#If you were here for the original i’m sorry

[cheshireliam]

"Surprise Bag 2025" Story Sale: The Villain Became A Plushie!?

Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

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Ring was turned into a plushie. 

(He’s incredibly adorable, but… he’s also so dirty, it's unbelievable.) 

The adorable plushie version of him was covered from head to toe in grime. 

Kate: What happened to you on the way here?

Ring: I crawled under a shelf in the hallway. 

Kate: ? Why would you…? 

Ring: Because I saw this. 

Kate: … Oh! 

Ring took an earring out of his pocket and gave it to me.

It was the one I thought I’d lost the other day. 

Ring: You looked so sad talking about losing it. 

Ring: I saw it under the shelf when I shrank. 

Ring: It looked like what you described, so I thought…

Ring: If it could help me find something you’d lost, then maybe having this body isn’t so bad. 

Kate: Ring… thank you so much. 

The realisation that he got himself dirty just to retrieve my lost earring squeezed my heart, I was full of gratitude and wanted to do something for him in return. 

Kate: Please let me clean you as a way to thank you! 

Ring: Wha— 

I grabbed both of his little hands and held them tightly. 

Kate: You can’t wash yourself with these hands, can you? 

Kate: Leave it to me. I’ll make sure you’re all fluffy and clean! 

Ring: W-wait a second! 

Kate: Don’t worry. I used to wash my plushies on my own when I was a child, so I have lots of experience! 

Ring: No, that's not the— uwahh! 

Lifting Ring up, I climbed into the bathtub with him in my arms and bunched up the hem of my skirt. 

Ring: Ahh, your legs! I can see your thighs! 

Kate: Ah, I'm so sorry! They must be unsightly… 

Ring: They’re not unsightly, if anything they're beautiful… wait, no! I can do this myself. 

I rolled up my sleeves and grabbed the shower head while Ring was flailing around in panic inside the bathtub. 

Kate: I’m going to turn on the water. I’ll be careful not to get it on your face. 

Ring: Uwah!

He yelped in surprise when gently showered with hot water.

Kate: I’ll start washing you now. Let’s start with your head… 

Ring: You really don't have to do this for me. 

Kate: But you can’t reach your head. 

Ring: Ugh… 

His little hands couldn’t reach past the top of his ears.

Seeing how strongly he protested, I turned off the shower and looked him in the eyes. 

Kate: Do you really hate it…?

I had offered to wash him as an act of gratitude, but it made him more uncomfortable than expected. 

I started thinking maybe I should stop, but it turned out that my worries were unnecessary— 

Ring: … I don’t. 

Kate: Huh?

Ring: I don’t hate… being washed by you. 

Ring reached out his tiny hand and touched the hem of my skirt. 

Ring: I’ll be counting on you. 

He lifted his head and gave me a determined look. 

…

Kate: The dirt really isn’t easy to get off, huh. 

Ring: … ggh.

Focusing the shower on the dirtiest spots, I scrubbed gently yet thoroughly.

The dirty water swirled away down the drain as he gradually became cleaner.

But hot water alone wasn’t enough to clean off the tougher stains.

Unexpectedly, Ring began trembling and forced his words out through his clenched teeth. 

Ring: … This isn’t over yet?

Kate: No, because hot water just isn't enough. 

Kate: Oh, lift up your arms.

As I scrubbed under his arms while still thinking about how to tackle the stubborn stains, Ring suddenly stood up.

Ring: I’m at my limit.

Kate: Eh? Kyaa—

Ring: Whoa—

In an instant, something sprang out before my eyes. 

Startled, I let go of the shower head and was drenched in hot water. 

When I pulled myself together, I noticed that Ring had returned to his original form and was now hovering over me. 

Ring: Sorry, it’s my fault for standing up so suddenly… are you hurt?

Kate: I-I’m fine. 

Water dripped from his hair down to his cheek, and his soaked inner shirt clung tightly to his skin, revealing his muscular figure. 

Ring’s toned body was now clearly visible through his wet shirt. 

Muscular arms, bony hands, sharp features… everything about him exuded an aura of masculinity—. 

Kate: … Kate. 

He called my name in a feverish voice and reached toward me. 

Kate: Achoo! 

I let out a loud sneeze and he quickly scrambled off me.

Ring: Sorry, use this. 

He grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped me in it, but he was startled by how cold I'd gotten as soon as his hand touched my arm. 

Kate: Whoa— 

Suddenly, he pulled me into his arms right there in the bathtub. 

Ring: You’ll catch a cold. 

(Could it be that Ring’s trying to warm me up?) 

The thought of him hugging me to keep me warm was so adorable, I couldn't bring myself to say I’ll just go change out of my wet clothes. 

(... This makes me happy, so I want to stay like this a little longer.) 

As I enjoyed the unfamiliar warmth of his body, he gently brushed away the strands of wet hair clinging to my cheek. 

Ring: I'm all clean again. 

Ring: Thanks, Kate. 

(I didn’t know what to do when I first saw he’d turned into a plushie… but now, I feel like we’ve grown a little closer and that makes me happy.) 

We both laughed, and a few seconds later, Ring suddenly shot up with his face bright red. 

He tried to get out of the bathtub, only to slip and fall. 

… Let’s keep the last part a secret between us. 

[nocturnebite]

──── 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇

── 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 they're the only ones who remember. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 it takes forever. 𝑬𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒇 it hurts. They will always love you, no matter what.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: bf! ot7 x sick!female! reader 𝒕𝒘: fluff, reader losing memory, lost love making a comeback, slight arguing 𝒘𝒄: 400-500ish per member (about 3.5k total)

𝒂𝒔𝒉'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔: this was originally the whole inspiration behind my "when we were whole fic".. so don't come at me for them being similar.. i wrote these then got obsessed with the concept and decided to write a whole a$$ fic ab it. but i couldn't let these go to waste.. ENJOY LOVES

Heeseung – “The Worst Before the Better”

The doctor’s voice echoes in Heeseung’s head even days later: “It can be treated… but it will likely get worse before it gets better.”

Heeseung had clung to the word treated like a lifeline. But no one had prepared him for this — for the way your memory began unraveling even faster, slipping through your fingers like water no matter how tightly he tried to hold you together.

You sit curled on the couch now, wrapped in a blanket and staring at him like he’s someone you used to know. Heeseung kneels in front of you, voice calm, though his hands tremble as they rest gently on your knees. “It’s me, baby. I’m right here. You’re safe.”

But your lips quiver and your voice cracks, a frightened whisper: “I remember you yelling at me. I remember us screaming. Why were we always fighting?”

Heeseung’s heart clenches. You don’t remember the quiet mornings or your late-night giggles tucked under the sheets. You don’t remember the way he kissed your nose every time he walked past you or the playlist he made you on your anniversary. No — right now, your brain has brought up every moment he regrets.

You don’t see the man who held your hand through every dizzy spell. You see the version of him from that night — when he got overwhelmed, when he raised his voice and you cried and he hated himself after. The memory has taken root now, front and center, and it’s all you can grasp.

Heeseung swallows the lump in his throat and rests his forehead on your knee, voice barely above a whisper. “I was scared… that I was losing you even then. I didn’t know how to handle it. But I’ve never stopped loving you. Not for one second.”

You stare down at him, and he knows you’re trying. He sees the pain in your eyes. The fear. He wishes he could erase it all, take every bad memory and shoulder it himself.

When you start crying, something inside him shatters. “I’m sorry,” you say. “I don’t know why I can’t remember the good things. I want to— I want to remember how much I loved you.”

Heeseung climbs up beside you on the couch and pulls you into his chest. You tremble in his arms like you might break. “You still love me,” he whispers. “It’s still in you. Even if your brain’s having trouble finding it, your heart knows me. You came back to me once. You will again.”

You fall asleep in his arms that night, tear-streaked and quiet. Heeseung stays awake, staring at the ceiling. The meds are supposed to help eventually. But what if they don’t? What if this is all that’s left?

No — he won’t let that happen.

The next morning, he begins keeping a memory journal for you. Pages and pages of everything beautiful. Photos. Receipts. Drawings. Letters.

So even if you forget again, the proof of your love won’t disappear.

Jay – “Pieces of You”

Jay had been strong through the whole thing — or at least, that’s what he told everyone. Quiet. Collected. Devoted. But when the doctor told him your treatment would make things worse before they got better, something inside him cracked.

And now, he’s watching the person he loves most unravel in front of him — not from the illness, but from the side effects of the cure.

You forget simple things first — what day it is, whether you’ve eaten. But then the darkness gets deeper. You flinch when he raises his hand to reach for something too quickly. You ask him why he’s here. You pull away from his touch. “We broke up, didn’t we?” you ask one night, shaking. “Why are you still here?”

Jay freezes.

You remember the fights.

You remember the distance.

You remember the hurt.

But not the apologies. Not the nights he stayed up rubbing your back until you fell asleep. Not the way he held you through every breakdown, even when you screamed at him to leave.

He grips the edge of the kitchen counter until his knuckles are white. “We didn’t break up,” he says softly, trying to stay steady. “I was a jackass sometimes. But I never left. I never wanted to.”

You bite your lip. “Then why does it hurt so much?”

He walks over and kneels in front of you, voice low and thick with emotion. “Because love isn’t always soft. Sometimes it hurts. Sometimes we make mistakes. But I’ve spent every day since then trying to be better for you.”

You’re crying now, shaking your head. “I’m scared, Jay. What if I only ever remember the bad stuff?”

Jay’s jaw clenches, and for a second, the weight of it all nearly topples him. But he takes a deep breath and gathers you into his arms, wrapping you up like he’s trying to hold your entire world together. “Then I’ll remind you of the good things. Every single day. I’ll rebuild everything you forget until you see me — really see me — again.”

He starts small. Playing your favorite songs in the kitchen. Making your favorite snacks. Wearing that hoodie you always used to steal. He even pulls out the little notebook you wrote him love notes in during your early days — and watches your eyes linger on the pages like they almost spark something.

Even if some days you cry and ask him to leave.

He never does.

Even if some nights you wake up in a panic and ask where you are.

He holds you until you fall asleep again, whispering stories about your first date, your inside jokes, the time you made fun of his hair and then kissed him ten seconds later.

And slowly, he sees the pain start to crack.

One day, your eyes catch his — just for a second — and something in your expression softens. And you say, “You’re… always here.”

Jay smiles, broken but proud. “Yeah. I always will be.”

Jake – “The Breaking Point”

Jake had never thought love could feel so helpless.

When the doctor told him the treatment would worsen your memory before improving it, he nodded and held your hand tightly, trying to stay hopeful. “We’ll get through it,” he promised. And he meant it.

But no one warned him what it would feel like when you started forgetting him — not just his name or your anniversary, but who he was to you.

Some nights, you woke up terrified, pushing him away, whispering, “Why are you here? I don’t know you.”

Some days, you’d cry uncontrollably, begging him to leave, convinced he was just another person who’d hurt you in the past.

And then there were the worst days — when you remembered just enough to hate him. The bad fights. The cold silences during your rough patches. The time he left you crying in the living room after a terrible argument because he didn’t know how to fix things back then.

“I remember you walking out on me,” you say one afternoon, voice hoarse and flat. “I remember how lonely that felt.”

Jake’s chest tightens. He sits on the edge of the bed, hands folded between his knees. “I was scared. I didn’t know how to help you yet. I thought giving you space was the answer. But it was the worst decision I ever made.”

You glance at him, skeptical. “Then why are you here now?”

Jake lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes glassy. “Because I learned. I messed up, but I learned. And I’m not going anywhere again — not even if you forget me every single day.”

He sets his phone down on the nightstand. It’s been recording short videos for weeks — tiny moments, little clips. You and him dancing in the living room. Laughing in the car. The way your eyes sparkle when you tease him.

“I made you these,” he says gently. “In case it gets bad. So you’d see how much I love you. How happy we were.”

You reach for the phone with trembling hands and press play.

And for the first time in days, Jake watches your expression soften. A faint smile tugs at your lips. Tears gather in your eyes — not from fear, but from something deeper. Recognition. Emotion.

A whisper escapes you: “I think… I remember this.”

Jake can’t hold it in anymore. He crawls into bed and pulls you close, burying his face in your shoulder. He doesn’t cry often, but tonight, the tears fall freely.

“I’ll remind you as many times as it takes,” he chokes out. “Even if you forget me every morning… I’ll make you fall in love with me every night.”

And you let him hold you.

Even if it’s fleeting — even if tomorrow, it fades again — tonight, there’s something. A spark of memory. A spark of you.

Sunghoon – “Please Don’t Forget Me”

Sunghoon had always been composed, cool on the outside even when the world inside him cracked. But nothing — not even the grueling competitions or long, sleepless trainee nights — had prepared him for this.

Not for watching the love of his life fade in and out of their shared world like a ghost. Not for seeing you smile one moment and flinch the next.

And definitely not for hearing you whisper, “I think I used to hate you.”

It rips through him.

You were doing better — or so he’d thought. But then the doctor’s words echoed again: “The meds might make it worse before they make it better. You’ll need to be patient.”

He’s patient. He tries. He sits by your side and tells you stories of how you first met, how you used to warm his cold fingers in winter, how you hated coffee ice cream, but always bought it because he loved it. He even laughs softly when you roll your eyes at him.

But then you start remembering the worst versions of him — the sharp words said in stress, the silent treatments he thought would protect you from his own pain. And they stick longer than any of the good memories.

“Why did you yell at me so much?” you ask quietly one night, staring at the ceiling.

Sunghoon swallows thickly. “I… I didn’t know how to handle everything. I was hurting too. And I thought silence would make it go away.”

You blink at him. “You always looked like you hated me.”

“I never hated you,” he says instantly, voice hoarse. “I hated myself for not being better for you.”

That night, you don’t speak again. But your hand finds his under the covers — slow, unsure. And it stays there.

Days blur together. Some are worse than others. One afternoon, you forget his name. Another, you ask if he’s your nurse. He pretends it doesn’t cut him, but when he gets home, he cries in the shower until the water runs cold.

Then one night, you wake up in a panic — breathing fast, eyes wide — and when he rushes to you, you grab him by the shirt and whisper, “Don’t leave. Please don’t leave.”

His arms wrap around you instantly, strong but shaking. “I’m not going anywhere. Even if you forget me a thousand times, I’ll stay here — reminding you that I love you. Every time.”

And slowly, his consistency begins to win. You start trusting him again. You laugh a little more. Some mornings, you remember that he takes his coffee black and that he sleeps on the left side of the bed. Some nights, you whisper his name like a secret.

Until one night, while he’s holding you close, you trace your finger over his jaw and whisper, “You’re my boyfriend, right?”

He freezes. “Yeah. I am.”

A tear rolls down your cheek. “I think I loved you before.”

Sunghoon exhales like he’s been holding his breath for weeks, pressing a trembling kiss to your forehead.

“You still do,” he whispers. “Even if you forget again tomorrow… I’ll be right here.”

Sunoo – “I’ll Remember Enough for Both of Us”

Sunoo never believed his sunshine could dim.

You were the light of his life — always humming in the kitchen, leaving lipstick on his cheek, wrapping your arms around him when the world was too loud. He loved you with a sweetness so complete it hurt sometimes.

So when the doctor said the treatment might worsen your memory before it got better, Sunoo told himself he could handle it. That he’d smile through it for you. That his strength would be enough for both of you.

But then came the days you forgot his name.

The days you looked at him like a stranger — scared, distant.

The nights you recoiled from his touch.

And worst of all, the moments you remembered only the pain.

“You used to be cruel,” you told him one morning. Your voice was quiet but firm, eyes hazy. “You never let me breathe.”

Sunoo blinked, throat tightening. “What?”

“You were clingy. Controlling. I think I wanted to leave.”

His heart broke clean in two. “No, baby… I—I was afraid of losing you. I held on too tightly, and I hurt you, I know that now. But I’ve changed. I swear I have.”

You stared at him for a long time, then turned away.

That night, Sunoo sat alone in the hallway, back against the door, crying silently into his knees. He hadn’t been perfect. But he’d loved you with everything. And now it was like all you could see were the cracks.

But even through the pain, he never gave up.

He filled your world with softness. Laughter. Warm food. Scented candles you once said reminded you of spring. Sticky notes on the mirror that read “You’re beautiful” and “You love me, remember?”.

And one day… you did.

You were sitting on the couch, half-asleep, when you looked up at him with glassy eyes and whispered, “You used to dance in the kitchen with me… even when there wasn’t music.”

Sunoo’s heart stopped.

You blinked, confused. “Why did you do that?”

He smiled, a tear slipping down his cheek. “Because I wanted you to know I’d follow your rhythm no matter what.”

That night, he held you in bed like you were made of something fragile and sacred, whispering every soft thing he’d ever wanted to tell you into your skin.

“If you forget me again,” he said softly, “just know… I’ll always be the one waiting. The one who loves you even when you don’t remember how to love yourself.”

And in the quiet of that moment, with your head on his chest and your hand in his, it was enough.

Because even if your memories slipped again tomorrow — tonight, you were his.

Jungwon – “You’re Still My Home”

Jungwon was always steady. Reliable. The anchor in every storm.

But this… this wasn’t a storm he could brace for.

When the doctor explained the side effects — that the medication might make things worse before they improved, that you could lose more memories, deeper ones — he’d only nodded, jaw clenched tight.

Because what else could he do?

He’d promised to stand by you no matter what, and he meant every word. But he never imagined watching you forget him, forget your life together, forget yourself.

Some mornings you woke up beside him and screamed.

Some afternoons you wandered the halls in silence, asking where you were.

And some nights… you remembered just enough to hurt him.

“You always left,” you told him once, staring blankly at the window. “You loved your job more than me. You missed appointments. You missed me.”

And it was true — in the past. He had been too focused on his career. He’d thought he had time to make it up to you.

He never imagined your memory would turn time into something borrowed.

“I was wrong,” he whispered, kneeling in front of you. “I didn’t know how to balance it all back then. But I never stopped loving you. Not once.”

You didn’t respond. You just stood up and walked past him.

That night, he curled up on the couch, wide awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering how many more pieces of you would slip away before the treatment started to work.

But even through the fear, he didn’t leave.

He adjusted his schedule so he could work from home. He learned how to cook your favorite meals — the ones you didn’t always remember liking. He started writing down every moment you did remember — even if it lasted just a few minutes — and tucked them into a little leather-bound journal.

Until one morning… he found you sitting on the floor with that journal in your lap.

“I think you loved me a lot,” you whispered, voice shaking. “And I think… I did too.”

His chest ached as he dropped to his knees beside you. “You still do,” he said softly. “You just can’t feel it all the time right now. But it’s there.”

And when you turned to him — really looked at him — something in your gaze softened.

“I think I feel safe with you.”

He exhaled, pulling you gently into his arms. “You are safe. Always.”

And even if the road ahead was still foggy, filled with starts and stops and painful relapses… Jungwon would walk it with you. Every step.

Because no matter how much you forgot — he remembered enough for both of you.

And you would always be worth waiting for.

NI-KI – “Even If You Forget, I’ll Still Be Yours”

It scared him.

He was too young to be this scared. But watching you slip away, memory by memory, was the kind of fear that left Ni-ki hollow. Angry at the world. Angry at himself.

When the doctors said the new meds might make things worse before better, he didn’t believe them at first.

But then you forgot what city you were in.

Then his birthday.

Then his face.

He tried not to show it, but it gutted him. Every time you blinked at him like he was just some kid, like he wasn’t the one who stayed up all night playing video games beside you just to hear your laugh, or made midnight ramen when your cravings hit, or memorized every playlist you’d ever made.

And the worst part?

When you did remember — it was always the pain.

“You used to yell,” you said once, tears brimming. “I don’t think you liked me that much.”

“I never yelled at you,” he whispered, stunned. “I yelled when I was scared. I didn’t know how to handle all of this, and I took it out on myself — not you. But I never stopped loving you.”

You just stared. Like the words made no sense.

Ni-ki had never felt more helpless in his life.

But he didn’t walk away.

He started over. Every single day.

He introduced himself with a soft smile when you didn’t know his name. He told you stories about “a girl he used to love” — hoping that somewhere in those tales, you’d find yourself. He bought you the exact same stuffed animal from your first date. Played your favorite song and watched your eyes flicker, just for a moment, with something like recognition.

Then one night, he came home late and found you curled up in his hoodie on the couch.

“You used to hold me like this,” you murmured sleepily, barely awake. “Didn’t you?”

Ni-ki crouched beside you, fingers trembling as he brushed your hair back. “I did,” he whispered. “And I still want to.”

“Do I… do I make you happy?” you asked, eyes half-lidded.

He laughed — breathless, cracked. “You’re my entire happiness.”

And for that one night, you didn’t forget.

You let him hold you, kiss you gently, bury his face in your neck and cry like a boy lost in the storm — because for once, you were still there.

And even if tomorrow you forgot again… he wouldn’t stop fighting.

Because Ni-ki didn’t fall in love with your memory.

He fell in love with you.

And even if you couldn’t remember him — he would never stop remembering you.

tl: (read rules before asking to be added to any list ᥫ᭡. )

[orellazalonia]

Oops, I Joined a Cult Again

Summary: You joined a cult. That’s it. (Bucky Barnes x chaotic!reader)

Word Count: 900+

A/N: Same as the unhinged/chaotic reader series, supposed to be shorter but then I added more group chat shenanigans. I wanted something quick while I work on other stuff. Sorry if it’s messy. Happy reading!!!

Main Masterlist | Original Fic

Bucky Barnes had one job: watch your back on the infiltration mission.

He didn’t know that meant literally watching you disappear into a torchlit temple deep in the mountains and emerge forty-eight hours later in robes, glowing, smiling cheerfully, and being worshiped as the reincarnation of a snake god.

“They call me The Hissening,” You whispered, eyes far too wide, far too smug.

“I told you not to touch the statue,” Bucky muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as the robed people behind you chanted in perfect sync: “HISSSSSSS.”

-

48 HOURS EARLIER

The briefing was simple. Infiltrate and investigate a rising cult rumored to be a Hydra front. No weapons. No overt powers. In and out.

Naturally, Tony turned to you and said, “You’re on distraction duty. Just… go be yourself.”

You took it as a compliment. It was not.

You and Bucky parachuted into the outskirts of the mountains under cover of night, both in tactical gear. Silent and focused… until you turned to him mid-descent and yelled, “DO YOU THINK CULTS HAVE SNACKS?”

“…What?”

“LIKE HOLY GRAHAM CRACKERS OR- wait, no, Blessed Chex Mix!”

He didn’t respond. He just stared straight ahead, wondering for the millionth time what cosmic punishment he was paying for to be partnered with you on this particular mission.

The problem was never that you were bad at missions. In fact, in combat, you were terrifying. Strategic. Surgical.

But in deep cover? You were yourself, which is how exactly five minutes after entering the temple courtyard, you said:

“Nice snake statue. Can I boop it?”

And when the head priest responded, “Only the Chosen One may lay a finger upon the sacred Fang of Enlightenment,” You touched it immediately, whispered “boop,” and passed out.

When you woke up, glowing faintly with what may have been divine energy (or some type of poisoning), the cult declared you their prophesied leader.

You didn’t correct them.

-

BACK TO PRESENT

Bucky had finally gotten inside. Posing as a new recruit, hood up, mouth shut, inner turmoil vibrating at a ten. He spotted you instantly. You were standing on a golden platform, arms open, and being fanned with palm leaves.

“Hey,” He hissed when he reached you. “Mission. Hydra. Ringing any bells?”

You waved vaguely. “They have really good soup here.”

“This is not the time for soup.”

You nodded solemnly. “There is always time for soup.”

Someone handed you a ceremonial staff. You took it. It was sparkly.

You then whispered to Bucky, “So here’s the thing… I might’ve said we should cleanse our enemies in a fire of spiritual rebirth. Which they interpreted as actual fire. So, like… maybe be cool about that.”

He blinked at you.

“You started a holy war, didn’t you.”

You smiled brightly. “Only a small one.”

That night, under cover of darkness, the two of you escaped; you still in full ceremonial garb, Bucky dragging you by the elbow while you shouted goodbye to your “disciples.”

One of them threw a snake at you in farewell. You caught it. You named it Gary.

Steve, upon your return, asked what happened.

You saluted and said, “I was a god for three days and it changed me. Also I have this soup recipe now.” You handed him a scroll. When he opened it, it was blank.

Bucky looked at you, exhausted, covered in ash, a little bruised, holding a snake in one hand and your glitter-covered robes in the other.

“…You are the weirdest thing that has ever happened to me,” He said.

You winked. “But I’m your weirdo.”

“Yeah, you are.”

-

Bonus Debriefing.

Group Chat:

Tony: Okay, so. Roll call. Who let them start a religion??

Clint: AGAIN?!?

Sam: Are we seriously ignoring the snake?? Why does she still have the snake?

You: his name is Gary, he chose me

Bucky: The snake did not choose you. You caught him and said “I am your mother now.”

You: and he accepted me

Wanda: Did you eat something weird again? The last time you said a goat “chose you” we had to evacuate a whole town.

Steve: Back up. How did we go from “infiltrate Hydra cult” to “being crowned a divine prophet of the hiss age”?

Bucky: Because she touched the sacred artifact. While they were giving a warning not to.

You: i wanted to boop it 🐍✨

Bruce: [Image attached: Security cam still of you dramatically booping a snake statue and passing out like a Victorian child seeing ankles.]

Tony: Okay but why are you glowing in this?

You: i think I absorbed a minor god

Sam: Define “minor.”

You: likeee a demi-snake. A snack god

Bucky: You said, quote: “Let the hiss of salvation whisper in your soul or something.”

Tony: You started preaching???

You: they gave me a podium! what else was I supposed to do? NOT use it!?

Natasha: …Yes?

Clint: wait, so did we ever find out if the cult was a Hydra front or…

Steve: Nope. She gave a sermon and declared Bucky her “divine enforcer.”

Bucky: Yeah. Still mad about that.

You: srry Prophet Punchy

Tony: We are never letting you go on recon again.

Bruce: I still want to know how you pulled off a glowing aura with no tech or magic.

You: I ate three glowsticks on accident.

Wanda: …

Steve: …

Bucky: This is not a joke. I watched it happen.

You: I thought they were minty tubes.

Sam: Was anyone else weirdly inspired by her speech though?

Steve: Sam.

Sam: I’m just saying I felt something 🐍

Bucky: I felt betrayal and secondhand shame.

You: don’t worry guys, the cult disbanded peacefully. i left them a doctrine :)

Tony: A what.

You: [Image attached: Crayon drawing of a snake with sunglasses saying “BE NICE. EAT SOUP. HISS IF THREATENED.”]

Bruce: This is shockingly coherent.

Clint: I hate how effective it is.

Thor: I would like to join this religion. It seems wise. HISS.

[Thor has been muted again.]

[manyimaginativemuses]

He Ate My Heart - Remmick/OC - Chapter 1

Summary: Maeve Fogarty, a young teacher out of the Mississippi Delta, never expected her kind heart to lead to such chaos in her life. When a handsome young man came to her door asking to use the phone, she said the three words that would change her life forever-

“Come on in.”

Remmick/Original Character 18+ Fic

Read on AO3!

Chapter warnings: Graphic smut, oral sex, unprotected sex, creampie, bloody sex, mild sadism on Remmick’s part, vampiric behavior (duh), aphrodisiac/venom based drool, could be considered dubcon but she is really into it despite that fuzzy drugged out feeling, idk what else to add so lemme know if I missed anything

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Maeve Fogarty had grown up with the mythology of her grandparents. Her family had come to America from Ireland, fleeing the famine that was slowly starving them out. They hoped America would be a fresh start, and while they did manage to make it in the new world, they were the lucky ones. But to help those that weren’t so lucky, they brought their stories. Tales of faeries and leprechauns and mad gods whom good Christian’s no longer spoke the name of.

But Maeve listened to the stories. Maeve knew not to leave her house after dark or whistle in the forests or say “thank you” to nature for a nice flower she found on the side of the road. She was a careful, intelligent young woman who did what she had to do to survive.

Unfortunately for her, when one of those stories came knocking on her door one night, he wore such a pretty face that all her common sense washed away along with her fear.

She had been at home reading, relaxing after a long day of teaching at the local school, when she heard a knocking on the door. She lived in a small cottage on the edge of her family’s land, barely anybody came out this far into the middle of nowhere, so she nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the knocking.

“What the hell?” Maeve whispered to herself, answering the door and getting even more confused by the sight in front of her. There stood a young handsome man with a banjo strapped to his back. He wore a kind smile and Maeve instantly felt herself at ease by his demeanor, leaning against the doorframe and watching him. She felt almost too relaxed, like a charm or spell had taken over her.

“Evenin ma’am, I’m so sorry to bother you at such a late hour, but my car broke down a bit down the road and I was hoping I could use your phone to call my friend.” The man started, a thick familiar southern accent reaching Maeve’s ears.

And somewhere in the back of her mind, she heard her grandfather’s voice reminding her not to let any strangers inside after dark. But overtaking that voice was another, more seductive one, purring at her to hear this man out… And as a single woman in the country whom no man even gave a second glance, when that second voice rumbled in her mind, she couldn’t help but listen.

“I’m sorry, who are you? Nobody ever drives out ‘round these parts this time of night.” Maeve asked, crossing her arms and watching the stranger

“Oh, I’m so sorry darlin, forgive my bad manners. My name’s Remmick, I perform with a traveling band and I was on my way home when my car broke down over yonder. I just need to use your phone and I’ll be outta your pretty hair, I promise.” The man gave a crooked smile and his eyes were practically sparkling like a pouting puppy dog. Maeve gave a raised eyebrow, looking him up and down once more before letting out a heavy sigh, making sure her shotgun was in sight before she backed up a bit.

“Cmon in, make it quick, my daddy’s asleep in the other room and I don’t want you waking him up.” She lied, still staying cautious as the handsome stranger entered her home.

“Thank ya kindly.” Remmick nodded, looking around as he walked inside, “You have a beautiful home. Smells like cinnamon in here, is that a candle or just your beautiful smell?” He smirked and Maeve blushed softly, keeping her arms crossed to keep her defenses high.

“Neither. The phone’s over there.” She pointed to the phone sitting on the counter, eyeing Remmick carefully as he continued to look around. He nodded once more, heading towards the phone but he slowed.

“It might take a while for my friend to come meet me. Do you mind if I stay with you just for a little bit until he gets here? It smells like it’s gonna rain out there, I’d hate to stand around and ruin not just my clothes but my banjo too.” He asked, turning slightly so Maeve could see his face when he spoke. The first thing she’d thought when she saw him was how hypnotic his eyes were. His eyes had this strange reddish sheen to them that she’d never seen before and somehow it drew her to him. In addition, his teeth were ever so slightly crooked, imperfect in such a way that Maeve found it charming. He was handsome, but not in a traditional sort of way. It reminded her of the old Irish country boys her father used to try and set her up with, but instead of being meek and whiny farm boys like them, Remmick had an air of dominance and rage to him. Like he was hiding something terrible just beneath the surface…

Like it would only take a single breath to snap the fragile thread that was holding his sanity together.

“Fine… just be quiet and don’t steal anything. And I have a shotgun I will use if need be.” Maeve snarled a warning and Remmick held up his hands in defense.

“Don’t worry ma’am, I won’t take nothin that ain’t freely given, I promise, especially not from a pretty thing like you.” Remmick winked at her before he reached the phone, dialing up his supposed friend.

The strangest thing was that when he spoke, he was speaking in Gaelic. Maeve knew it was Gaelic as her grandparents spoke it to each other. Unfortunately, they died before they were able to teach it to her, so she didn’t understand a lick of what he said.

“You’re Irish?” She asked as Remmick hung up the phone, causing him to whip around and look at her with wide eyes.

“Yeah…. How’d you know? You speak Gaelic?” He asked, an odd bit of worry to his tone but Maeve pushed it off as him not appreciating her listening to his conversation.

“No, I don’t speak it, but my grandparents did. They immigrated over here from Ireland before my parents were born. This is my family’s farmland, they gave me this house on the edge of the land since I don’t have a husband and they wanted to keep an eye on me.” She shrugged, “Why do you know it?”

“Same as you, family and friends are from Ireland.” He replied, a small smile on his face as he approached, “Ya know, I’d offer to play you a tune you might enjoy, but I don’t wanna wake your dad if he’s in the other room.” His eyes glanced towards the hallway and that’s when Maeve laughed and shook her head.

“No that’s… my daddy’s not actually here… I said that because I didn’t know if you were gonna kill me or rape me or something. But you seem genuine… it’s rare to find someone genuine out here.” Her blue-grey eyes softened then as she sat down on the couch, still watching him, “You can play me something… if you want….” Remmick’s smile widened as he pulled the banjo off his back, sat down in one of the chairs across from Maeve, and started playing.

“Tráthnóinín déanach i gcéin cois leasa dom.

Táimse i m’ chodhladh is ná dúisigh mé.

Sea dhearcas lem’ thaobh an spéirbhean mhaisiúil.

Táimse i m’ chodhladh is ná dúisigh mé.

Ba bhachallach péarlach dréimreach barrachas

A carnfholt craobhach ag titim léi ar bhaillechrith‘S í ag caitheamh na saighead trím thaobh do chealg mé.

Táimse i m’ chodhladh is ná dúisigh mé.

Is éirigí, a chlann, agus gabhaig bhur n-airm chugaibh,

Táimse im’ chodhladh is ná dúistear mé.

Is leagaigí sa tsrúil gach scrúille Sasanaigh,

Táimse im’ chodhladh is ná dúistear mé.

Mura mairfeadh ach triúir bíodh ciú ins gach bail’ agaibh

Ó Charraig na Siúire go ciumhais an Daingin thiar

Ardaigí bhur lain, tugaig fogha faoina Sasanaigh,

Táimse im’ chodhladh is ná dúistear mé.”

His voice had Maeve staring at him like she was in the presence of a god. Remmick sang like music was the only thing that mattered to him in this world. Even though she didn’t understand anything of what he said, she was enraptured by the way he told his song. And yet, despite all of that, it was almost like there was no soul to the song at the same time. It was as if his music had no heart to it despite him literally giving everything he had to it, and Maeve couldn’t understand why.

“That…. That was beautiful.” She whispered breathlessly, her eyes wide and enraptured by this man in front of her. She felt her heart skip a beat as a few dirty, fleeting thoughts crossed her mind and made her squirm in her seat, however those thoughts were dashed when she saw the wedding ring on his finger, “I-I bet your wife enjoys your singing too.” It was then that Remmick’s face turned sad and he shook his head.

“Nah… um…. My wife’s been long dead now. I only still wear this in honor of her, so I don’t lose her memory.” Remmick explained and held his hand up to show off the ring.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to reopen any old wounds!” Maeve apologized but Remmick moved closer to reassure her, sitting on the couch beside her.

“No no, it’s ok, nobody knows when they first meet me anyways. But you were right, she did enjoy my voice when she was alive… She looked at me the same way you’re looking at me right now.” Remmick’s voice deepened and Maeve shivered, licking her lips as she immediately noticed the way he started looking at her. His eyes had darkened and he was examining her as if she were a meal, his gaze flicking from one part of her body to another.

“I-I apologize sir if I crossed any kind of line.” She replied. Every nerve in her body was telling her to run, to stand up and get as far away from this man as possible. That voice earlier in her head that sounded like her grandfather was now violently screaming at her, desperately trying to warn her that this man was bad news. However, all of her senses were being completely drowned out by the sudden rush of arousal and desire that his song had brought out in her. Maeve always had a thing for musicians anyway, so when this one just so happened to be a handsome one who spoke Gaelic, her body responded naturally.

“You didn’t cross anything, darlin…. Atleast nothin I didn’t offer you freely.” He purred, his eyes meeting hers and Maeve swore in that moment they flashed red, like someone had shown a flashlight directly into his gaze and it flickered back like a dog caught in headlights.

“Your eyes… they’re beautiful…” She whispered and reached out, moving a strand of his hair out of his face so she could see his eyes more clearly, “It’s like you have moonlight in them or something.” Her words made Remmick chuckle and he shook his head, smiling even wider then.

“If you think they’re beautiful now, just wait ‘till I’m lookin up at you from between your thighs, worshipping you with your name on my lips…”

Maeve audibly gasped in response and felt Remmick leaning closer, her eyes flitting back and forth between his lips and his eyes. She knew this was a bad idea, fucking some random stranger who had god knows how many diseases or who maybe just wanted to fuck her so he could kidnap her and kill her when she was most vulnerable. But she couldn’t bring herself to tell him to leave. She hadn’t had a gentleman caller like this in years and the last one wasn’t even any good. She knew God would judge her when the time came, but at that moment, she couldn’t give less of a shit if God was watching because she wanted Remmick more than anything.

She jerked forward and grabbed Remmick by his suspenders, pulling him in close and kissing him roughly. The growl that tore from his throat nearly vibrated through Maeve’s whole body as she felt his hands fly to her waist to pull her even closer. He kissed back hard and passionately, his kiss full of teeth and tongue. There was also an odd amount of spit, almost like the man was drooling into the kiss. At one point when he stuck his tongue into her mouth and practically licked her teeth, she swore she felt it dripping with his saliva, but even that wasn’t enough to turn her off. The only thing that would ruin this was if Remmick tried to stop.

“Your skin tastes like sunlight in the summertime…” He whispered, pressing hot open mouthed kisses down her neck as he pushed her down onto the couch. And strangely, the more he kissed her, the more Maeve started to feel an odd buzzing sensation under her skin. It felt like she’d been hyperventilating, her vision slightly fuzzy around the edges and she could practically feel her heart pounding in her chest. Everything felt ten times more intense than normal, from the scratch of her dress on her back to the pleasurable throb between her legs. If she had been thinking clearly, Maeve would’ve thought Remmick had drugged her somehow. But the pulsing in her cunt was becoming too much for her to ignore the more Remmick made his claim on her mouth and throat.

“Wha-what was it you said earlier about being between my thighs?” She stammered with a smile, looking up at him and she could tell then that he was absolutely drooling. His mouth and chin were covered in his thick saliva which was currently dripping onto her chest. Normally she would’ve been disgusted, but the floaty buzzy feeling that overtook her made her ignore it completely.

“I said… ima worship you and make you scream my fuckin name, darlin.” Remmick snarled, his voice almost sounding doubled as he started kissing a hot, wet line down her chest to her belly until he found his destination between her legs. Maeve was panting like a dog in heat, lifting her ass to help Remmick dispose of her undergarments as he hopped off the couch onto the floor and pulled her with him for easy access. She yelped in surprise but giggled at his harsh treatment, staring down at him with wide eyes as he began kissing up the insides of her thighs, his large cool hands keeping them spread so he could see all of her.

“You’re already drippin for me, babydoll… did my song affect you that much?” He asked with a chuckle, dragging one callused finger through her soaked folds as a tease, causing Maeve to gasp again and push her hips closer.

“Y-you know damn well it did, s’like you hypnotized me or some shit…” She grumbled, lifting her leg to rest it on his shoulder, “And let’s hope you ain’t just all talk now cuz I don’t wanna tarnish your good name if you can’t perform to my standards.” She snapped back and Remmick nearly barked a laugh, his face almost cracking with the huge smile he wore.

“Ó a shoithín ghéar teanga, cuirfidh mé ort críochnú chomh crua agus go n-impeoidh tú orm casadh ort…” Remmick growled and Maeve cursed herself for not learning Gaelic before a sudden wave of pleasure slammed into her when Remmick’s face finally dipped down to where she wanted him the most. She gave a breathless sob and arched her back as his mouth started working wonders, her hands flying to his head and tangling in his short sweaty hair. He knew EXACTLY what he was doing and how to do it well, his tongue practically magical as he flicked her clit and sucked it in intervals that drove her up a wall.

“Remmick! Fuck, Remmick, more! Please!” Maeve called out his name and tried to pull him closer with her leg as she began rolling her hips against his face, causing him to laugh and moan into her pussy as he was getting just as desperate as she was. She felt two of his thick fingers suddenly enter her, clearly having been lubricated by his own saliva and her slick as they pushed in with barely any resistance. Maeve’s cries increased in pitch and frequency, her nails digging into Remmick’s scalp as his fingers curled and pushed directly against that spot inside her that only she herself could reach. His growls also picked up in frequency, the vibrations driving Maeve higher and higher.

“Rem-Remmick, m’gonna cum!” She warned and Remmick grabbed her thigh harder while his hand and mouth picked up speed. It was as if he knew exactly what her body wanted and how she wanted it because it didn’t take him too much longer before her orgasm slammed into her like a freight train. She arched her back against the couch, her nails almost ripping out chunks of Remmick’s hair as she fucked his face, his nose occasionally bumping her clit as he lapped up her cum like a dehydrated dog, nearly drinking it out of her as she spilled forth onto his hand and into his mouth. Maeve only stopped moving when the aftershocks became too much, finally releasing his hair with shaky hands and struggling to catch her breath as she’d just come harder than she ever had in her entire life. She’d never felt pleasure like that before, not with another man and certainly not by her own hand either. She looked down at him dizzily, only barely noticing how much drool soaked his mouth and not even caring to think about the fact that his teeth seemed sharper than before and his eyes were definitely flashing back in the light of her home.

Whatever he transferred to her during their kiss made her too high and horny to care about any of his monstrous features. All that Maeve wanted was him buried inside her so that she could cry out his name and beg for more.

“You’re so beautiful Maeve…” He whispered, moving his kisses back up her body. A small alarm went off in the back of her hazy head, reminding her that she hadn’t given him her name yet somehow he knew it, but once again that was drowned out by the pleasure she was receiving when he started sucking hickies onto her neck. The pleasure then increased ten fold when she felt him bite into her throat, causing her to arch her back and moan like a whore in response. She’d always been into a little pain with her pleasure, so feeling him bite HARD into the crook of her neck only increased that floaty, lightheaded feeling she’d been experiencing so far.

In fact, she was so delirious with pleasure that she didn’t even notice the blood staining his mouth when he pulled back from her throat to kiss her deeply..

Maeve sensed the mild metallic taste from the kiss but shrugged it off as her having bit his lip earlier from how hard she was kissing him. She whined loudly and pulled him closer, nearly dragging him onto the couch with her as she started pushing her hips up against him as he crawled overtop of her.

And the massive bulge that resided in his pants made her whimper his name even more desperately, desire and lust clogging her veins with every kiss.

“Shhh… relax for me darlin’… I have all night to make you feel good, ain’t no need to rush now.” Remmick’s voice met her ears and made her shiver in his arms as he unbuttoned his shirt and exposed his chest and undershirt to her. Maeve leaned forward and started kissing as much exposed flesh as she could get her mouth on, wanting to mark Remmick’s cold pale skin with her teeth. Remmick moaned with each nip, pushing his groin even harder into hers as his desperation only grew as well. And when Maeve started sucking a hickey onto his throat under his jawline, that was when Remmick couldn’t take it anymore. He quite literally ripped open her dress, buttons and fabric flying off of her as Maeve only vaguely noticed Remmick’s claws, but once again her hazy mind couldn’t care less. His growls deepened and his eyes reddened as he stared down at her, his large clawed hands dragging over her chest, marking her breasts and making Maeve arch up into him in response.

“Please… Remmick please, I need you…. Need you inside me…” Maeve begged and Remmick gave a massive fanged smile, kissing her once more as he undid his belt and trousers, pulling them off completely along with his boots and tossing them across the room. He cupped her face in his hands, her dark hair tangling in his claws as his reddened gaze flickered over her form.

“Don’t worry babydoll, I’ve got you…” Remmick kissed her again, his cock pressed against her soaking wet cunt and already dripping precum against her. Maeve happily moaned and kissed back, wrapping a leg around his waist as she tried to push him inside her, but he was determined to keep this on his terms. The more she whined and fought him, the more he kissed her stupid and made her wait. It was only once she looked at him with her big shiny puppy dog eyes that he finally gave in, his heart aching as he wanted her to look at him like that for all eternity.

With a hiss through his fanged teeth, Remmick slowly pushed his cock inside Maeve’s tight waiting body, the woman beneath him gasping and clenching her fists into the couch cushions as he did so. His growls got louder and louder as he kept pushing deeper, her cries only making him want her more as he held onto the tiny shred of self control he had so he didn’t slam into her without letting her adjust.

“Yes… yes!” Maeve sobbed breathlessly and rolled her hips, trying to get Remmick to move, “Remmick…” The SECOND the said his name, that thread of self control snapped and he went FERAL. He grabbed her hips tight, his claws digging into her skin as he started pounding into her relentlessly, his thick cock driving Maeve even further into her high. She could feel his drool dripping onto her chest and belly, his hand moving occasionally to massage it into her skin.

“Mine…. MINE….” He snarled viciously, more and more drool staining Maeve’s skin the harder he fucked her. Her couch began to slam against the wall from the force of his thrusts but Maeve didn’t care as she was overwhelmed by his dick and the pleasure he was bringing her, “Cmon babydoll, I can feel you clenchin ‘round me already… your pussy was made for me, it fuckin owns me, wanna feel you cum around me so fuckin badly, darlin… Fucking hell I need it…” Remmick’s voice did that odd doubling thing as it had done earlier, his words tinged with so much desire it almost bled into rage as his hand moved to start tweaking her clit. The moment he started rubbing her clit in circles, just the way she liked it, Maeve exploded around his cock, her body milking him for everything he was worth.

“FUCK REMMICK!! REMMICK REMMICK REMMICK!” Maeve screamed his name, continuing to fuck her hips up to meet his as he worked her through her orgasm, staying deep inside her as she let it wash over her. Only once she had calmed down a bit did he continue with his movements, his thrusts now slower but just as deep as he reveled in the warmth and beauty of her body

“C-cum… cum inside me…” She begged, looking up at at him as she grabbed at his arms, “Want you to cum inside me…” Maeve’s words were shaky and full of need and Remmick gave her a warm loving smile in response.

“You sure darlin?” He asked with a purr, his thumb stroking her cheek as she nodded.

“Y-yeah… wanna… wanna leak you…” She replied. Even in her delirious state, Maeve knew him cumming inside her wasn’t too dangerous. She’d had some medical problems as a teenager that led doctors to tell her she was infertile, so even if Remmick came inside her, Maeve wasn’t worried. Remmick just smirked darkly in response, increasing the power behind his thrusts as his claws dug into her hips again. He threw his head back and gritted his teeth as he surrendered himself to the pleasure, all while making certain she was enjoying it just as much.

“You wanna be leaking me huh? You want me to cum so deep inside you that you can’t forget me for DAYS cuz of how much you’re leaking me?” He muttered, his pace picking up as he leaned over and pressed his forehead to Maeve’s, his fingers on her clit picking up in speed as well, determined to make her cum around him as many times as possible, “Your pretty little cunt belongs to me… ima ruin you for any other man, ya hear me?” His words made Maeve sob, her hips rolling up hard and fast to meet his movements. Her second orgasm ended up hitting her suddenly, her moans so loud that she even surprised herself. Remmick only laughed and snarled in response, feeling her body massaging his cock as his own end began to creep up on him.

“Mine…. Mine… MINE!” Remmick leaned down and started nuzzling into her neck once more and once again, that delicious pain bloomed in her throat. Maeve was on cloud nine, floating above everything as the high of her orgasms and whatever was in her system made her wrap her arms around Remmick possessively.

“Need it, need it, need you, give it to me Remmick, please please please PLEASE!” Maeve begged and threw her head back as she felt him slam full force into her once, twice, and on the third thrust, his growl was so loud she felt the vibrations in her chest. She gasped with a smile as she felt him cum deep inside her, his cock twitching and pulsing as he exploded against the entrance of her womb. Her nails dug into his back, clawing at his skin as she let him ride out his pleasure inside her, his cum stuffing her so full that she felt even dizzier now that it was over. Remmick licked and kissed at the spot he’d left on her neck, his body nearly collapsing on top of her as Maeve panted underneath him. For a fleeting moment, she thought she couldn’t feel him breathing, but that thought vanished as soon as he kissed her again. That same metallic taste from earlier was back and it only made everything better.

“Y-you…. Wow…. Where have you been all my life?” Maeve whispered playfully, lovingly petting his arms as she stared up at him with hazy eyes.

“Here and there and everywhere darlin.” Remmick chuckled in reply, hissing softly as he pushed back into her and made her whine, “And if you think this is all over for the night, you are sorely mistaken babydoll.”

For the rest of the night, Maeve was completely blissed out on Remmick. Something in his eyes, in his scent, in his blood, in his spit, something she couldn’t even place drew her to him and she didn’t want to let go. She let him claim her over and over, marking her with his mouth, his teeth, his cum. She was his and his alone for that night, for hours on end they brought each other to the peak of ecstasy until Maeve’s body couldn’t take it and passed out. The last thing she remembered before she fell unconscious was the sky beginning to lighten outside Remmick’s delicious voice purring in her ear.

“Thank you for the evening, babydoll. I can promise, I’ll never forget your kindness. And don’t worry, no one will ever bother you or your family on this land ever again.” He had whispered to her before he fled her home, rushing back into the darkness from whence he came.

[chippa44444]

TFA yandere!Jazz x Cybertronian!Reader Mini fiction

"You Were Meant to Be Mine."

Warnings: yandere

TFA Yandere Jazz isolates his subordinates, the readers, and makes them depend on him.

Character: Jazz (Transformers Animated) Reader: Gender Neutral POV: First-person Jazz

This is an English translation of what was posted on Blue Sky.　Original Link

English is not my main language so I'm sorry if there are any grammar or translation mistakes.

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Lately, things have finally grown quiet around you. No one meets your gaze. No one dares to approach you anymore.

—Naturally. There could never be anyone else truly worthy of you.

As your direct superior, I’ve watched you slowly become isolated. And seeing the confusion in your optics, unaware of what’s really happening... It makes my spark thrum with anticipation.

After all, you'd never guess that the reason behind your growing solitude is the result of my own... subtle efforts.

But each time your bright blue optics dim, I know. Only I understand you—your loyalty, your sense of duty. Only I can protect you. You need me. —The AllSpark must have destined it this way. You and I were always meant to become this.

That’s why I approach you. "I'm here for you," I say. And the faint glimmer that returns to your beautiful optics in response… It’s unbearably precious.

When you begin to spill your fears, I’m there to catch every word. To comfort, encourage, and reassure you. And as you begin to lean on me—little by little— I feel whole.

To you, I am no longer just a commander. I become something far more irreplaceable.

Then one day, I say it aloud: “...Will you allow me to stay by your side? No matter what happens?”

You pause—surprised, unsure—then you smile gently and whisper, "...Yes."

Ah... this is right. You’re mine now. Finally.

As you reach out your hand to me, I take it gently—yet firmly enough that you can’t slip away. Even if that hand trembles... I have no intention of ever letting go.

We'll be together from now on. No matter what anyone says. No matter what happens. —Even if, someday, you stop wanting it.

[chaifootsteps]

Hi, I'm the anon who rewrote the Stella and Andrephelus conversation from western energy a while ago ( here https://www.tumblr.com/chaifootsteps/756199473054711808/bit-of-a-quick-rewrite-of-stella-and-andrealphus?source=share ) and I just wanted to send an Alternate Ending I wrote for "Seeing Stars" because the actual ending pissed me off

Stella had been expecting many things when her daughter called her that evening. Talking about how her day with Stolas went, or if they had gone to get her more taxidermy pieces, or something positive. What she wasn’t expecting was her daughter’s voice meekly saying:

“I… I’m sorry. But can… can you please send a driver to pick me up from dad’s? Please…”

No sooner than the words were out of her mouth, the swan jumped into action, ordering her servants to get a car to pick up her daughter, and to make sure she arrived safely. If Octavia was even more upset or there was even the smallest feather out of place when she arrived, heads would roll, quite possibly literally given Stella’s temper. The owlet soon arrived, shaking with emotion and barely concealed tears running down her face.

“What happened, my little star?”

Stella led Octavia inside, instructing the servants to bring her something to eat and drink. It took some time for her daughter to calm down. Stella wasn’t prepared for what her daughter asked her.

“Why… Why does dad love that red dickhead more than he loves me?”

Octavia sounded so broken, like she had been disappointed one too many times. Octavia relayed her day to her mother, Stella growing more and more angry at Stolas for what he did. It was bad enough his affair had gone on for so long, that their daughter knew the Grimoire, her birthright, wouldn’t be at home with her father, but instead given away to the imp he was using.

But then the fact Octavia didn’t know any spells because of her father, and combined with that pathetic man forgetting the day their owlet had been dreaming of since she was a child? Stella nearly called Striker then and there to blow his brains out, but she needed to stay calm, she needed to listen to Andrephelus’ plan for now, lest Octavia end up in an even worse position.

“A-And his Hellhound or daughter I guess said I needed to give dad a break because he was trying, and then she turned around and kicked her own dad? Is it a joke to her? Did she tell me that just to shut me up? So I’d go back to dad? Why did he even need them to come find me?”

Why indeed. Stolas could’ve found Octavia easily since she had the Grimoire all day, he can find it no matter what. For fuck’s sake, he could’ve just called her, even if she didn’t pick up or hung up on him, it would’ve showed he was trying. But, no, Stolas has his head too far up his own rear end, caring more about his little plaything than their daughter.

Octavia was still a child, she still just wanted her father, and Stolas continuously failed her, not only in her lessons, but spending time with her. 

“Did she only do it because dad paid them to find me?”

Now, Octavia could’ve been assuming there, but Stella wouldn’t put it past Stolas. He used his power, money, and status to keep that imp and his company under his thumb. There was a big chance that Stolas had once again paid them to care, like when they had gone to ‘Loo Loo Land’. Originally, Stella blamed that lowly imp as much as her husband, before overhearing one of Stolas’ conversations with the imp.

There was no genuine love there, just Stolas fulfilling some fantasy, in their fucking bed, in their home, around their daughter. And that would just continue, as Octavia had to give the book back to the imp, her father obviously caring more about his power over said imp than the fact their daughter needed to learn her birthright. 

Octavia was seventeen already, and didn’t know any spells. She only knew basic magic, not anything that would help her with being the heir. She would need hours of remedial classes, if they could even get all of it done by her eighteenth birthday, if they even had that much time. Should Andrephelus’ plan work, Stolas would be stripped of title and status by the end of the year.

Not that Stolas cared if Octavia knew the spells or not, his selfishness knew no bounds. He’d rather have spent the either day screaming and fighting with Stella than take one Satan-damned minute to check a calendar. He could’ve told Stella ‘I can’t do this today, it’s a special day for Via.’, but no, that didn’t fit into Stolas’ fantasy. Though of course, you could bet he always had the full moon’s dates memorized, because his own needs were more important.

“Don’t worry, my beautiful, wonderful star.” Stella said softly, wiping Octavia’s tears. “I’ll take care of it.”

That was beautiful, Anon. Thank you so much for writing these.

[kiyomitakada]

hi everyone i have just dug up my pitch for death note musical 2: musical boogaloo from the depths of My Drafts. would you like to hear about it. of course you do here it is

kiyomi is the one who gets the death note

in this adaptation i’m making her kill only politicians. why? because fuck you that’s why (and death note musical changed so many of the characters that i think i am justified in this)

mikami, who idolized the former kira, is really mad that there is now a Pretender To The Throne. he has decided to seek this person out no matter what and somehow acquire the power for himself instead, because he will use it Properly

he expresses this opinion to his good friend kiyomi takada over their weekly dinner meeting. kiyomi is normal about it.

near and mello are doing exactly what they were doing in the manga. near did reconstruct L’s whole case even though kira went inactive because he wants to know who killed L. mello is in the mafia still

(there is no watari-equivalent in the original musical so im going to say watari doesn’t exist but roger & the orphan making factory do)

(that could be a great willy wonka variant. Roger Ruvie & The Orphan Making Factory.)

soichiro retired from the police amidst the fallout from the kira investigation. he has not been doing good. sachiko made him enroll in therapy.

sayu, on the other hand, is still desperate to believe that her brother wasn’t kira — that L was kira and went to kill light but not before light shot and killed him in self defense…?

(this is in fact the more reasonable explanation. two people dead, one of gunshot wounds, the other of a heart attack; obviously the one without a heart attack was kira. obviously!)

(for some reason her dad doesn't buy this.)

so anyway she’s a cop now

(we’re allowing a longer timeskip let’s say 10 years)

pause in mourning for sayu becoming a cop

the task force immediately forms again once the new kira appears, since they all really want closure. sayu manages to force her way in as well despite her parents’ fervent pleas for her to Not Do That. the task force mostly treats her as a grieving young girl which drives her insane

the new kira is pressuring the government to support their new reign, like what happened in yotsuba arc, so the task force is unofficial and a secret

a month after the new kira shows up, beloved idol misa amane vanishes

because mello kidnapped her. that’s why. mihael “mello” “serial kidnapper” keehl knew from the records that L tortured her and decided she must be relevant.

musical misa unfortunately is a moeblob so she was genuinely just trying to get on with her life even though she dreams about scattering dust every night

mello figures out from this that light yagami was the primary suspect from the original investigation but realizes pretty quickly she genuinely doesn’t know anything else

this does allow him to zero in on sayu yagami however because the task force’s member list is not obtainable information but the npa personnel list sure is

mello offers to let misa go, obviously under threat to her life if she ever reveals what happened etc., but she decides that actually she wants to know what’s going on as well. her life as an idol is miserable anyway.

…………..that’s all i got for plot im sorry if i start a kickstarter scam will you pay me for more ideas

re: the musical aspect:

sayu and misa both sing solos that very obviously leave space where light is supposed to sing, because i liked that the original musical made them parallels

mikami’s songs are all solos. gospel music backing like with misa’s songs.

near and mello duet constantly but the spotlight is always only on one of them until the finale where near is explaining mello’s plan (sorry yeah mello dies in this i don’t know how but he does) (he’s very killable can you blame me. he inherited it from lawliet), at which point near finally sings simultaneously with an apparition of mello until they reach “together we can surpass—” and near finishes “L.” alone

miscellaneous:

midora’s the one who dropped the death note. in this universe kiyomi got it rather than c-kira

midora has never done something like this before and she heard from ryuk that rem died by getting too close to her human so after a very brief explanation of the rules midora just flies back to the shinigami realm and watches from there. this drives kiyomi up a wall

i really, really want mikami to kill god (ryuk). i think he deserves it. it would be healthy for him.

(no not by making ryuk fall in love. he sets that bastard on fire or something)

the theme of this musical is Succession. kiyomi is facing immense internal pressure to do what the original kira did but she can’t stand having as much blood on her hands. mikami & his god, sayu & light, near/mello & L, so on and so forth

misa is not in the above list because (as in the original musical) she is the exception to the rule

the finale takes place when kiyomi’s hosting the red and white song battle show. for maximum coolness.

misa doing spy things during the rehearsal for kiyomi’s show… breaking into her room… setting cameras…

i don’t know how the politics of this musical are going to turn out to be. in my head kiyomi is extremely politically minded but she’s also a milquetoast liberal. centrist accelerationism and all that. ideally she would get enough power over the current right-wing government that she can enact policies herself and then start slipping back into the exact same right-wing shit. but i have read exactly 0 theory so i don’t know how i would pull this off

reading marx so i can write death note musical 2 musical boogaloo

anyway the first musical kind of didn’t go into any of that (much less than the manga does as far as i remember) so at least there’s no precedent

oh also and this is important. musical!sayu is the kind of vengeful that makes her perfect for being a cop (derogatory). she’s kind of like matsuda. she’s doing this For Light (the way matsuda shot light For Soichiro) not because she actually has any meaningful objection against kira the entity. i’m sure this will be fine.

i feel like i haven’t talked enough about near… i don’t know how much he could glean from the case. there’s no watari around to press the self destruct button but maybe L just didn’t keep notes in the first place.

i think it consumes him though. it’s illogical because the kira case is over and if you can’t win the game you’re nothing but a loser, but also he can’t tell if L won or not and that drives him mad although he’s very outwardly calm about it.

it just occurred to me that if you somehow only know death note through the musical it’d be kind of insane to show up to the sequel musical just to hear “oh yeah by the way there was an unethical orphanage to replace the detective guy from the first musical, obviously, we all know about the unethical orphanage”

[clinicalcuntetiquette]

oh wow I don’t take myself seriously sometimes but oh my god I did not think you were gonna respond so thoroughly! I do appreciate everything you wrote here, you are honestly doing god’s work for people like me so thank you!

(my mind is scattered when it comes to the end product of vld and the weird history of the fandom makes me a little defensive)

I’m still gonna hold on to one original opinion though, bc I don’t think that because she shares mature characteristics with the mature characters it necessarily makes her older or at least as close in age to them.

but although I agree that her personality regression is so obvious that I do acknowledge it right now thanks to you, I remember you explained something about introducing her self doubt and insecurities in s3 to make her on the same level as the others (I’m sorry if this is wrong I don’t remember what you exactly wrote), to me, she was never on their level lmao

I can’t reboot my brain to think otherwise for some reason and that’s totally on me and my history with her character (i made so many twitter burner accounts bc I felt that I had to fight tooth and nail for her back then) I still need to sit with it if I ever want to change my view on her.

but again! thank you op and I love your work so much I literally wait for you to post so I can set the mood and read and try to make sense of this show! much much much love to you!

ALLURA’S REGRESSION IN MATURITY

I remember a rumor after season 3 came out that Allura was originally written to be Shiro’s age in the first two seasons, but her age was lowered to match the other paladins in season 3 so that she fit in more as a paladin. Well, I found some evidence of this:

Shiro and Allura as equals

Firstly, Allura is seen in season 1-2 mostly sparring intellectually and emotionally with Shiro rather than the other (younger) paladins:

[Season 1, Episode 5: Eye of the Storm, 09:09]

Here we have Allura “sparring” emotionally with Shiro, again, and also a quite sweet moment where he takes her hand. We saw everyone surrounding her when she collapsed by the controls earlier this episode, but here, she is alone with Shiro, and discussing her worries with him only. He also discusses his worries with her. 

[Season 1, Episode 10: Collection and Extraction, 04:15]

Her insistence here is reasonable. She used her previous knowledge of Galra supply lines as a reason, whereas in Season 3, she didn’t have much of a reason at all, only a desire to see if there were any Alteans there.

Shiro agrees to have her on the mission, because he sees her reason and can’t argue against it. I don’t think he even really wants to, recognising that her knowledge is invaluable to their mission. The only reason he looks at Coran while shrugging is because Coran looked to him for help to let her stay back, due to his overprotectiveness. Shiro enables her and respects her as a member of the team, just like the others, and he sees her as an equal.

Read More

[paperaddictionss]

Bakugou Katsuki~

You die in battle (sad version)

unedited- sorry if there’s any mistakes!

You see the end of the fight on its way out, you finally did it you finally beat them. Your body was exhausted and you couldn’t wait to get home and lay on your boyfriend’s chest, you saw a glimpse of Bakugou’s blonde hair smiling to yourself. When you turned back around though it wasn’t the nearly defeated Villain you were against before, it was quite the opposite. A new, fresh, strong Villain, your eyes widened in shock- how?

You jumped backwards avoiding their attack, you know you didn’t have much fight left in you but you couldn’t give up now. This Villain was stronger than the last one you faced and you wasn’t sure if you could hold your own, despite this you stood your ground.

You sent a large scale attack towards the Villain hoping it would do something, it grazed it slightly but nothing too damaging, you felt your body weaken by the second. Had to keep going. You continued fighting, your attacks getting slower, your reactions not as quick as they were before, he had caught you a few times a few new marks appearing on your face.

You managed to sneak an opening sending the last bit of your magic towards the Villain, using every last drop of your quirk that you had left- to your luck once the dust cleared the Villain was on the ground you moved towards it. Time to restrain it until the others got here. You heard Bakugou had just finished his fight defeating his opponent. You smiled to yourself knowing you were soon to be in his arms.

You bent down and looked down to the Villain seeing him smirk, furrowing your brows but before you got chance to react, to fight you felt a blow to your stomach, gasping and choking, the pain shooting through every inch of your body, you stood up stumbling backwards clutching onto your stomach, turning your head you saw the original Villain you was fighting- but how?

Bakugou’s eyes widened in fear, “Y/N!!” He yelled out wasting no time to run over to her, despite his own battle wounds that ached at his body, he saw what that Villain did to her and his blood ran cold, his fists clenched. He reached her in no time pulling her away from the Villains.

She hid her stomach not wanting him to worry too much, “go fight them, save the city,” she told him smiling but the pain in her body was unbearable, he shook his head placing his hands on her shoulders.

“And leave you, are you crazy?” He scoffed his face riddled in worry and panic, he turned around again to see the Villains gone, “besides they left now there’s not much we can do. Are you okay though? Did he get you bad?” He questioned his voice slightly higher pitched, his eyes searching her face.

Y/N huffed, wincing slightly, “I- I just need to sit down and catch my breath,” she replied breathing becoming a bit harder for her, he nodded his head still not seeing the extent of her injuries. He grabbed her arm helping her sit down, her back against the rubble, he looked down to her hand placed on her stomach seeing how drenched in blood it was.

“Y/N…? Your bleeding really bad,” his voice cracked as he kneeled beside her, looking to her face which was now slightly damp with sweat, “let me see it.”

“I’m fine just out of breath,” she denied shaking her head, but he wasn’t having it, he gave her a stern look making her sigh, she just didn’t want him to see her like this. She didn’t want to break his heart. She didn’t want to hurt him with the truth.

He continued to give her a stern look until slowly she removed her hand revealing the hole in her stomach, his stomach flipped and he felt sick full of worry and pain, this was really bad. “You need help, come on let’s get you up we can get you to a recovery nurse, I’m sure there’s one nearby,” he ushered his words coming out in a fleeting panic.

She looked to him her eyes saddening, her brows tugging towards each other, “Katsuki…” she trailed off, he looked down to her his eyes searching hers.

“No…no! Come on get up,” he urged, she needed to get up, she needed help so why wasn’t she listening? “Y/N, please,” he begged shaking his head at her, he couldn’t. He wouldn’t accept that.

She winced, her skin tingling as the colour slowly washed from her as more blood oozed from her deep gash, “we won’t make it that far Katsuki,” she whispered, as soon as the words left her lips his body froze up, he felt enraged by this, but underneath the rage was a deep running tap of sadness.

“You’re being silly! We can make it, stop being lazy!” He yelled out, the lump in his throat forming making it harder for him to speak, he shook his head in denial. She wasn’t mad or upset by his words, she lifted her arm weakily grabbing ahold of his hand letting out a small sigh of relief at his warm touch.

He looked down to her immediately dropping closer to her, “why, baby please get up,” he whispered the tears pricking his eyes as his anger washed away in a flood of sadness, he brought her hand up to his lips kissing it softly.

She smiled at his sweet gesture, her heart breaking at the sight of him, she didn’t want the last moments to be like this, but she knew he couldn’t help it after all they were each others everything’s. She held onto his hand tighter, she was scared, petrified even not just by the fact she knew she was going to die, but because she was gonna have to live without him. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her and now she had to say goodbye.

He looked down to her bleeding slowly slowing down, his heart beating faster as the tears stung his eyes threatening to spill over the edge. This couldn’t be the end of their story, he begged whatever gods were above that this was just some horrible nightmare and he’d wake up from it any second now. He had to. But when he squeezed his eyes shut and reopened them to see her small weak smile his heart sank even further in his chest.

Despite she was dying, she always kept that same warming, gentle smile on her face, the same precious sparkle in her eyes. The eyes he fell in love with, the eyes he wanted his future children to have. Anger sparked his body again, those Villains. What if he finished defeating his opponent quicker, then she wouldn’t have been hurt. Guilt ran through his veins and the tighter squeeze on his hand made him look up at his beautiful girl.

“Don’t blame yourself, I know that look Katsuki, it’s not your fault. I promise, please don’t ever blame yourself for this,” she shifted wincing at the pain, “p-promise me?” He looked to her, his tears blurring his vision, he was holding them back but the intensity of his emotions, the severity of the situation meant it was getting harder for him to do so.

“I promise,” he croaked out, while he promised her that he knew in the future he still would, but he just wanted her to be at peace with the idea that he wouldn’t. He wanted her to be happy in this moment. He didn’t want her to die sad, or angry.

His heart felt like someone was clawing at it from the inside out, his chin wobbled slightly, he lifted her slightly moving to sit behind her, wrapping his arms around her. Finally she was in his arms, she knew that she’d be in them soon..she just didn’t know it’d be like this. She held onto his arms tighter not wanting to let go. Her breathing became more shallow.

“I love you Katsuki,” she whimpered, the pain tingling all through her body, he bit onto his bottom lip, letting the tears slip down his cheeks now.

“I love you too Y/N, so much,” he choked back his sobs holding her into his chest, feeling the warmth in her body slowly fade, his heart feeling incredibly heavy, his head pounding.

“I-i promise..to find you-“ she paused her words becoming harder to say as she fought against the inevitable, “to find you in every lifetime Katsuki,” she got her words out swallowing the lump in her throat. Tears flowing freely down her face.

“i’ll be looking and waiting,” he replied leaning his face into her shoulder, he couldn’t believe it, they hadn’t been given enough time together- why her?

Y/N felt her body slowly fading, she could no longer feel the pain that once pulsated through her body, her mind was quiet- she felt peaceful. She accepted her fate, being okay with it because she knew that they would find each other again- she knew that this wasn’t the end of their story yet.

“T-talk to me Katsuki,” she whispered her voice shaky and small, he nodded his head quickly, swiping the stray tears on his face away.

“Do you remember the first time we went on the date at the fair, and you were making me go on all the high rides,” he chuckled fondly of the memory, “and we got popcorn and shared a stick of cotton candy and you ended up with some in your hair,” he grinned the tears refilling his eyes.

She let out a small weak laugh, “th-that was not funny..it got stuck,” she reminisced thinking back to that date, oh if she could relive it.

“The first time you told me you loved me, best night of my life, because i finally got to tell you just how much i loved you, how much you really meant to me. i was never one for emotions but you showed me them, you showed me how to feel love, and happiness. How to express it. No one’s ever made me feel that way before Y/N,” Bakugou expressed, her grip loosened and he panicked, did she go already, before he got to tell her.

He leaned forward, moving her face to look at him she looked back at him smiling weakly, not having the energy to talk, he saw her puffy eyes and her tear-stained cheeks, “it’s okay, i’ve got you. i’m not going anywhere,” he soothed rubbing her hand with his thumb.

He placed a small gentle kiss on her forehead, then one on either side of her cheeks, then finally one on her lips, she mustered up all her strength to kiss him back, to feel that same warmth in her stomach like she always felt whenever they kissed.

“I love you so much,” he told her, leaning his forehead against hers.

A singular tear dropped from her eye, she inhaled his scent one last time, felt his warmth one last time, her time on the edge, but she couldn’t part ways with him until she said one more thing, “i..i…love…you…too…Katsuki,” she whispered but loud enough for him to hear, her breathing staggered and eventually flatlined.

Her body fell limp against his, her hand still intertwined with his own, he shook his head the tears unwillingly not stopping in his eyes, he just lost his everything. His whole world, his heart, his soul. It was gone.

His heart shattered in his chest, the pain echoing throughout his entire being. He finally let go of the emotions he had been holding back, letting out cries of pain, of despair, of grief, of guilt.

“Please come back to me,” he wailed shaking her body slightly, “i can’t do this without you, how am i supposed to live? How am i supposed to breathe without you. Please say this is some nightmare or some- some cruel prank…i’ll forgive you if it is but please come back to me,” he begged as the hot tears raced down his cheeks, dripping onto their intertwined hands.

His body shook with every cruel emotion that she had taught him, sadness, fear. She was the light of his life, the spark of his heart, the key to his soul and now he was supposed to just live without her. He couldn’t accept that. He couldn’t accept her death so easily. He let out a scream, before his body completely broke. He felt empty, he felt like a piece of his heart, of his soul had genuinely been sucked from him.

He sat there holding her for hours on end, until all the other heroes showed up, he let them say their goodbyes watching as each one’s heart broke- you were special to everybody. He couldn’t bring himself to let you go, to say goodbye.

He found himself having to be dragged away by Midoriya, and even then he had broken down into his arms. He wanted you back. He needed you back.

[starrihan]

Highkey need a continuation of Fuma and Nicholas' reactions to reader accidentally touching their dicks 👀

-> Genre: smut, oral in Fuma’s (m receiving), mutual mastrubation in Nico’s

-> Warnings: none!

-> Word Count: 2,164 (~1000 words each)

-> Notes: You know nonnie, I already had some ideas cooking but I’m glad to know someone wants to see more for their parts 🤭 you can find part 1 to this ask here!

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

༄ ༄ ༄

Fuma:

You were staying true to your word– you were going to stay at his apartment after dropping him off. You originally planned to go home after dropping him off, figuring that he would be too drunk to do anything afterwards. But to your surprise, he stayed composed and even stopped drinking after the little incident in the bathroom.

"Can I drink when we get back to your place? I've been deprived all night just for you..."

You asked him during the car ride home. There was no one on the road, allowing you to push past the speed limit in order to get there faster.

"Yeah, if we're even alive by then, slow down there's no rush."

But you were in a rush. You needed that alcohol in your system if you were going to do what was implied in the bathroom. You checked your speed, heeding his warning and slowing down to ease his nerves. He could tell that you were sweating, cranking up the AC in the car, but it didn't help you at all.

Upon arriving at his apartment, you parked the car, letting out a shaky breath as the feeling between your thighs was still searing hot, clamping them together. He noticed your discomfort, not saying anything and just stepping out of the car. You followed him out, trialing behind him. You've been at his apartment before, but you felt more nervous now. He opens the door, walking in first and closing the door behind you.

"Nothing has to happen tonight. Even though I meant what I said, I was drunk and horny. I only want to do what you want to do. I don't want you to have to drink alcohol to be with me. you don't even have to stay if you don't want to."

He didn't sound bitter or upset, only concerned if he made you feel uncomfortable. You felt bad. You did truly want this, but you were just nervous. You turned to face him, expression soft. Your heart dropped into your stomach at the thought that you made his question himself.

“I’m sorry Fuma. It’s not that. You just… you make me nervous. It’s not that I don’t want it to happen… I was just very surprised I thought it was just you saying things when you were drunk.”

He just smirked, locking the door before walking up to you. You gulped as his gaze bore holes into your soul, like he could read straight through you.

“You know, you say you’re nervous but you haven’t stopping rubbing your thighs together all night. Seems like you’re pretty comfortable if you’re trying to get yourself off in front of me.”

His hands are planted firmly at your hips, fingers digging into exposed skin from your dress. You eyes follow his as he looks you up down, like he’s just about ready to devour you whole, watching as his eyes flick down from your eyes to your lips, to your chest and back up to your lips.

He was right, you’ve been trying to get yourself off for so long now you couldn’t wait any longer. You bring you hand behind his head, pulling him down for a kiss before he could tease you anymore. His lips are still plush despite the alcohol he's drank, molding with yours perfectly as your fingers tangle in his hair.

"You're sure about this, right?"

He asks, pulling away from the kiss to bring them down your jaw and neck. A little moan escapes your lips, as you breathe out a small 'yes,' to his question. You bring him back to your lips, taking control this time as your hands move down his front, unbuttoning his jeans and reaching in the palm his dick through his boxers. He was already hard, making you smirk into the kiss.

"Fuck, Y/N..."

He groans into your mouth. Your other hand pulls his pants down, still palming him as you get down on your knees, the images of you on your knees in the bathroom floor playing back in his mind. You watch as he continues to harden at your touch, finally pulling his boxers down and letting his cock free. His hands are in your hair now, gently moving some strays out of your face as he looks at you in anticipation, breath caught in his throat.

You kiss the tip, watching as a little color from your lip stain mixed with your gloss transfers over, the clear mark of your lips visible. You look up at him through your lashes, and he almost swears at how beautiful you look right now. You smile sweetly, like you aren't on your knees for him, before letting your tongue drag along the tip.

"Happy birthday, Fuma."

You say before wrapping your lips just on his tip, kitten licking his slit which has him gripping your hair a little tighter. You work your way down his length, making sure to lick and suck around every vein, teasing him like how he had you teasing yourself all night. But you kept it light, trying your best to fit as much as you could into your mouth.

The involuntary jerks of his hips has his length reaching the back of your throat. He tries to pull out a little, but you grip his hips tight, shaking your head 'no' as you keep him there. You were determined to have him cum down your throat, hollowing out your cheeks and bobbing your head enough to have him constantly hit the back of your throat. He was thick, making it hard for you not to gag but you suppressed it well enough. You could feel the way his dick would spasm slightly, knowing he was close.

He knew you knew it too, letting himself fully relax into your touch as he tries to hold off cumming so quick. Tears brim your eyes, stinging as your throat burns. With one last jerk of his hips and a brush of your tongue near his base, he doesn't hold back, coating your tongue and throat with thick ropes of his cum. He slowly pulls out and your jaw goes slack, some of his cum spilling past your lips and down your chest.

"Are you alright? I didn't hurt you too bad, did I?"

He's kneeling with you, holding your mouth close as you try hard to swallow while your throat is dry. You look down, taking your finger and picking up any liquids that escaped your mouth before shoving them past your lips, releasing them with a 'pop' and a bright smile.

"It felt great."

He helped you up, kissing you as he snaked his hand around your waist and grabbing your ass, squeezing it tight. He hikes your dress up, fingers gently running over the fabric of your underwear before stopping at the almost seeping wet spot.

"It was a happy birthday indeed, now let me help you out."

༄ ༄ ༄

Nicholas:

You couldn't believe that you were actually considering fooling around with your best friend in a public changing room. The way his eyes pierced into your own, completely captivating. Or the way his arms had you trapped like a scene in a K-drama. The smirk never left his face, only growing bigger as you take a deep breath, completely dazed just by his stare. He leans in close, but not enough to kiss you, like he's giving you a chance to back out now if you wish. But you don't, closing the gap instead. You gasp into the kiss, his sharp teeth biting at your lip almost instantly. His hands are around you now, holding you close as you feel his hard-on against your leg.

You yelp at the feeling and you can feel his smirk through the kiss. He slots his thigh between your legs and you instantly grind down, not realizing that you were in need of friction so fast. He chuckles, smug.

"You must really find me attractive huh? Grinding down on me already."

Your blush deepens, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

"I can say the same for you... you're bricked up and I barely groped you."

The way you speak into his neck has shivers running down his spine. His hands that moved down to your ass grip tight, letting out a shaky breath as your clothed pussy just barely makes contacts with his clothed dick.

You had to admit, the way he seemed to be melting at your actions made you feel powerful, reaching down into his boxers to grab him fully. He wasn’t expecting it, biting down on your shoulder. But two could play at the game.

He quickly removed his thigh from under your heat, instead moving your panties aside and lubing up two of his fingers with your slick. You let out a whimper, also not expecting him to touch you yet. He slowly inserts both fingers, pushing them in and out slowly before finding your spot, indicated by a concerningly loud moan for a public changing room.

He uses his other hand not occupied by your pussy to pull your chin up, attaching his lips to yours to drown out both of your moans as you both work faster. You grazed your thumb over his slit, pushing down on it a little which had him biting your lip again.

“Shit Y/N you can’t do that…”

He said against your lips, fully pushing you up against the wall as his fingers continuously hit your spot.

“Why not? Can’t handle it?”

You loved to challenge him, he always has the best reactions. He just scoffed, removing his hand from your chin and lifting your shirt up instead, pulling down your bra. He wasted no time attaching his lips to your nipple, licking and sucking as he felt you push his head further into your chest.

“Nicholas…”

You tried your best not to moan his name, but it was hard when he was making you feel so good. You were rocking your hips faster against his fingers. He did the same, thrusting his hips into your hand after you freed him from the confines of his boxers. You watched as he moved from one nipple to the other, a string of saliva following. Your head was thrown back, squeezing at his dick harder which made him stop his movements for a second.

He couldn’t cum, not yet, not before you did. He pinched your other nipple, while his mouth went to work, sucking and biting even harder than before. He added another finger as well, stretching you out even more as you felt your legs shaking from the pleasure.

“What’s wrong baby? Don’t think you can handle it?”

He’s mocking you, smiling like he was victorious in making you fall apart first. You shake your head ‘no,’ trying your best to be convincing as your body continues to fail you.

“It’s alright Y/N. Cum for me, don’t hold back.”

He connects your lips again, this time more gentle and slow and he keeps his pace. You let out little whines and whimpers at how close you are, your hand moving sloppily against his dick as the pleasure starts to overwhelm you. But you keep going, determined to make him cum as well.

You speed up your movements, making sure to squeeze at the base and tip whenever you can, constantly running your finger over his slit. You pull him closer, removing your hand from his dick and moving your panties even more, allowing him to run the head against your clit.

“Oh fuck, fuck…”

He whispers against your lips. You cave first, your release soaking his fingers and running down his dick as you realize you just squirted all over his hand. He snapped, dick twitching before cumming all over your lips and his fingers that were still in you, watching as a mixture of his cum and your squirt dripped onto the floor.

He’s panting against your lips, trying hard to catch his breath as your fingers move to hold his bicep. Your foreheads are touching, sweat dripping down your faces as you both realize the mess that you’ve made. You look down at the lewd sight before you, mentally facepalming at the embarrassing reality of your actions. He quickly moves your panties back in place, causing you to wince at the feeling of his hot cum and your wet juices sticking to your skin.

“Keep these on until we get back to my place. I have to see you squirt on my face next.”

He pushes you out of the changing room after helping you fix yourself, asking you to grab napkins to help clean up his mess. You don’t miss the way one of the workers eyes you with disgust. You quickly mouth an apology before running off to grab napkins, the feeling of your wet and ruined panties a constant reminder of your previous actions.

༄ ༄ ༄

-> Here's a link to all my other masterlists!

[j0ss-4rt]

hello total drama nation I come bearing a redraw!!

Original below

[firestia]

Little pony princesses 💗

[stars-obsession-pit]

Hello! Can do a chapter fic off this fic prompt Danny phantom x dc: https://www.tumblr.com/corkinavoid/767516270934556672/dpxdc-legal-power?source=share

This isn’t a one-to-one recreation of that dialogue but it’s based on that as a framework/premise

Batman dropped down into the room behind a pair of figures—a teenage boy and a slumped adult—letting his landing create an audible thump to alert them of his presence.

If the teen noticed, he didn’t react. Even as Bruce approached, he continued to stare impassively at the wheezing figure on the ground, an old wooden bat with flaking green paint on its side loosely held in his right hand. Bruce had already suspected who the figure would be since he arrived, but seeing the Joker so broken was still bizarre. No laughing, no schemes. He didn’t even seem to be attempting to escape his binds, just… lying there, almost as if pinned in place.

Bruce paused a step behind the teen. “I don’t know what the Joker did to you, but this isn’t the right way to go about this.”

The teen scoffed, and Bruce felt a painful lurch in his chest as he was reminded oh so strongly of his son Jason. “And what, let him go kill more people?”

“I know he deserves to face justice, but not like this. Everyone deserves a right to fair trial. No one person should be judge, jury, and executioner.”

The teen turned to look at him with glowing green eyes, and Batman felt himself freeze. He had faced gods before, yet even using that as a comparison felt like an understatement. The boy’s eyes belonged to someone far older than his teenage form implied, and they radiated power. Inevitability.

When the teen—no, the entity—spoke again, his words carried an unearthly echo. “Perhaps, but I’m not acting for just myself.” He paused, glanced down at the Joker, then asked almost conversationally, “Do you know how many people he’s killed?”

Another pause, but before Bruce could even try to answer, the entity continued, “Eight hundred and fifty-six. He’s ended the lives of eight hundred and fifty-six human souls. I can tell you about every single one, if you want. About who they were, what their dreams were before he killed them. About the pain they felt at his hands.”

He punctuated the word ‘pain’ by raising up the wooden bat in his hands and ramming its end down onto the Joker’s arm. He let out a wheeze, muffled by the gag in his mouth.

“I have a duty to my people. I am the King of the In-Between and of all the souls that pass through it—even ones whose stays were as brief as his. I am the rightful arbiter of his fate. And with that power, I sentence him to death.”

He raised the bat again, adjusting his grip so he’d hit with the side rather than the end this time, then paused and let out a chuckle. “Of course, just because it’s based on some justice doesn’t mean I can’t have a bit of fun with it too.” He swung the bat down, slamming it into the Joker’s side, then hooked it under the clown’s torso and flicked him up through the air to slam into the wall. “We all really hate this guy.”

With the entity’s attention fully turned away from him as he sauntered towards the Joker’s slumped figure, Bruce could finally unfreeze himself.

Even if the Ghost King did have the right to pass judgement on Joker, Bruce still couldn’t let torture go on like this. He wouldn’t win a direct fight, but he could hopefully at least grab the Joker and bring him over to the police. Carefully, he reached for some of the smoke bombs and batarangs on his belt and readied his grapple. He’d have to do this very, very fast.

But before he could move, another figure entered the scene. Red Hood, emerging from the shadows on the far side of the room, an unexpected bit of a pep to his step.

“Nice to see someone else who gets that that bastard needs to die. But if I may make a suggestion, how ‘bout you use a crowbar instead of that old bat? It’d be a bit more… fitting.”

[darlingpoppet]

ＬｉｍｉｎａｌＳｐａｃｅｓ— Chapter 3

Hades (Video Game) | Modern AU (College/University) | PZA | Explicit | Chapters: 3/7 | Words: 21,238 (Chapter 3: 6,763)

Summary: Inspired by The Dreamers, except make it 2010s and ｖａｐｏｒｗａｖｅ. Zagreus is a university student who feels aimless in life. His girlfriend dumped him, things between him & his best friend are weird, and he lacks ambition in his studies, all while the optimistic visions of his generation’s future are becoming lost. Until one day, he falls into the orbit of Achilles & Patroclus―a charming, yet eccentric pair who completely alter Zagreus’ outlook on life & death, love & loss, past & future, and the transitions in between. (Chapter 3 summary: Zagreus reaches a stalemate in his relationship with Thanatos. Achilles & Patroclus invite Zagreus back to their place again for what ends up being a highly-charged evening of music, games, drinking, and sex.)

Excerpt:

“Ugh, Pat. Why don’t you go get a glass?”

Achilles scowls as he watches Patroclus take a particularly clumsy swig directly from the wine bottle, accidentally allowing some to escape from the corners of his mouth and run in blood-like rivulets down his chin and neck. Achilles, to his discredit, hasn’t been behaving much better. His own glass has gone untouched for a while now, and he opts instead to pass the bottle back and forth between himself and Patroclus.

“I will get one whenever I next have an excuse to end up in the kitchen,” Patroclus says as he hands the bottle back to Achilles. “Consider every sip of wine a kiss from me.”

“Why consider it, when I can just do this?”

Achilles pours some wine into his mouth, holding it there while he leans over to Patroclus and feeds it to him. Wine dribbles out between their mouths as the transfer devolves into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. They struggle to stifle their giggles over the mess they’re making, while reveling in the delectations of the kiss.

If they were anyone else, Zagreus might have felt irritated to be made a captive audience to their impudent displays of affection. But as it is, he has difficulty ever seeing their behavior as anything but endearing. And to be fair, he thinks to himself, as he tips back his wine glass for small sip: they are probably really, really drunk.

“We should let Zagreus have a turn at the game,” Patroclus says as soon as he regains his composure.

Zagreus, whose mouth is still full, tries not to splutter as he swallows down his drink all at once. He titters incredulously.

“What, me? I don’t even know anything about the kind of music you like.”

“Don’t you worry about that,” Patroclus says kindly. “I’ll help you with it.”

“Patroclus, no, don’t you dare—” Achilles starts, his voice sharp with warning.

“It’s all right, Achilles! Don’t you want to make our guest to feel clever? And who knows, maybe you’ll know the answer.” Patroclus grins impishly as he bounds over to Zagreus’ side, taking the wine bottle with him.

“And what if he doesn’t?” Zagreus asks Patroclus.

“And if he doesn’t—” Patroclus repeats; he leans in slowly, his mouth now so close to his ear that Zagreus can hear the gentle intake of breath in his preparation to speak. Zagreus feels the coarseness of his beard, the nearness of his warmth, making his skin prickle; he can catch a whiff of the alcohol, along with the earthy, yet floral sweet smell of his dark brown skin. “—He’ll have to do whatever you say.”

READ THE REST ON AO3 HERE!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/57964459/chapters/148565071

Chapter Navigation: 1 | 2 | 3

[king-crawler]

If Ralph breaks the internet was awesome they would’ve had a part where Ralph and Vanellope load into a new game and they look over and see a crowd of people T-posing and they’re like. (whispering) what are those people doing……..

[firestorm09890]

put my fuckin guy in the combination persona 4 dungeon twewy plot dnd roleplay thing and it's awesome. mandatory persona 4 glasses made him pull his hair out of his face and it is regrettably very cute. he's trying so hard to keep the party from going off the rails. he's on the verge of sensory meltdown himself. he's a genius whose input is valuable. he's projecting and probably shouldn’t be here. he's so cool. he's visibly uncomfortable being around everyone else. he cast the level 3 spell Fear on a Shark Noise. yeah the one from week 1 day 4 that killed Rhyme. it didn't kill Rhyme this time, heh [puts on my sunglasses