the rigid, terror-fueled panic from before, but something different. Tentative. Uncertain. Your breathing stuttered, still too fast, but the wildness in your eyes began to ebb like clouds parting just enough to let a sliver of sunlight through. You blinked, once, twice, and then your gaze locked onto his face, really seeing him this time.

"Spence..." Your voice was hardly above a whisper, like a fragile filament of sound, barely there but enough for his chest to ache all the same.

Relief washed over him so fast it left him lightheaded. 

"Yeah, it's me," he said softly, nodding quickly as though the motion itself might convince you. "It's just me. You're okay."

Wide eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, stared back at him as though searching for something—anything—to hold on to. The air felt like it was holding its breath, waiting. And then he saw it—the exact second the realization hit that you were safe. The fear in your face melted, replaced by something fragile, something breaking open. Your lip quivered, your breath hitching, and then, without a word, you lunged forward, throwing your arms around his neck.

Spencer froze.

He wasn't exactly new to your hugs. They didn't happen often—his aversion to touch usually kept that at bay—but when they did, they were always simple. After a particularly hard case or when the job felt overwhelming. But this? This was not that.

For a split second, his brain failed him entirely, unable to keep up with what he was seeing. He honed in on the small details—the way your hands clutched his shirt in tight, desperate fists, the way your trembling body seemed so much smaller than he ever remembered. He'd never seen you this way. The realization terrified him in ways he couldn't articulate.

But then that rare instinct of his took over.

With painstaking care, he wrapped his arms around you, like he was afraid you might break apart in his hands. One hand slipped to the back of your head, his fingers threading through your hair, softer than he thought himself capable of. The other stayed pressed firmly against your back, holding you to him, refusing to let go—because letting go felt unthinkable, impossible. He leaned into you, his cheek brushing against the top of your head, breathing you in. The familiar scent of your shampoo was still there, but beneath it lingered something sharper, something more metallic that made his fingers sink deeper into the hold.

"It's okay," he murmured, every word scraping against the tightness in his throat. "I've got you I'm not going anywhere."

He felt the sharp hitch of your breath against his chest, followed moments later by the damp heat of tears soaking into his shoulder. You were crying. The realization hit him like a physical weight, and his arms tightened around you instinctively. He wasn't sure who was shaking anymore—you or him. Maybe both.

He shifted his hand slightly on your back, his thumb brushing against your shoulder blade. But even as he tried to comfort you, his brain kept ticking like clockwork, unable to stop itself. Your pulse—it was still too fast. He could feel in beneath the pad of his fingers, pounding just under the surface of your skin.

The medics needed to get here soon.

His fingers moved without thinking, sliding to your neck, pressing lightly against the artery there. He told himself it was necessary, just a routine check to make sure nothing was wrong, but he knew better. It was selfish—a desperate need to feel the beat of your pulse under his fingertips, to remind himself you were here. Alive. That the worst was behind you.

It was fast, just as he'd predicted, but steady. Stable. A good sign.

Spencer let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding, shoulders sagging. 

"You're okay," he murmured softly, though he wasn't entirely sure who he was trying to convince anymore.

He closed his eyes.

Minutes passed by, though they both felt impossibly long and far too short. You stayed against him just like that, breathing slowly evening out until the jagged edges of panic dulled into exhaustion. He said nothing more—words felt unnecessary, maybe even counterproductive. So he just held you.

When the sound of footsteps finally reached his ears, Spencer didn't move. Not until the medics appeared in his peripheral vision, and even then, he hesitated, tightening his grip on you for just a fraction of a second before forcing himself to let go.

"Hey," he murmured, pulling back just enough to look at you. "The medics are here, okay? They're going to take care of you."

You nodded, but it was hesitant, your eyes swollen and puffy, and you clung to him just a little longer. Your hand wrapped around his sleeve like you were afraid to let go.

Spencer's eyes flicked to the medics, his voice low but insistent. "Be careful."

The medics nodded, stepping in to take over, and Spencer reluctantly released his hold. His arms felt empty, hollow, as they fell to his sides. Even as the medics worked, his gaze stayed glued to you, his eyes tracking every breath, every faint movement. He couldn't look away. Wouldn't.

It was then he realized a dangerous idea, that he cared about you more than he should, more than was professional. And it terrified him.

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[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini, what about vampire Fyodor x vampire hunter reader (〜^∇^)〜 like you’ve been assigned to hunt down and bring the head of Fyodor Dostoevsky to uhh.. a king idk.

So you track Fyodor down and instead make a deal with him. You won’t kill him and actually let him feed off you and he lets you fuck him (ゝз╹)

At first he’s hesitant. A well ranked hunter coming to him and proposing a friends with benefits arrangement sounds pretty suspicious, but hearing the offer that you let him feed off you makes him agree since it’s an easy meal and he was planning on betraying you later on.

Thats until he’s bent down on all fours and being pounded like wild animals in heat. The vampire is so touch starved that he can’t handle the pleasure and tries biting anything he can (let’s just say you were left with a bunch of bite marks) After that experience he traps you in his manor and begs you to stay with him, maybe he turns you into a vampire as well

-🍮

I had so much fun writing this haha, and I had to brainstorm trying to fill in some plot holes

Dom!reader x sub!vampire!fyodor

Warning: teasing, pet name (lil’ vamp), pegging (I use dick), a tiny bit of dacryphilia, biting, hierophilia (blood), vampirism, contract sex

Edit: I think I’m based towards fyodor, this ended up so long again-

You were a mercenary, one specified in hunting down those bloodsucking monsters known as vampires. Your name was infamous among the humans and vampire race, known for your amazing methods and efficient execution. Though you don’t care much about fame, the only good things about it is it lands you many missions. Which is why you’ve been summoned to the castle of a faraway country, one that resides close to a forbidden forest.

These mysterious forests are strictly forbidden due to vampires living within them. It’s always dark and quiet in those places, befitting their taste. So you might think it’s alright if people just don’t go into the woods. Sadly something like that can’t be prevented. There are many valuable resources beneath these trees, and everyone is dying to get their hands on those. The price for material from the forest is also really high, and sometimes that’s the only hope for the commoners.

Even though it’s been agreed upon that humans shall not disturb the vampires for they own safety, your client, the king, wanted to raid the forest. He had his eyes set on the wood planted around the mansion of the monster, it had a beautiful dark colour and was very sturdy. Yet out of fear for the power of the entity, he didn’t dare set a single foot into the woods. That’s when you come into the spotlight, he wanted you, the most famous vampire hunter, to take care of this. Once the vampire is gone, he won’t be breaking any rules, right?

This was a common case for you, everyone used you to do their dirty work. That’s the life of a mercenary, disposable and self-destructive.

You walked through the lavish halls of the king, meeting him in his throne hall. He didn’t spare you more then one glance, shouting loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, “y/n, vampire hunter. I have an honorary task for you. I want you to bring me the head of the demon Fyodor Dostoyevsky and for that you’ll be greatly rewarded.”

Despite it sounding grandiose and imposing you knew how to stand your ground, asking for the exact amount you’ll be rewarded and an advance payment. The king on the other hand refused to answer, saying he doesn’t want you to run off with the money. What a joke, your previous feats aren’t just for show after all. There was no helping it, that’s life. You swallowed your anger and left, rolling your eyes as you prepared to set off.

The home of that demon was grande, almost as huge as the castle, he sure loved luxury. You circled around the house to secure your escape route before heading inside, the door opened with a climatic creak. What a cliche, does vampires not know how to take care of their home? Without sparing it too much thought, you stepped inside and called out for that monster, wondering why the ruler knew his name. They must have a long history between them.

“Fyodor! Heyyy, come out, do me a favour and make this easy.” You yelled, and soon enough, a shadow emerged from behind you. Before you got the chance to turn around, he mumbled with grace and elegance, “Y/n, the vampire’s greatest enemy. The one who pulled out the fangs of Dracula with your bare hand, and forced him to drink the blood of his comrades.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, it was low and pretty, enough to stir something inside you.

“That’s an exaggeration, I never did such things.” You turned around and chuckled, staring into his purple eyes. Before you stood a black haired young man with a puffy shirt and fitted pants. He wore many silver accessories, tons of necklaces hung around his neck. His appearance was very eye-catching, pretty features and pale skin, sickly so. “…but I may have a record of flirting with the enemy.” After seeing how beautiful he was, you decided to indulge yourself, flirting with him.

He didn’t pay your words any attention, instead he continued with his speech, “Mortal children strived to be like you, while we use your stories to scare the kids.” You stopped, a sense of pride engulfing you from the inside. “My, I am quite famous after all.” Fyodor furrowed his brows, as if he’s agitated, then he relaxed his expression and said, “I knew you’d come for me one day. And, I’m dying to try out your blood.” After saying that, he licked his lips before covering his mouth with his hand.

You laughed, catching him off guard. The sound of your voice was annoying, he felt like you were mocking him. Then you teased, “dear, do you really think you can touch my blood?” That was clearly a provocation, you looked down on him. He clicked his tongue, glaring at you. The moment you blinked, he rushed over to you, planning on taking you out with one swoop attack. You dodged him with ease, commenting, “not bad, but is this all?” And he ignored your remarks once more.

Seeing how serious he was, you’ll have to stop the joking soon as well. To be honest you weren’t in the mood for fighting, which is why you suggested, “How about this, fyodor-” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He snapped, showing his fangs. “…then, lil’ vamp it is.” You chuckled, noticing how that pet name annoyed him further. “How about a deal? I’ll spare your life and you can have as much of my blood as I’m able to give you.” His pointy ears perked, intrigued by this proposal. It sounded enticing, but there’s nothing for free in this world.

“And what do you get out of this?” Fyodor asked, keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to heed the rules of a deal anyway, especially when made with a human. “Allow me to be a bit crude, but I want you to sell your body to me.” The boy froze in place, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Were you aware of the implications of your own words? Was this another one of your mockery, your way of insulting him? “What makes you think I’d agree?” He questioned you, staring at your face with his scarlet eyes, trying to read you.

“I’m simply proposing a deal, you can decline or agree, it’s up to you.” Somehow you managed to sound unbothered and cheery despite the situation. No matter how fyodor wanted to decline, he knew this was his chance. If you fought with him seriously, he would eventually lose. Now, with you giving him new opportunities, he had to take them and put it to good use. “I’ll accept this for now, so, show me how sincere you are.” The demon demanded, and you answered with, “my pleasure, please show me to your room.”

Who would have known a day like this would come, where he got shoved into his own room, pinned to his own bed and humiliated in front of a human. It didn’t take long until you got him bend over on all fours, face pressed into his soft pillows. Any of his attempts to overpower you were futile, because you were physically stronger than him. That allowed you to pretty much manhandle him, denying him access to your neck. Once you got him into this vulnerable position, you didn’t held yourself back, asking him one last time if your deal still stands. After he nodded, you went all in.

Now you were breathing heavily while slowly entering his hole. His rim was tight and didn’t allow you any entrance, but you stayed stubborn, gently pushing your way in. “You are so tight, lil’ vamp.” You muttered, occasionally glancing over at him to see how well his reaction is. “Nghhh…! S-slow down, it hurts!” Fyodor groaned, cheeks flushed red as he realized the situation he was in, and that he never shared such intimate moments with anyone before. “…if I go any slower I wouldn’t be moving anymore.” You tried to reason with him, leaning down to press your body against his.

“HnnGh… t-then pull out…” He snarled, glaring at you while he felt your skin against his back, pressing him down, reminding him of your presence. How did things turn out like this? Why was he participating in such vulgar acts with his greatest enemy…? “Do you want me to? Then you won’t get my blood as well.” You whispered into his ear, licking his earlobe and the earring he wore. “Ha-haahhhH…! No, d-don’t.” The boy gasped, and you weren’t sure what he meant. But he seems to be enjoying himself, so you continued.

His hands gripped the white sheets with all the remaining strength he had, his ass reddened as he struggled to take you whole. That poor guy’s entire body was shivering, shaking as he tried to get used to this pressing sensation inside him. He could feel you stretching him apart, rubbing against his squishy walls. You smiled as you observed his efforts, one hand clasped over his hand as you intertwining your fingers with his. He had sharp nails, you could even call them claws. So you were worried that he’d poke holes into his sheets.

Your other hand explored his body, trailing down his spine with your fingertips, brushing over his body as if you were caressing a flower. “Hmm..! Uh-uhhng..! It f-feels weird..” It tickled him, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least he thinks it wasn’t. Next, you stroke his silky hair before grabbing his hip and mumbling tenderly, “you are doing good, don’t worry I plan on being nice for today.” What do you mean for today…?

Soon, your hips met with his, and you stopped moving until you were sure he was alright. “Good job.” You said, rubbing his blushing cheeks slightly. Then you held your wrist right in front of him, inviting him to bite you, giving him your approval. Without any once of hesitation, he sunk his teeth into your flesh, sucking viciously. He was feeling so weak from your actions, he needed that replenishment. Since he was distracted, you took that chance to start moving again, making sure to take your sweet time. Well, he looked like he’d break if you weren’t gentle with him. He had such a slim and frail physic after all. Just look at his waist, it’s so skinny you fear you could accidentally break him into two pieces.

Fyodor suck on your wrist, mind getting cloudy from the taste of your sweet blood. It tasted amazing, and it made him feel all foggy inside. As if he was getting drunk on it, addicted even. He made sure not to waste a single drop, lips pressed against your skin while he gulped down more and more of your vitality. Apparently he was so distracted he didn’t notice you pounding his cute ass, not until it was too late. You fucked him slowly but roughly, each time you’d thrust yourself as deep inside him as you could, feeling him clench around you so sweetly.

“HnMnh, nghh…” the vampire only whimpered meekly as he sipped your blood contently, feeling pleasure blossom everywhere inside him. You eventually quickened your pace, now rutting into him without any care in the world. It was instantly met with his mewling, a high pitched noise as he screamed in ecstasy. Fyodor couldn’t pull his thoughts together, tongue hanging out as some tears rolled down his face.

Then you pulled your wrist away from him, saying, “that’s enough for now. If you want more, you gotta work hard.” His eyes bore such a pitiful look as he begged you for more, face melting as he moaned around you, some of your blood sticking to his lips. “Ahhh… it felt so good, I-i don’t wanna stop..” he admit, hands shaking underneath you, his primal urges kicking in, infesting his desires and hunger.

“What is it that you want, fyodor?” The way you voiced his name made his knees go weak, tremble even. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs with air, to keep his composure. “I-I want more blood… I want your blood.” You smiled, seeing him so desperate fed into your own desires. And you felt like if you denied him any longer he was going to cry, considering his eyes were getting watery already. “Then come here, lil’ vamp.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sat up, positioning him in your lap.

His first response was to whine as he arched his back forwards, legs turning into pudding as his hands shakily let go of the sheets, now clutching your thighs. “Ah-nGhh.. it’s so- so deep inside me.. it’s so foreign..?” Out of nowhere you turned him over, and he wanted to immediately bite your neck, but you covered his mouth with your palm. “Not yet.” As soon as he understood what you wanted, he wrapped his arms around your neck, bouncing up and down your dick like he was in heat. Your hand was still over his lips, so his moans all got muffled as they seeped through, “mHhnff, HnnGh, hmm…!!”

He rode you with fever and need. On one hand because he needed you and your blood on a carnal level, on the other hand due to him starting to enjoy getting fucked by you. After a while you took your hand away from him, now squeezing his waist with both hands, guiding his movements. Fyodor nuzzled against your neck, pleading with you, hoping you’d let him have some of that delicious red liquid again. “Y/n.. ah-huuHhn~ l-let me fed off you..? P-please..♡♥︎～?” You giggled to yourself, entertained and delighted, duty all pushed to the side as you said, “go on, take as much as you need.”

Needless of say, you two shared a long night together, and somehow, both of you ended up in endless love bites. Ops, what’s this? Oh no, his door is stuck! It must be because it’s so old~ oh no, seems you’ll have to stay at the mansion longer than expected… and his impending heat is coming up ♡

My friend send me this after I told them what I was writing haha

[am-i-interrupting]

Reacting to You Hurt

For @aliceneedsphalis

Alastor

Hell is an awful place and you’re used to it at this point. It didn’t bother you when someone tried to jump you and managed to stab you while you got away. What did bother you was the fact that now you were late.

Every week you and Alastor met up sometimes at your place, other times his radio station, occasionally on his bedroom balcony, and every so often you’d venture out to a restaurant.

You met up to catch each other up on the going ons in Overlord business (in his case) and general populace activity (in your case)

You were grumbling to yourself as today you went to his radio tower.

They’d ripped one of your favorite tops because of course they did and now it would be stained!

You were not looking forward to the patching up process and cleaning but hey, it is what it is, right?

You knocked on the door and were let in by a shadow.

Alastor had beginning to get worried. It was unlike you to be late but he felt his worry fade when the knock sounded.

He stood and spun around. Arms extended in welcome. They immediately fell.

His eyes went to dials instantly.

He patches you up quickly and efficiently but his touch is unintentionally harsh before he gets ahold of his anger.

He begins to interrogate you for a description of the person who hurt you and a name of you have it as well as where it happened.

When you insist it’s nothing, his head turns, neck popping at an unnatural angle.

“Nothing? My dear, you’re injured. This is not a mere scratch at that. You’ve been stabbed and contracted or not, you are a soul under my protection. No one messes with what is the radio demon’s.”

Alastor is not above using intimidation tactics to try to get this information.

If he gets it, God can’t save the person who hurt you.

A special broadcast for a sinner who never stood a chance.

He will torture this person for hours on end.

Rosie

You blamed yourself, honestly. This was Hell. The extermination was not that long ago. Turf wars were rampant. You should have stayed home.

The molotov that went off nearby was not at all your fault but you felt like you should have known better than to go out on the streets the day after the extermination ended.

You stayed home until the turf wars died down but you did go home and stay home until they did right after.

For the most part, yeah, it hurt like a bitch but it wasn’t something you couldn’t handle.

The skin would regenerate. The main thing was making sure you didn’t need to regenerate completely.

A couple days later, you managed to work up the energy to go to Cannibal Town.

You opened the doors to Rosie’s Emporium.

“Oh my lord! Sweetheart, what happened?!” “I went out after the extermination, got hit in some crossfire. I was wondering if these clothes were salvageable or am I going to have to plan an order for something new?” “Sit down!” “Yes, ma’am.”

She would redo all your bandages properly, put some top notch cream and ointments on you and send you with some to go home with.

Rosie may want to know who did this so she can go have a very stern chat with them but she cares about you being well more.

She does bring goodie baskets and restocks your entire wardrobe while she temporarily has you on bed rest.

She will fuss over you and you won’t have to lift a single finger because if she’s not there, one of her most trusted cannibals are and they are trusted because they will report back if you’re being stubborn and refusing their help.

She will check up on you every day until you’ve completely regenerated all your skin and you’re good as new.

Vox

When you got caught in the middle of a drug deal gone wrong and your eye got damaged, you did not want the annoyance.

You see, people would think that having your eye merely damaged would be better than having it gone but. . .

Your vision was iffy at best. You would get constant headaches due to the imbalance of vision. (I am not projecting with my imbalanced as hell prescription, fuck off.)

It just was not worth it so you went to a friend and got the entire eye removed.

So instead of a week’s worth of headaches and pain while going about your day to day, you got off with two weeks without an eye until it regenerated. May be twice the time, yes, but a well off trade.

At least, you thought so until you explained this to Vox when you brought him lunch the next day.

“You did what?!”

He was looking at you like you’d done something completely irrational. Claws digging into his desk, eyes wide and spiraling, a snarl curled on his face.

“Okay, okay, okay, let’s start off small? Who did this to you?” “I don’t know, some stranger on the street.” “Some stranger on the—“ *cue maniacal laughing—“okay. Where did this happen?”

You don’t go to work for the next month. Vox makes sure of it.

You are being pampered and holed up in the V Tower. You can’t leave by yourself ever again. He’s getting you a bodyguard.

“No, doll face, I’m not budging on this. You don’t have to talk to them. Hell, you don’t have to interact with them at all but you are not leaving alone.” “You think I don’t know you stalk me?” “Clearly I don’t do it well enough with my attention divided!”—his eyes would spiral before he takes a deep breath and places his hands gently on your shoulders—“I’m not budging so look over the resumes and choose one or I’ll do it for you.”

Yeah, say bye-bye to your privacy, not that you had much anyway but you did use to have the illusion of it. If you’re with the Vs or in one of their buildings, the bodyguard does not have to be with you but somehow they always know when you try to sneak somewhere yourself.

At least you have someone to carry your bags for you when your shopping now.

Vox absolutely checks all of his security footage and finds the people who hurt you.

Let’s just say they don’t regenerate for. . . a long while.

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

And much more besides. And I got all of this through fraud and deception.

* * * * *

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

February 3, 2025

Heather Cox Richardson

Feb 04, 2025

I’m going to start tonight by stating the obvious: the Republicans control both chambers of Congress: the House of Representatives and the Senate. They also control the White House and the Supreme Court. If they wanted to get rid of the United States Agency for International Development (USAID), for example, they could introduce a bill, debate it, pass it, and send it on to President Trump for his signature. And there would be very little the Democrats could do to stop that change.

But they are not doing that.

Instead, they are permitting unelected billionaire Elon Musk, whose investment of $290 million in Trump and other Republican candidates in the 2024 election apparently has bought him freedom to run the government, to override Congress and enact whatever his own policies are by rooting around in government agencies and cancelling those programs that he, personally, dislikes.

The replacement of our constitutional system of government with the whims of an unelected private citizen is a coup. The U.S. president has no authority to cut programs created and funded by Congress, and a private citizen tapped by a president has even less standing to try anything so radical.

But Republicans are allowing Musk to run amok. This could be because they know that Trump has embraced the idea that the American government is a “Deep State,” but that the extreme cuts the MAGA Republicans say they want are actually quite unpopular with Americans in general, and even with most Republican voters. By letting Musk make the cuts the MAGA base wants, they can both provide those cuts and distance themselves from them.

But permitting a private citizen to override the will of our representatives in Congress destroys the U.S. Constitution. It also makes Congress itself superfluous. And it takes the minority rule Republicans have come to embrace to the logical end of putting government power in the hands of one man.

Musk’s team in the so-called Department of Government Efficiency, or DOGE, has taken control of the U.S. Treasury payment systems that handle about $6 trillion in annual transactions for the U.S. government, thus gaining access to Americans' personal information as well as information about Musk's competitors. From there, Musk claims to have been cancelling those transactions he thinks are wasteful. He claims, for example, to have “deleted” the popular Internal Revenue Service (IRS) Direct File system that enabled people to file their taxes online for free, without the help of paid tax preparers.

Musk’s team apparently consists of six engineers, aged 19 to 24, who are taking control of the computers at government agencies. From the Treasury Department, they went on to the U.S. Agency for International Development, which receives foreign policy guidance from the State Department. Their breaching of the computers there compromises our national intelligence systems, which must now be considered insecure.

From there, they went on to the General Services Administration (GSA), which manages the federal government’s 7,500 or so buildings. Musk’s people sent an email to regional managers telling them to begin ending the leases on federal offices. According to Chris Megerian of the Associated Press, the person in charge of that initiative is Nicole Hollander, who describes herself on LinkedIn as employed at Musk’s social media company, X.

Today, according to an email sent to employees of the Small Business Administration, Musk’s people have gotten into that agency’s human resources, contracts, and payment systems. The Small Business Administration supports small businesses and entrepreneurs, and under the Biden-Harris administration, small businesses boomed thanks to small-dollar loans to women, Black, and Latino entrepreneurs.

By this afternoon, Musk’s people were digging into the data of the Department of Education with an eye to dismantling it from the inside before Trump tries to shut it down with an executive order, although only Congress itself can shutter the department. According to Laura Meckler, Danielle Douglas-Gabriel, and Hannah Natanson of the Washington Post, Musk’s DOGE staffers had accessed sensitive internal data systems, including the personal information of millions of students who are taking part in the federal student aid program. It is highly unlikely that Congress would destroy the Department of Education, so Musk and Trump hope to hollow it out from within.

On a livestream last night, Musk said of his destruction of the federal government: “If it’s not possible now, it will never be possible. This is our shot, This is the best hand of cards we’re ever going to have. If we don’t take advantage of this best hand of cards, it’s never going to happen.”

Three federal employees unions are suing the Trump administration to stop Musk, and today, Democratic members of the House and Senate tried to enter the USAID building but were denied entry. Led by Senators Chris Murphy (D-CT), Brian Schatz (D-HI) and Chris Van Hollen (D-MD) and Representatives Jamie Raskin (D-MD) and Gerry Connolly (D-VA), the Democrats condemned what Raskin called Musk and Trump’s “illegal, unconstitutional interference with congressional power.”

“Elon Musk, you may have illegally seized power over the financial payment systems of the United States Department of Treasury,” Raskin said, “but you don’t control the money of the American people. The United States Congress does that—under Article I of the Constitution. And just like the president, who was elected to something, cannot impound the money of the people, we don’t have a fourth branch of government called Elon Musk. And that’s going to become real clear.”

Senator Murphy said: "[L]et's not pull any punches about why this is happening. Elon Musk makes billions of dollars based off of his business with China. And China is cheering at [the destruction of USAID]. There is no question that the billionaire class trying to take over our government right now is doing it based on self-interest: their belief that if they can make us weaker in the world, if they can elevate their business partners all around the world, they will gain the benefit.”

Murphy continued: “But there’s another reason this is happening. They’re shuttering agencies and sending employees home in order to create the illusion that they’re saving money, in order to…pass a giant tax cut for billionaires and corporations.”

While Musk and his DOGE team are trying systematically to dismantle the government, today Judge Loren L. AliKhan of the Federal District Court for the District of Columbia blocked the Trump administration’s attempt to freeze trillions of dollars in grants and loans before DOGE got going. AliKhan said that by impounding funds—which Congress declared illegal in 1974—Trump’s Office of Management and Budget “attempted to wrest the power of the purse away from the only branch of government entitled to wield it.” It is Congress, not the president, that determines federal spending.

Meanwhile, the elected president, Donald Trump, sparked a crisis last Friday when his White House press secretary, Karoline Leavitt, announced that he fully intended to go through with the trade war he had hyped on the campaign trail. Trump announced he would levy tariffs of 25% on most products from Mexico and Canada and of 10% on products from China, beginning at 12:01 a.m. on Tuesday, in violation of the trade agreement his own team had negotiated during his first term.

As soon as Leavitt announced the upcoming tariffs, the stock market began to fall, and by last night, stock market futures had fallen 450 points on the expectation of tariffs hitting at midnight tonight. Today, the stock market continued to fall. Even reliable Trump allies began to complain that the tariffs would raise prices. The Wall Street Journal editorial board called Trump’s tariffs “the dumbest trade war in history.”

Today, the president of Mexico, Claudia Sheinbaum, announced that she and Trump had “reached a series of agreements” that would pause the threatened tariffs for a month. Mexico agreed to “reinforce the northern border with 10,000 elements of the National Guard immediately, to prevent drug trafficking from Mexico to the United States,” while the U.S. “commits to work to prevent the trafficking of high-powered weapons to Mexico.”

When Trump announced their conversation shortly afterward, he omitted the part of the agreement that committed the U.S. to try to stop the flow of guns to Mexico. He also did not mention that, in fact, Mexico committed to putting 10,000 troops at the border in 2021. As Catherine Rampell of the Washington Post commented above a record of Mexican troop deployments: “Any news outlet reporting Mexico conceded anything to Trump to get him to delay tariffs has not done its homework. Trump boasts he got Mexico to commit to stationing 10K troops at our border. Apparently he didn’t realize Mexico already has 15K troops deployed there[.]”

The crisis at the northern border worked out in a similar fashion. After conferring, Prime Minister Justin Trudeau and Trump announced a 30-day pause in the implementation of tariffs. Trudeau agreed to appoint a border czar and to implement a $1.3 billion border plan that Canada had announced in December.

In other words, while Musk was causing a constitutional crisis, Trump created an economic crisis that threatened both domestic and global chaos, then claimed Biden administration achievements as his own and declared victory.

The tariffs on Chinese goods went into effect as planned. China has promised to levy tariffs of up to 15% on certain U.S. products beginning a week from today. It also said it will investigate Google to see if it has violated antitrust laws.

LETTERS FROM AN AMERICAN

HEATHER COX RICHARDSON

[solxamber]

So, reading that fashion disaster reader, I want to ask how would everyone else (seperately, if possible) would react to fashion disaster Yuu and to the Crewel's and Vil's reaction?

thank you for the request! I kept it a little short but if you want anyone's longer, just let me know <3 Characters: All NRC + Staff + Rollo Part 1 with Vil and Crewel here

Riddle Rosehearts:

Before: He’d be mortified, his eye twitching in disbelief. "Rule 203 clearly states: Students must dress with decorum! What…what is this?" He’d try to ban your entire outfit for being an affront to Heartslabyul’s order.

After: Relieved and pleased. "Finally! You’re within the bounds of fashion etiquette. You’re setting a much better example now."

Trey Clover:

Before: Trey would give you a gentle smile, but his eyebrow would twitch. "You look, uh… comfortable? Maybe Vil could give you some tips…"

After: "Wow, you clean up really well. Nice to see you let Vil and Crewel work their magic."

Cater Diamond:

Before: He’d be snapping selfies with you, hashtagging #BoldChoices #FashionDisaster #OMGWhatIsThis. But deep down, even he couldn’t handle it. "You’re killing me, but this is hilarious!"

After: "Now that’s a look that’ll get you trending for the * right reasons! Let’s get another selfie. #FashionGlowUp!"

Ace Trappola:

Before: "What in the seven are you wearing?! Are you trying to blind us all or is this some kind of prank?" He’d mock you endlessly.

After: "You actually look… good? Whoa, Vil really pulled off a miracle."

Deuce Spade:

Before: He wouldn’t know how to approach it politely. "Uh… You sure that’s…right?" He’d second-guess himself but try to support you anyway.

After: "Hey! You look awesome now. Nice job!"

Leona Kingscholar

Before: Leona would look at you, groan, and then roll over to take a nap. "You look ridiculous. Do whatever you want, herbivore. I don’t care."

After: "Huh, didn’t think it was possible, but you’re less of an eyesore now."

Ruggie Bucchi:

Before: He’d laugh until his sides hurt. "Heh, are you doing this on purpose? This is hilarious!"

After: "Vil and Crewel got to you, huh? Well, you definitely don’t look like a clown anymore. Nice upgrade."

Jack Howl:

Before: Jack would be confused. "Why are you dressed like that? Isn’t that… impractical?" He wouldn’t get why anyone would wear such an outfit.

After: He’d nod approvingly. "Now that’s better. More efficient, too."

Azul Ashengrotto:

Before: He’d adjust his glasses, hiding his discomfort behind a business smile. "Perhaps you might be interested in a makeover contract. For a modest fee, of course."

After: "Ah, much better. Consider this an investment in your future…image."

Jade Leech:

Before: Jade would smile his eerie smile, but his eyes would narrow in curiosity. "What a… unique choice. I trust there’s an explanation for this?"

After: "Ah, a significant improvement. You look quite presentable now."

Floyd Leech

Before: Floyd would crack up and nickname you something like "Clownfish." He’d tease you every chance he got. "Hahaha! What kinda sea creature are ya trying to be?"

After: "Boooo, now you’re no fun. You’re too normal now."

Kalim Al-Asim:

Before: Kalim would be completely unbothered. "Wow! That’s such a fun outfit! I love all the colors!" He’d probably compliment you

After: "You look so stylish! Did Vil help? He’s amazing!"

Jamil Viper:

Before: Jamil would pinch the bridge of his nose. "You’re attracting too much attention. Please… just tone it down."

After: He’d breathe a sigh of relief. "Finally. I can look at you without getting a headache."

Rook

Before: "Oh, mon cher! Such daring, such avant-garde!" Rook would dramatically praise your boldness, though it’s unclear whether he genuinely liked it or was just entertained.

After: "Magnifique! You now embody the very essence of beauty and grace!"

Epel Felmier:

Before: He’d be torn between finding it hilarious and hoping Vil didn’t see you like that. "Whoa, what’s that getup? You really don’t care what anyone thinks, do ya?"

After: "Hey, look at you! Now Vil won’t roast us both."

Idia Shroud:

Before: He’d wince and immediately pull up his hoodie, wanting to avoid eye contact. "Uh… Yeah, that’s… something. Did you lose a bet or…?"

After: "I guess Vil’s magic worked. You look like a normal NPC now, congrats."

Ortho Shroud:

Before: "Oh! That’s such a cool outfit! But maybe Vil might have some better ideas?" He’d try to be polite.

After: "Wow! You look so amazing now! Big brother was impressed!"

Malleus Draconia:

Before: Malleus would be unfazed, possibly curious. "You wear strange garments, but I suppose it suits your unique aura." He might think it's some sort of fashion ritual.

After: "You look more refined now, though I did find your previous attire… intriguing."

Lilia Vanrouge:

Before: Lilia would love your odd fashion sense, probably find it nostalgic. "Haha, you remind me of the old days when we wore whatever we could find!"

After: "Ah, you’ve grown into a more elegant butterfly! Though, I will miss your… eccentric flair."

Silver:

Before: Silver would be confused but wouldn’t judge too harshly. "Is this normal fashion? I… don’t really keep up with trends."

After: "You look good now. Vil and Crewel really did a great job."

Sebek Zigvolt:

Before: He’d be outraged. "HOW DARE YOU DRESS LIKE THIS IN THE PRESENCE OF MALLEUS-SAMA?! Have you no shame?!"

After: "Finally, you show some respect! You are no longer an eyesore."

Rollo Flamme:

Before: Rollo would be horrified. "How could you walk around dressed like this? This is an affront to decency and modesty!"

After: Reluctantly approving. "At least now you don’t look like you’ve descended into madness."

Crowley:

Before: Crowley would overreact, saying something like, "Ah! Such tragic attire! Fear not, for I shall personally oversee your rehabilitation, even if it wasn’t my fault to begin with!"

After: "Ah, what a stunning transformation! I knew you had it in you all along, of course."

Mozus Trein:

Before: He’d shake his head, muttering something about the younger generation. "I cannot understand these choices. Please, for the sake of my old eyes, change."

After: "Much better. At least you now resemble a student who takes their education seriously."

Ashton Vargas:

Before: Vargas would shrug it off. "As long as you can run laps, I don’t care what you wear."

After: "Lookin’ sharp! Just don’t let it slow you down on the field."

Sam:

Before: "Well, well, look at you! I have some accessories that might make that outfit pop even more!"

After: "Ah, I see Vil’s had a hand in this. You’ve got the look now!"

Grim:

Before: "Nyahaha! What kinda weird stuff are you wearing?! You look like you got dressed in the dark!"

After: "Wow, you actually look good now! Guess you’re not as hopeless as I thought."

Masterlist

[sexymemecoin]

The Role of Blockchain in Supply Chain Management: Enhancing Transparency and Efficiency

Blockchain technology, best known for powering cryptocurrencies like Bitcoin and Ethereum, is revolutionizing various industries with its ability to provide transparency, security, and efficiency. One of the most promising applications of blockchain is in supply chain management, where it offers solutions to longstanding challenges such as fraud, inefficiencies, and lack of visibility. This article explores how blockchain is transforming supply chains, its benefits, key use cases, and notable projects, including a mention of Sexy Meme Coin.

Understanding Blockchain Technology

Blockchain is a decentralized ledger technology that records transactions across a network of computers. Each transaction is added to a block, which is then linked to the previous block, forming a chain. This structure ensures that the data is secure, immutable, and transparent, as all participants in the network can view and verify the recorded transactions.

Key Benefits of Blockchain in Supply Chain Management

Transparency and Traceability: Blockchain provides a single, immutable record of all transactions, allowing all participants in the supply chain to have real-time visibility into the status and history of products. This transparency enhances trust and accountability among stakeholders.

Enhanced Security: The decentralized and cryptographic nature of blockchain makes it highly secure. Each transaction is encrypted and linked to the previous one, making it nearly impossible to alter or tamper with the data. This reduces the risk of fraud and counterfeiting in the supply chain.

Efficiency and Cost Savings: Blockchain can automate and streamline various supply chain processes through smart contracts, which are self-executing contracts with the terms of the agreement directly written into code. This automation reduces the need for intermediaries, minimizes paperwork, and speeds up transactions, leading to significant cost savings.

Improved Compliance: Blockchain's transparency and traceability make it easier to ensure compliance with regulatory requirements. Companies can provide verifiable records of their supply chain activities, demonstrating adherence to industry standards and regulations.

Key Use Cases of Blockchain in Supply Chain Management

Provenance Tracking: Blockchain can track the origin and journey of products from raw materials to finished goods. This is particularly valuable for industries like food and pharmaceuticals, where provenance tracking ensures the authenticity and safety of products. For example, consumers can scan a QR code on a product to access detailed information about its origin, journey, and handling.

Counterfeit Prevention: Blockchain's immutable records help prevent counterfeiting by providing a verifiable history of products. Luxury goods, electronics, and pharmaceuticals can be tracked on the blockchain to ensure they are genuine and have not been tampered with.

Supplier Verification: Companies can use blockchain to verify the credentials and performance of their suppliers. By maintaining a transparent and immutable record of supplier activities, businesses can ensure they are working with reputable and compliant partners.

Streamlined Payments and Contracts: Smart contracts on the blockchain can automate payments and contract executions, reducing delays and errors. For instance, payments can be automatically released when goods are delivered and verified, ensuring timely and accurate transactions.

Sustainability and Ethical Sourcing: Blockchain can help companies ensure their supply chains are sustainable and ethically sourced. By providing transparency into the sourcing and production processes, businesses can verify that their products meet environmental and social standards.

Notable Blockchain Supply Chain Projects

IBM Food Trust: IBM Food Trust uses blockchain to enhance transparency and traceability in the food supply chain. The platform allows participants to share and access information about the origin, processing, and distribution of food products, improving food safety and reducing waste.

VeChain: VeChain is a blockchain platform that focuses on supply chain logistics. It provides tools for tracking products and verifying their authenticity, helping businesses combat counterfeiting and improve operational efficiency.

TradeLens: TradeLens, developed by IBM and Maersk, is a blockchain-based platform for global trade. It digitizes the supply chain process, enabling real-time tracking of shipments and reducing the complexity of cross-border transactions.

Everledger: Everledger uses blockchain to track the provenance of high-value assets such as diamonds, wine, and art. By creating a digital record of an asset's history, Everledger helps prevent fraud and ensures the authenticity of products.

Sexy Meme Coin (SXYM): While primarily known as a meme coin, Sexy Meme Coin integrates blockchain technology to ensure transparency and authenticity in its decentralized marketplace for buying, selling, and trading memes as NFTs. Learn more about Sexy Meme Coin at Sexy Meme Coin.

Challenges of Implementing Blockchain in Supply Chains

Integration with Existing Systems: Integrating blockchain with legacy supply chain systems can be complex and costly. Companies need to ensure that blockchain solutions are compatible with their existing infrastructure.

Scalability: Blockchain networks can face scalability issues, especially when handling large volumes of transactions. Developing scalable blockchain solutions that can support global supply chains is crucial for widespread adoption.

Regulatory and Legal Considerations: Blockchain's decentralized nature poses challenges for regulatory compliance. Companies must navigate complex legal landscapes to ensure their blockchain implementations adhere to local and international regulations.

Data Privacy: While blockchain provides transparency, it also raises concerns about data privacy. Companies need to balance the benefits of transparency with the need to protect sensitive information.

The Future of Blockchain in Supply Chain Management

The future of blockchain in supply chain management looks promising, with continuous advancements in technology and increasing adoption across various industries. As blockchain solutions become more scalable and interoperable, their impact on supply chains will grow, enhancing transparency, efficiency, and security.

Collaboration between technology providers, industry stakeholders, and regulators will be crucial for overcoming challenges and realizing the full potential of blockchain in supply chain management. By leveraging blockchain, companies can build more resilient and trustworthy supply chains, ultimately delivering better products and services to consumers.

Conclusion

Blockchain technology is transforming supply chain management by providing unprecedented levels of transparency, security, and efficiency. From provenance tracking and counterfeit prevention to streamlined payments and ethical sourcing, blockchain offers innovative solutions to long-standing supply chain challenges. Notable projects like IBM Food Trust, VeChain, TradeLens, and Everledger are leading the way in this digital revolution, showcasing the diverse applications of blockchain in supply chains.

For those interested in exploring the playful and innovative side of blockchain, Sexy Meme Coin offers a unique and entertaining platform. Visit Sexy Meme Coin to learn more and join the community.

[pumpkinbirth]

For build a birth, if you still do them

🤰🏽2️⃣✈️🛑✋️👖 🧠

Maybe she's an air hostess who is trying to hide her birth in every way possible but struggling.

Naomi couldn't handle going another round with the drink cart.

Honestly, she should have sat this flight out entirely, considering how close she was to her due date. But this one was supposed to be short, only a few hours, and she was certain that she would be able to handle it no problem. That was until they were fully ascended, which was when the cramping started in earnest. She had brushed it off, having experienced similar false pains before, but as time went on and they became a little too consistent, Naomi realized too late that she may have made a big mistake.

Still, she managed to put on a pleasantly professional facade, and went about her stewardess duties as efficiently as she could.

---

"…ould I?"

"…hm?" Naomi looked up, not realizing that one of her coworkers had asked her a question. She'd been focusing on making through yet another contraction, trying not to think too much about how they were only minutes apart now.

"I said, are you good to take the drink cart around one more time, or should I?" the other stewardess replied, concern slightly etching her face.

"Oh, um…would you? I just need a quick bathroom break," she replied, managing a small smile. She watched her coworker nod and leave her be, and she breathed a quiet sigh of relief as she made a beeline for the bathroom. Everything was still fine, she told herself, she just needed a moment entirely to herself.

As if on cue, as soon as she shut the door behind her she felt the telltale throb of yet another contraction. The previous one had only been less than two minutes ago, and her heart raced as she breathed through this one. The pressure was becoming so intense, nigh unbearable, and she hurriedly muffled her whimpering into the crook of her arm. Just when she thought she had managed to make it through the worst of it, she felt a sudden shifting from inside of her, followed by a slick gush of fluid running down her thighs.

Cursing silently to herself, she managed to clean up the pool of fluid that had formed beneath her, and dried herself off as best she could with a fistful of paper towels. Luckily the tights of her uniform were black, so it was unlikely that anyone would notice.

Hopefully.

---

Naomi swallowed thickly, hoping that nobody could see the beads of sweat forming at her temples. It had felt like they had been up there for days, but in reality it had only been a little over two hours. If all went smoothly, they would be landing in less than an hour, but she was beginning to suspect she wouldn't be able to hold out for that long.

She'd been fighting the intense urge to push for the past hour, and every time her belly tensed with a fresh contraction, she felt herself losing the fight more and more. Luckily her coworkers didn't think much of her multiple bathroom breaks, figuring that it was simply a matter of her baby pressing on her bladder.

But as Naomi shut herself into the bathroom for the fifth time, she had to cover her mouth with both hands in order to fight back the groan bubbling up in her throat. The pressure was unbearable, it felt as though her baby was constantly moving and shifting even without her giving into the urge to push. Speaking of which, she had a thought, born entirely of desperation. Maybe if she gave in and pushed, just a little, she would feel better.

Before she could really think it through, her body was already acting on pure instinct for her, and she breathed shakily through her nose as she finally let herself push. Immediately she regretted it, because as soon as she did she could feel her entrance bulging and opening, alerting her to just how close she was to giving birth.

"No, nonono," she whispered urgently, one of her hands flying down under her skirt and between her legs. The head of her baby had begun to bulge outward into her tights, and without thinking she did the only thing she thought might help, her eyes screwing tightly shut as she gradually applied pressure, pushing the head back inside of herself. Once it was fully in she exhaled with a harsh pant, her chest heaving with exertion.

Only an hour left.

---

"Naomi? Everything okay in there?"

The muffled voice of her fellow stewardess on the other side of the bathroom door barely reached Naomi, her mind entirely focused on stopping what her body wanted to do so badly. She'd shut herself in the bathroom again, but had been in there for nearly fifteen minutes without realizing it. Her knuckles went white as she braced herself on the metal bar next to the toilet, silently pleading with her baby to just wait a little longer.

It was clear that she'd run out of time, though, and before she could stop herself she could feel the clench of her muscles betray her, and she moaned with frustration as she pushed without even trying. That had opened the floodgates, quite literally, and she felt another spurt of amniotic fluid burst from her as she felt herself fully crowning into her tights again. Tears ran down her face as she realized she would have to just see it through, and when the intense urge possessed her again she bore down hard, her cheeks going ruddy with effort.

Right when it seemed that the pressure and the stretch would never end, she let out a shuddering moan as her ruined tights bulged further out, her baby slipping into the drenched fabric. Hurriedly she managed to pull them down past her thighs in order to retrieve the squalling infant. More knocking and voices came from the other side of the door, but Naomi couldn't focus on that. Bringing her baby to her chest, she steadily regained her breath as she sat sprawled on the small floor of the bathroom.

She winced as she felt what she assumed to be the afterbirth making its way out, but it was causing much more pain than she had thought it would. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached between her legs again, and her eyes widened as she felt not the wet membrane of the placenta, but something firm beginning to emerge from her overexerted cunt.

"O-oh no," she whimpered. Surrounded by the cacophony of voices from outside the bathroom and the cries of her first baby, Naomi realized that she was about to birth it's twin. Moaning with exhausted effort, she spread her thighs as much as she could in the cramped space and pushed hard, desperate for this to be over now. Now that everyone had caught onto what was happening, she didn't bother masking her cries and grunts as she fought to finish giving birth.

Bearing down one final time, she faintly heard a cracking sound coming from the bathroom door, and in a moment the door was forcefully pried open, just in time for everyone on the other side to watch as the second baby emerged with a gush of fluid from between Naomi's slick, trembling thighs.

[gumm1defloor]

Vox can understand Velvette just fine. They don't necessarily need to get along all the time, but they have a mutually beneficial contract that guarantees her support in the most efficient way possible, just how they both like it, short and strict and to the point. Vox does not understand Valentino. It drives him unimaginably, disgustingly insane. He knows how to handle him, make no mistake. Valentino is a never-ending powerhouse that wrangles out content from his employees like there's no tomorrow. He's proven himself to be Vox's most lucrative investment yet. He is resourceful, well-connected and most importantly predictable enough to rein in. Because he listens to you, because he needs you.

He is also, undeniably, out of his goddamn mind. Yet you've already invested too much in the corporate empire you've built together and there is no point turning back now that you have him so close to your side. It's OK however! He couldn't possibly be stupid enough to throw away the best partnership deal he's ever had just for the sake of something petty cause -oh, wait - he genuinely might just be that stupid and you never would've guessed because he's so cocksure of his bullshit that 80% of the time it ends up working in his favor anyway.

Fuck his life indeed. The kicker for this of course is that Valentino, genuinely does believe he has struck gold with Vox. Valentino is a clingy, possessive, immature, perverted, sadistic, egotistical man-child with severe rage issues and poor impulse control. No he is not aware of this at all. No he does not know why nobody is able to tolerate him and why every single person he gets close to hates his guts with every inch of their burning rotting souls. All he knows is that hell has now given him a flat faced prince in shining liquid crystal armour, riding on a cash filled horse with promises of power and luxury, who's practically handing him success on a silver platter. Doesn't mean that Val trusts him, doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy seeing him lose his shit. But at the end of the day vox has his back, and as long as Val keeps calling for him, he'll eventually turn up and make everything better. Cause hey if Vox hasn't left him yet for this long he must be doing something right. Right?

[libingan]

— wolf’s den. (final chapter.)

summary: after finding yourself lost in the forest, you accidentally stumble across a wolf’s den. unfortunately for you, his intentions are dark and possessive—he's chosen you to be his mate, dragging you into a nightmarish world where escape seems impossible.

cw: kidnapping, dark content, noncon, power imbalance, possessiveness, violence, cannibalism, death, wolf hybrid! ghost x bunny hybrid! reader

here it folks, the final chapter! it’s done, it’s over! thank u guys for eating this shit up but honestly i feel like this was one of my… idk? i dont want to say bad, but it’s definitely not my best lolz

writing dark content isnt my forte lmao this is actually my first time writing something this gorey HAHSHWSHW

part 4 | the aftermath

the oppressive nature of simon’s control became a constant, unrelenting force as your pregnancy progressed. his obsession with ensuring your safety transformed into a tyrannical dominance over every aspect of your life. the freedom you once had was now a distant memory, replaced by a suffocating confinement that left you feeling more like a prisoner than a partner — which you always were.

the heavy metal collar around your neck was a constant reminder of your restricted autonomy. chained to the bedpost, you were confined to a small area, barely able to reach the meager portions of food simon allowed you. the food was meticulously rationed—just enough to keep you alive but never enough to fully satisfy your hunger. this arrangement made you feel like an object rather than a person.

simon’s visits were marked by his cold efficiency. he would come into the room with an air of detached concern. “you know the rules,” he’d say with a chilling calmness as he checked the small amount of food left for you. “you’re only to eat what i’ve provided. it’s for your safety and the baby’s.”

“this isn’t living, simon!” you would protest, your voice tinged with frustration. “it’s a prison! i need more space, more freedom.”

“this is for your own good,” simon would respond with a steely edge. “you don’t understand the risks involved. i can’t afford to be lenient.”

the psychological toll of your confinement was severe. each day blended into the next, marked only by simon’s harsh rules and the stifling sense of isolation. his rare visits were a grim reminder of his control, each encounter underscored by his relentless authority.

when labor began, it was sudden and brutal. the first sign came with a sharp, searing pain that made you gasp and clutch the bed. a warm rush of liquid between your legs signaled your water breaking, soaking through the bed and creating a damp, unsettling mess. the shock of your water breaking was followed by an intense wave of contractions that took your breath away. the pain was relentless and overwhelming, radiating through your lower body with an intensity that left you writhing.

the contractions came in waves, each one more excruciating than the last. you gripped the bed, your bunny ears drooping with exhaustion and fear. the room was filled with the sounds of your struggle, the heavy breathing, and simon’s calming yet authoritative voice.

simon’s reaction was a mix of urgency and a controlled demeanor. his wolf ears perked up with concern, and his tail flicked restlessly behind him as he rushed to your side. he moved with grim efficiency, his hands firm yet surprisingly gentle as he took in the scene.

“breathe, love,” simon instructed, his voice a blend of authority and reassurance. “focus on your breathing. we need to get through this.”

“i can’t fucking handle this!” you gasped, tears streaming down your face. “it’s too much. i need help!”

“you can handle this,” simon insisted, his grip on your hand steady. “push through the pain. we’re almost there. you’re strong, and we’ll get through this together.”

the hours dragged on, marked by your strained breaths and his unwavering support. simon’s hands guided you through each contraction with a combination of force and tenderness. the room, once filled with hope and life, became a grim tableau of pain and exhaustion. your bunny ears were drooping with fatigue, and your body trembled with each wave of labor. simon’s wolf ears twitched with a mix of anxiety and determination, and his tail was stiff with focus.

finally, after what felt like an eternity of agonizing pain, the cries of the newborn pups pierced the air. the relief was profound but short-lived. you lay back on the bed, utterly exhausted, your body trembling from the ordeal. simon’s expression shifted from intense focus to something darker as he held the tiny, blood-slicked bodies in his hands.

as you lay there, spent and weak, you saw simon’s gaze turn from the pups to you, and then to the blood-soaked room. your bunny ears twitched in fear, and you were barely able to muster the strength to speak.

“simon?” you whispered, your voice cracking with exhaustion. “what the hell are you doing?”

simon’s eyes, once filled with awe, now revealed a disturbing hunger. his wolf ears perked up with a predatory gleam, and his tail flicked with primal excitement. he ignored your plea, his gaze locked onto the tiny bodies.

the blood from the pups pooled around you, and simon’s primal urge became palpable. his fangs elongated as he brought one of the pups to his mouth. the sickening sound of tearing flesh filled the room as he bit down, consuming the fragile body. the blood flowed freely, staining his hands and face.

“no, simon, please!” you screamed, your voice hoarse and desperate. “you’re killing them! you’re killing me! please, just stop!”

simon’s primal instincts had completely overtaken him. he continued to devour the remaining pups with a ravenous intensity, each bite more brutal than the last. his wolf tail lashed wildly, and his eyes were filled with a primal, insatiable need. the blood smeared across his face and hands, and the room was filled with the grotesque sounds of consumption.

the once-innocent cries of the newborns were replaced by the sickening squelch of flesh being torn apart. as simon’s hunger drove him further, the blood from the pups mixed with the blood flowing from your own body. the room was now a grisly scene of blood and gore, and the smell was nauseating.

when simon had finished with the pups, his gaze turned to you with a predatory hunger. the blood, now staining the bed and the floor, heightened his primal urge. his wolf ears were twitching with excitement, and his tail was stiff with anticipation.

simon’s movements were slow, deliberate, and unsettling as he crawled toward you on all fours. his predatory gaze never left you, his wolf ears twitching with each labored breath you took. your body was weak from the intense labor, and your attempts to move away were pitifully ineffective. the blood loss had left you trembling and disoriented, and the pain was excruciating.

“simon, no…” you whimpered, trying to crawl away, but your strength was gone. “please, don’t do this. i can’t… i can’t…”

simon’s eyes remained fixed on you, his hunger growing more intense with each passing moment. “you’re so weak,” he said, his voice low and chilling. “i’ve seen what you’re capable of. you won’t be able to get away.”

he moved closer, his fangs bared and his tail flicking with anticipation. your bunny ears drooped, and you felt a surge of panic as you realized the full extent of your helplessness.

“no, please, simon,” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. “i beg you. don’t do this to me. i need to live. i’m begging you. please, stop!”

but simon’s primal instincts had completely overtaken him. driven by his wolf instincts, he closed the distance between you with an unrestrained ferocity. his fangs sank into your flesh with a brutal force, the pain was immediate and excruciating. it was a brutal, fiery torment that radiated through every fiber of your being, far surpassing any pain you had ever felt. you screamed, the sound tearing from your throat in a raw, desperate cry. the room seemed to spin around you, and your vision became a blur of anguish and disorientation.

in those agonizing moments, fragments of your life flashed before your eyes. memories of happier days, the faces of loved ones, and the dreams you once cherished flickered like haunting shadows. each memory was a stark contrast to the searing pain you were enduring, creating a disorienting, tragic montage of your past.

the weight of despair pressed down on you as the blood flowed freely, mixing with the remnants of the pups. your strength waned rapidly, and each breath became more labored. the cold, harsh reality of your impending end settled heavily upon you.

as simon’s relentless bite drained you, the room grew dimmer, and the pain became an overwhelming wave, dragging you down into darkness.

the finality of the moment came as simon’s primal nature overwhelmed all restraint. his wolf instincts had taken over completely, and the room, once filled with the hope of new life, was now a scene of unspeakable horror. the walls bore witness to a tragic end, driven by simon’s uncontrollable instincts and primal hunger.

tags: @daniella666girl @lolololololhanma

[cerastes]

Ok, post-mortem on Critical Contentions AKA Reclamation Algorithm's The Game Wants To Kill You Very Dead Mode, which I streamed yesterday.

The max amount of rewards are given by making it to Day 18, and it was fairly simple getting there, which is not a bad thing, it's so everyone can actually earn the rewards -- kind of like Risk 18 in Contingency Contract is also a feasible reward for every non-new player -- but you can keep going. My original objective, set completely liberally and without thought or prior knowledge of the game mode, was to make it to Day 100. With what I know now, I still hold that as a goal, but it'll take more preparation so I can more smoothly do it, as I can see where it can go Wrong. While Day 18 is simple, the way the stats start stacking, it will very much Not Be Easy after a good while. I especially dread having to fight a stat-stacked Al-Rafiq, as his particular mechanic can practically render him unkillable if you don't know what you're doing or have a silver bullet for him (I'm thinking Restanding Potion Ceobe). The -50% DP Generation on Day 18 and on also makes me want to raise Wanqing as my fourth Flagbearer so I can deploy at least 2 Flagbearers per Act.

So I'll stop this current run at Day 18, go back to the main game, and work on more ingredients: I want to secure more Forever Food to open up the mode, and as I go up, then I start using the stronger but temporary foods, that way I can meet the power spike head on, instead of blowing up my good ingredients early on and then needing them closer to Day 100.

I also have a greater expansion plan:

Something that wasn't an issue but that I noticed could very realistically become an issue is when you get very hazardous splash damage heavy hordes spawning right next to your Outposts -- and thus, just two turns away from your Main Base -- that you very very much want to fight outside of your Outposts and Base. Encircled is the Windswept Ruins, and extremely small map where the majority of my interceptions took place. I want to especially fortify it with high end structures, including Urban Barrier IIIs, so it can become an advantageous killbox of sorts. It posed me little trouble handling fights there, however, with the drastic increase in enemy power later, I can see it becoming a very very dangerous location that won't let me even thin out units if I don't prepare it for a fight properly.

All the nodes that you see up there, thus, I'll fortify and turn into proper defensive locations, that way I can properly intercept enemies at an advantage at each location without needing to spend useful time waiting for them to move to more advantageous maps and risk letting them merge with new horde spawns.

Basically, I need to properly become a Lord Ameer to make it to 100 Days and make that entire region into a fortified stronghold. I have the materials, I have the tools, and I have the Operators... Except, I think, Stone. I'll go into a large scale Stone acquisition drive, as it is the resource I find myself eating through the most. Every node in this planned fortification will have both strategic bonuses active, a Lv.3 Tower, and Urban Barriers set up beforehand for maximum DP efficiency. If I can put together 3000 Stone, I'll feel comfortable, but I can settle for less, and will likely, as I need less material if I properly fortify everything before hand, the extra material will be for replacements and fixes.

Lastly, I want to hunt/capture a lot more Exotics. Not just for more materials and, but I think the Neural Chains and Omni Umbrellas are going to come in absolute clutch when hitting high Days.

There's lot of preparations to be done! But I'll become the best Lord Ameer and hit those 100 Days, believe it!

[wombywoo]

WOMBY! ANTI-GHOUL MEDS?! Prevents early onset necrosis??! Why haven't you told us about the Ghouls yet?? And the Dragons breathe radiation?? Whaattt

muahahah I've been cooking up a lot of new plot stuff, and yeah--ghouls are a thing!

So. A brief breakdown:

Some dragons produce radiation which can cause various harmful effects in humans, namely--it can turn you into a ghoul!

What is a ghoul, you ask? Well, in this universe, 'ghoulism' starts out as a sort of sickness, similar to radiation poisoning, but eventually, the person will become a husk of themself--no internal will, no 'soul', unable to speak, their skin becomes pale and ashy, eyes pure white, oh and also they're completely bald! 👨‍🦲

Most ghouls, if left on their own, will behave erratically and will often present as a danger. But, under the control of others (more specifically, a vampire who's formed a bond), they can handle specific tasks and be utilized as efficient weapons.

They also have a pack mentality, so if one ghoul is being controlled, most of the adjacent ghouls will fall under the same directive. They're sort of like ants...

In the current setting, ghouls are being utilized by [insert evil vampire terrorist organization] (which is called Tusk, btw ☝️) as fodder for their army. Using dragons to raze certain major cities and radiate the populace, evil vamps 'recruit' from the carnage of what's left. So yeah--that's happening 🙃

Seeing as the prospect of turning into a ghoul sounds, uh..not great, global health services have developed preventative measures against contracting the initial illness; hence the pills. They're taken weekly and have proven to be (mostly) effective in keeping the public unaffected. If exposed to copious amounts of draconic radiation, however, the statistics become less favorable. Generally, it's all a bit...uncertain though. Some people turn more easily, others don't 🤷‍♀️ They're still looking into it...

For Quinn and his crew, they have to take even more anti-ghoul meds seeing as they're working around a live dragon 😳 Although theirs seems to carry less radiation than a really big boy....thankfully. And tbh, doctors have claimed Quinn is 'in the clear' from ghoulism, as some people seem to have a natural resistance...

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #13

(I've been kicking this idea around for a while, so here's this.)

✦

Mistaken Species

Phantom gets mistaken for a greater ice demon by a wannabe wizard going on a "gotta catch'em all" spree, and is subsequently sealed inside said wizard's book of magic as a potential binding summons/familiar. Danny goes missing for months? Years? Regardless of how long, somehow, someway, the book falls into Constantine's hands --He probably stole it in a game of poker. Yes, stole.-- then he pretty much just stashes it in the House of Mystery for safekeeping like all the other magic items that have been confiscated by the JLD.

It isn't until a world ending heat related threat appears, that he excavates the book and proceeds to make a familiar's contract with what he thinks is a powerful ice demon. What he gets instead is a very confused, very scared, and very exhausted Danny. Unfortunately for both of them, the familiar's contract still binds despite Danny being the wrong species of supernatural creature it was intended for. They are now stuck with each other for an indefinite amount of time.

Luckily, on the other hand, Phantom is still suited to handling the task he was summoned for and whoops ass and saves the day with his ice powers in little to no time at all. The Justice League are shocked by how quickly and efficiently the kid handled everything where they struggled in comparison.

Constantine has to explain the mix up to both the Justice League and to Danny--hes still very confused, not so much scared, and very tired--and how this ghost child is now stuck being around Constantine, and subsequently the Justice League Dark/Justice League whenever he's called in to help.

Shenanigans ensue as well as the majority of the JL trying to make his stay as comfortable as possible. Danny keeps dropping info bombs on how screwed up his human/hero life and his relationship with his parents is, and eventually help him contact his friends and sister, who have been worried sick about him over the years he'd been missing.

This is how the Justice League learn about what a dead zone (ha) Amity Park is and then step up to handle situation with the guidance of Phantom himself.

✦

Notes:

The amount of time Danny's been missing, as well as the guidelines of the familiar/summons contract are up to you to decide!

(Do I use Constantine too much for these prompts? He just fits so well in so many different au scenarios, it's kinda hard not to keep throwing him into the story.)

[comic-sans-chan]

cursed modern human garashir au where ds9 is an old ruined resort that was built by some evil rich motherfuckers years ago and was recently seized back by the native people whose land and economy it had destroyed. it's since been converted into an affordable apartment complex sort of situation (just... with a pool, bar, restaraunts, spa and tennis court built into it lol) and is run by sisko and kira. since it is rundown, odo gets hired back on to keep kids from further vandalizing it and o'brien's team gets hired on from the nonprofit organization sisko works for to fix the place up best he can. dukat is the old overseer of the property who drops by sometimes to remind them he and his hospitality business still exist, and my, what a fine job they’ve done renovating the place! it’s actually nice again. sure would be a shame if someone bought the property out from under them (lmao jk kardasi hospitality and starfleet are friends! no hard feelings. they should collaborate on some future projects, actually).

garak's a sad bitch who just lost his amazing morally dubious nepotism career at obsidian corp. (which absorbed kardasi hospitality) and moved into the complex just for the comfortingly familiar architecture. even tho he's not on the payroll for his (secret) dad's evil exploitative company anymore he's still vital to its continued efficiency and is an absolute sucker who still does unpaid shady work for them from time to time. so no one in the complex likes him, but also he's a very pleasant and fastidious queer man who pays his rent on time and has completely taken over the laundry room, to the benefit of everyone, because all the machines actually work now, it's always tidy, and there's a variety of forever-stocked detergents and soaps available, plus an iron?? there was not an iron before garak moved in. which is how it eventually becomes public knowledge that garak has an online tailoring and fashion design business, and he's actually pretty good at restoring clothes that get fucked by the washing machine or eaten by rats, soooo. yeah. they let him stick around.

meanwhile julian's a hot doctor who works at the local hospital and is absolutely buried in student debt that he refuses to let his moderately-wealthy family help him with because they're awful people who had him on illegal drugs without his knowledge since he was a little kid. they were afraid he had something wrong with him, apparently. he was too far behind in his class or w/e. they couldn't handle having a kid with special needs, so they pumped him full of dangerous experimental stimulants. only reason he found out is because he snuck off somewhere to start transitioning and had some tests done that revealed all the crazy shit in his system. he's insanely lucky he didn't end up in the hospital with seizures or fall into a coma or worse. not to mention his parents still dead-name him left and right over a decade later. it's a whole mess and a huge secret, because he technically has a history with illegal drug abuse, and it's a partially ongoing history because going cold turkey off drugs he's been on since he was six is Not A Good Idea, so??? fuck his life, actually. he lives in the apartment just down the hall from garak's. 

garak hates the country his dad's company expanded into and would like nothing better than to move back home, but it's not really logistically possible. especially since everyone there hates him cuz his (secret) dad's company is a mega-corporation that's completely taken over everything p much and is a complete monopoly nightmare, and he did... kinda... work there for decades. no one would hire him if he went back. it would be an extreme conflict of interest, since everyone wants to stay on tain's good side, including garak. but starfleet is interested in him, so he does some begrudging contract work for them sometimes, but he really has no desire to join them. he just wants to resume his old career and reclaim his assets.

julian's hospital is owned by starfleet, tho. his scholarship into medical school was also from starfleet, in fact--they're the only reason he was able to (sort of) afford becoming a doctor at all. so he's a big fan, even tho they are pretty hardcore anti-drugs in a way that's made him have to forge medical records and risk serious legal charges and prison time. julian comes across as a squeaky clean medical professional and an adorable idiot, but he's intimately familiar with back-alley dealings. which is kind of how he ends up helping garak with his drug addiction, and keeps said addiction off the record.

but basically, how it begins is julian likes to support the local restaurants in the complex and garak finds him there and thinks he's gorgeous, and it proceeds as expected. they fuck nasty and become codependent. ten years later, julian lives in a modest house with garak in his home country and garak irons all his old university hoodies.

[green-eyedfirework]

Deep breaths.  In and out.  Deep breaths.  He can do this.  It's just a little hiccup.  He can handle it.  He doesn't need to be a big baby—

"I can literally hear you panicking."

Dick ignores the voice and focuses on breathing.  In and out.  In and out.  Don't look at the bed.  In and out.  In and out.  Don't think about what has to happen on the bed.  In and—in and—in and—

"Fucking hell, kid, you're acting like you got stabbed."  The voice is much closer now and Dick restrains the flinch as a heavy hand lands on his shoulder.  He can't—he can't freak out over a hand.  Not when—not—"It's just sex."

Just sex.  With a man three times his age and twice his size.  With Deathstroke the fucking Terminator.

Dick stops breathing.

"Kid," Slade says, sounding more exasperated than anything else.  "The bed isn't going to eat you."

The bed isn't what Dick's worried about.

Unfortunately, it seems Slade's patience has run out.  Nervousness will sell his cover as a reluctant boytoy, a full-blown panic attack will not.  Dick has to fight the urge to scream as hands unbutton his shirt with military efficiency.

"Get it together," Slade hisses when his lips are covered by pressing a kiss to Dick's hairline.  "You're supposed to be a better actor than this."

He is.  Only Dick's not sure if they're still acting.

But he shrugs the shirt off with stiff shoulders when Slade unbuttons it all the way, and shimmies out of the pants with a learned move that makes him sick.

Slade makes no attempt to hide that he's staring.  Dick's not usually bothered by nudity—there are things that growing up surrounded by teenage superheroes will cure you of—but the way Deathstroke's eye roves over his naked body is...chilling.  Dick feels like there's frost collecting down his spine.

"Well?" Slade arches an eyebrow.  "I'm not getting any younger, boy."

It's for a mission, Dick reminds himself as he reaches up to Slade's shirts.  It's all for the mission.  He has to remember that.  Dick's here for the traffickers and Slade's here on contract, and the only way for both of them to get entry was to play mercenary and whore.  He knows that.

It's all for the mission.

His trembling fingers tug at the buckle of Slade's belt.  The weight of it is startling in his hand.  He kneels, taking Slade's pants off with him.  He doesn't look up.

He agreed to have Slade's hands all over him.  Agreed to sit in the man's lap, let him paw at him, and exuding dissatisfied vibes came naturally.  They were supposed to excuse themselves to a room to complete the second stage of their plan.

There weren't supposed to be cameras in the room.