#PEGASUS YOU BETTER RUN

[emile-hides]

Hey, requesting a ramble; given the chance what singular thing would you change about Fairy Tale as a show?

What would you change about the fandom?

Blessed with the ability to ramble I'm gonna answer these out of order because one I want to actually go off about and the other I'm trying so hard not to be too negative with.

The fandom itself, I'm surprised to find, is still alive. Mostly for the manga, 100 Year Quest, and the Gajeel spin off apparently. Super cool love that for y'all.

But I think the general Fairy Tail fandom is very... Boring?

I don't want to be mean! Everyone has the right to enjoy fandom however they want of course! This is an attack on no one! Live your life! I love and respect you so much!!

Just like. 90% of the active fandom are infatuated with Natsu/Lucy exclusively, which I don't get at all. Coming from My Hero Academia, I saw how big the cast of this program was and really expected everyone to have their little Blorbo guy with their own niche content. Blurry screen caps and low quality images with "There he is the scrimblo!!" kind of nonsense.

Instead the entire place only cares about the Main Guys Smooching. There's no crack ships, there's no Tono Rabbits Stan accounts, there's no Some Gremlin Blorbo from my shows background character lovers and it's Really jarring?? And boring. Y'all boring.

If I could change anything about the fandom, I'd ask y'all to pick A Guy (gender neutral) and go rabid for them. There's so many guys of so many types in this program. Please fawn over someone other than the main 7.

Okay I'm worried about this post being annoying and too long so what I'd change about the show itself is going under a Read More

Really I want to change a LOT about the program itself. The execution, the treatment of most female characters, everything with Lisanna, the lore behind Magic, the Morals behind Magic. There's a lot to unpack here.

But if I absolutely had to pick one thing to change it's be the character's ages.

I found out recently that Mirajane is 19 in canon. Cana is 18. The oldest woman in the Guild before the 7 year time skip was Evergreen at 20. TWENTY. That's how old Bisca is when she gives birth to Asuka!! (roughly. Asuka doesn't have a canon age but she's somewhere between 5-6 based on how she acts)

I'm twirling this show's timeline on a fork like Spaghetti these girls are going to be 20+ and you're going to like it.

Here's my rough concept so far (this is for the beginning of the series, the wiki list their ending ages, after the two different 1 year time skips and the 7 year stasis)

I want to make Natsu the oldest of the dragon raised dragon slayers, but still roughly the same age as Grey. I'm thinking 23 or 24 for the both of them, with Gajeel close behind at 22, and Laxus just ahead at 25 or 26.

Lucy I want to be the youngest current member, so she can stay at 17-18, but I also want Erza to be young compared to the Raised By The Guild squad, so she's 19, maybe? Levy's 20-21, Cana's 23, and Juvia is 19-20, like Erza.

Mira gets the most change because I just think she should be pushing 30, maybe 27 or 28. Elfman about 3 or 4 years younger at 24 or 25, to keep him Grey/Natsu aged. Lisanna has about the same age gap, 3 or 4 years, making her somewhere between 20 and 22.

I really jangled up the Thunder Legion because apparently Bickslow is the oldest at 22 in canon. He's still 22 in this version but now he's the Thunder Baby. I wanted to keep Freed around the same age as Laxus, so 25, and Evergreen the same age as Mira, maybe a tad younger at 26-27. I like the idea of Bickslow being the youngest anyway, he's big but young and it fits with his personality. I'm tempted to make him 18, but your 20's are age of being dumb anyway so it's fine.

Macao and Wakaba are in their mid 30's at the beginning of the series, Reedus in his early 30's on par with Mira maybe older, with Warren, Max, and Mest all near mid 20's I think. I don't have exact numbers for them because I don't really know if they're meant to be Natsu's peers or not, but they all seem pretty young and stupid. Jet and Droy are the same-ish age as Levy, 20-22, with Jet being a year younger than them.

Wendy's hard because apparently she's 12 when we meet her, but she doesn't change at all in the next 2 years, which simply isn't how being on the cusp of puberty works. But I don't have as much wiggle room as I do with everyone else sense she's at the stage where she should be growing a lot so I'll just keep her 12-13.

Unrelated but Sting and Rouge being the same age as Wendy is the reason I hate the 7 year stasis thing. We deserve more age diversity in dragon slayers, I say. They can't all be a brisk 18, that's boring. Also how old is Erik??? Genuine question I cannot get a read on him.

The exceeds are also hard but it bothers me that supposedly they all hatched at the same time when they were supposed to be an entire lost generation (which for humans is about 20 years, cats about 2 years). Unfortunately I don't have a scale for how long they are expected to live, what their incubation period is like, how long their infancy to adulthood is, if Happy and Carla are even considered child bearing aged adults in their society at their canon age of 6, etc.

Still I think there should be a few years or so between them, so in order oldest to youngest of Earthland born Exceeds it's goes; Carla, Samuel, Lector, Happy, and Frosch. Also I wanna add right here unrelated to anything, Nadi is my second favorite Exceed, right behind Samuel. I love them.

I realize this causes a collection of problems with how the timeline reads, but considering the constant usage of 7 years never really came up in a meaningful way I am more than happy to tear that consistency apart.

[heretic-altias]

It is with incredible exhaustion and great excitement I announce I've finished a pretty cool mod for my fellow horse lovers.

Plenty of you have probably used Zwierze's horse mod, and maybe some of you have used my better manes and tails mod. Horse Improved combines the two mods into one, giving you the flowing mane and tail on a horse thats actually horse shaped.

Big thanks to @zwierzodudle for their mod and for being cool with me using it for this!

The mod affects all horses on the unicorn and pegasus model. Let me know if you run into any issues with the hair because I'm not exactly a weight painting expert (they took me days rip my sanity).

[funnyjb]

Look at the Stars

One of your twins is having a hard time sleeping one night. It was the night before one of joes games so some family was over. You guys were talking in the living room when Logan came down the stairs with his blankie and looks like he’s been crying.

“Mama?!”- Logan

He was crying

He ran up to you in the living room.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong.”- you

The burrow family counting both of joes siblings and their wife’s were sitting around waiting for Logan’s response

“I’m really scared. I heard a monster coming from the closet and noises in da walls.”- Logan

“Oh, baby. Those are just house noises. The air conditioning just turned on so that’s what’s causing the rumbling and I bet you something fell in the closet. There is a lot of junk in there.”- you said running your fingers through his hair

“I’m still really scared. I don’t want to go up there. It’s scary.”- Logan said putting his hand on your baby bump that has been growing these past 5 months

His head resting on your chest.

“Is mason still sleeping?”- you asked

Logan nodded his head.

You looked around the room and then at Joe.

He looked at you also trying to figure out what to do.

“Hey, I want to go show you something. I think it will make you feel much better.”- you smile

“Oktay.”- Logan

You got up slowly and then reached for Logan’s hand. He put his hand on top of yours and laced your fingers together.

“Let’s go.”- you whisper

You started walking to the glass sliding door that goes out to the backyard.

It was dark out. Some light illuminated the backyard from the house.

You both started walking further and into a big grassy area that looks out into the Cincinnati skyline from your house and a small river.

You picked Logan up and sawing him around you being careful of your bump.

“Look! You see those beautiful stars?”- you

“Yeah..”- Logan

“There are thousands of stars up in the night sky! Some of them even make funny shapes! Like, you see that one right there?”- you pointed a little bit towards the left

“That’s the Pegasus.”- you smile

Logan looked mesmerized

“These stars will protect you. They are up there so they can look out for you. Shining bright so you can see them. If you ever feel scared just look out the window or picture the stars in that wonderful brain of yours.”- you point at his head and laugh

Logan starts to laugh making your heart grow fonder.

“And know those stars will protect you. And also daddy and I are here to protect you too. We won’t let anything get you, ok? They aren’t real, they’re just made up in your mind.”- you smile trying to calm him down

“But why does ma mind do that?”- Logan

“Because your mind likes to play tricks on you, but you got to be the stronger person and say “it’s not real, it’s all made up.” And your mind will back off.”- you

“Okaty. Thank you, mommy.”- Logan

“Of course, baby. I’m always here for you, so is daddy and mason and even your sister.”- you

You give him a kiss on the cheek and decide to go back in. It was already 9:00.

You opened the door and walked in. Everyone was still sitting and talking.

“You ready to go to bed, Bubs?”- you

Logan nodded.

“Okay, let’s say goodnight.”- you

Logan started to wave his hand goodbye

“Bye Logan!”- Robin

“He is precious.”- Codi (joes sister in law)

You then walked over to Joe so he could say goodnight.

He got up and placed his hand on your arm and his other on Logan’s head and kissed him goodnight.

“Goodnight, my boy. Love you.”- Joe

He placed a soft kiss on Logan’s cheek then looked at you.

“You got him?”- joe

“Yeah, all good!”- you

“Good.”- joe

He then placed a peck on your lips.

You then walked up the stairs and into the boys room.

Mason was sleeping peacefully as you put Logan in his bed.

“Goodnight, baby. Love you to the moon and back.” - you

“Love you too, mommy”- Logan

You then placed a kiss on his forehead and got up. You moved from his bed to mason also placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek. Then exited the room slowly closing the door behind you.

You went back down stairs and into the family room.

“How is he?”- joe

“He’s ok now. He looked like he was going to fall right asleep when I put him down.”- you

You sat next to Joe on the couch. He put his arm around your shoulder and gave your head a kiss

“You are so good with them, y/n. It used to take forever to convince Joe that there was nothing there at night when he was younger.”- Robin laughed

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure everything was perfectly fine.”- joe

“He used to get scared of thunder and run into our bed too.”- Jimmy laughed

“Really guys? Ganging up on me?”- Joe

“Haha it’s ok, joe. I’ll protect you from thunder and scary monsters at night.”- you laughed

He looked down at you and started laughing and pulled you in closer.

“Thank you, baby.”- joe smiled

Joe was so grateful for you. He loved you ever since he laid eyes on you in college and now he gets to raise his kids with the love of his life. His heart was so full when he saw you take care of Logan tonight. He loved seeing you take on the mom role. He can’t imagine life without you and the boys.

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Mutual Masturbation | Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Afab GN!Reader

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), Kinktober 2023

Summary: Your boyfriend overhears you joking with your friends that men don't seem invested in pleasing their partners. He's determined to learn exactly how you like to be taken care of.

WC: 2k

Warnings: Unprotected sex (have fun, be safe), mutual masturbation, squirting, breeding kink, use of petnames for reader (baby, pretty), mention of potentially passing out near the end

A'N: Sorry that this took so long, but hopefully we'll be back at it soon here! Enjoy

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha / @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog // @wonwooz1

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

It had really just been a stupid conversation between friends, a silly little comment you'd made about how men always seemed to have such a hard time pinpointing what their partners liked, as if they were too concerned with themselves to put in that much effort. You hadn't anticipated Chan overheating it, let alone the confrontation that would come afterwards.

"Do I make you feel good?" He asked one night over take out. You gave him a look, not entirely sure what he was talking about or what had prompted it.

"What? Make me feel good?" You asked, taking a bite of your egg roll. He nodded with a firm, serious look on his face.

"Yeah. I heard you talking when your friends were over. And you said men never learn how to make their partners feel good. Do I make you feel good? Or is there something I should learn?"

He didn't sound angry, but the intensity in his demeanor was enough to tell you that he was being completely serious. You put down your food, turning to face him.

"Channie, if this is about you being insecure or anything, you don't need to. Im very satisfied, don't worry about that," You told him carefully. "it was really just a joke, I was just having a chat with the girls, and Chaer had been complaining about the guy shed been seeing."

Chan shook his head. "No that's not what it is, not exactly. Im not worried, I know I can take care of you. But if I can take care of you better, I wanna know. I wanna take care of you the way you do."

"Okay?" You asked, motioning for him to go on.

"So I want you to teach me." He said.

"Teach you?"

"Teach me how to make you cum. Show me how you like to be fucked."

The words set your entire body on fire, heat searing straight to your core. Your food was forgotten as you tried to wrap your head around the request from your boyfriend.

"You want me to...touch myself for you?" You asked. Chan had never been overly possessive or anything, but he was always determined to make you feel good on his own. And he was certainly good at it, you had never been let down. 

"Will you? If you're comfortable with that."

"Yeah. Yeah I can try."

Which was how you ended up propped against a pile of pillows in your shared room, spread out on the bed while Chan sat in his gaming chair at the end of the bed. It was the hundredth time he'd seen you naked, but something about it felt so much more exposed. You had stripped down, but he was still completely clothed, insistent that this wasn't about him.

"Do I just..."

"Do what you'd normally do. What you do when I'm not around to play with you." He said. You nodded, closing your eyes and trying not to be hyper aware of the eyes on you.

You started slow, your fingertips running up your stomach, over the curve of your chest and back down again, dragging your dull nails over your skin and humming at the feeling. It was nice, just giving yourself the attention. You brought one hand up, letting it dance along your collarbone, over the sensitive spots on your neck while the other flicked and toyed with your nipple. You whined lowly, basking in the light shocks sent through you at the soft tugs.

You could hear Chan, hear the way that his breath caught when you made any sort of noise, and you imagined that he was making mental notes of every spot that earned the tiniest squirms or hums of approval. He was reading you like a book, memorizing your body like it was the most important thing he'd ever learned.

The hand not occupied with your nipples slid down, teasing over your waist, along your hip. Working closer and closer to the heat between your legs that was begging for your attention. But it never strayed that far, following the path over your thighs, scratching at the sensitive skin there and making you purr.

"So pretty," Chan mumbled, and you weren't sure if you were meant to hear. You probably wouldn't have if it wasn't for the fact that your ears were already straining for signs of his presence. You moaned quietly in return, letting your legs spread open and teasing your hand higher, tracing the seam where your thigh met your crotch, brushing ever so lightly against your lower lips. You huffed out a quiet breath at your own teasing. But you knew you had to work yourself up first or you'd be chasing an orgasm that wasn't interested in being caught.

Finally you let your fingers dip through the pool of arousal you'd worked up. You arched a little from the bed, a hiss of relief coming from your lips at finally getting some friction. You spread the wetness up to your clit, brushing against the bundle of nerves just a little before slipping your fingers lower again to gather more of it. You repeated the process until the movement was smooth, easy, and you were battling the urge to give in too quickly.

So you did, rubbing tight circles around your clit, a pretty sigh coming from your lips as you chased the feeling of your fingers, strumming the nerves just right. You heard the chair as Chan shifted, a stifled groan that you just knew it was because of him biting down on his lip.

You slid your other hand down, sliding a finger into your desperately empty hole and then another quickly after, unsatisfied with your own touch after giving in to Chan's so often. Once you were pushed even further into desperation by one finger, you added a second, scissoring yourself open for him and trying to push them even deeper. His fingers filled you up better, they could reach spots yours couldn't. You whined loud and very much not content with your situation.

"Channie, please. Can't do it myself." You pouted, opening your eyes to look at him. The sight in front of you was breathtaking, Chan sitting back with his shirt hiked up to show off the solid muscle of his stomach, and his pants pushed down just low enough for him to have pulled his cock out. His hand was wrapped firmly around the base and he was rock hard, the tip of his dick was a pretty, dark shade of pink and leaking precum that trailed down along the heavy vein that ran up his length. Your hips rocked upwards into your hand, wanting him inside of you so badly that it was downright painful. "Can't make myself cum. Please, need you to do it. Want it so bad."

He groaned, biting down on his lip in an attempt to keep his focus from faltering as he watched you fingering yourself. Your hand against your clit had stalled, just putting pressure on the nub as your hips rolled against your fingers. He shook his head.

"I'm sorry, baby. Can't help, need to see how you do it. Gotta get it right." He said, brows furrowed in either concentration or pleasure, and you didn't try to figure out which it was because he was jerking himself off now, slow and steady in hard strokes. You needed to be the one wrapped around him, you needed to feel him fuck you just like that.

"Channie, I can't. Can't make myself cum as good as you can. Needs to be you, baby please. Please, it hurts. Just want you to fuck me, don't wanna try anymore. Need it to be you." You were on the verge of tears now, desperate and so worked up that you thought you might actually explode. You just needed him to take care of you. Besides, if he wanted to know what made you feel best, he'd have to be fucking you anyways. Nothing new that you could teach him.

You heard a stuttered moan, and he was squeezing the base of his cock so hard that you could only imagine it hurt.

"Can't say things like that, pretty." He muttered, already getting up and shedding his clothes like they burned him. "Beg so pretty for me, gotta take care of my baby. You tried so hard, didn't you? Just couldn't do it."

He climbed onto the bed and knocked your hand away from your dripping pussy. You quickly obliged, letting him take over. Two of his fingers dipped easily into your warmth, curling and twisting and making you moan his name so loud that you were sure to have a noise complaint in the morning. He hummed appreciatively.

"Feel better, baby? Giving you what you need?" He asked, and you shook your head, gripping at his wrist.

"Want your cock. Please, want you to fuck me. Fill me up." You said, giving him the most persuasive eyes that you could manage. He sighed out, eyes closing for a second and you could see them roll back under his eyelids, trying to keep himself in check. He always had the philosophy that you would cum at least once before he did, always the gentleman even when he was fucking you dumb. You were determined, it seemed, to test him on that today.

"So needy. Just for me. My greedy baby. Always need me to dick you down. Want me to breed you too, you always do." He was practically talking to himself as he lined himself up and slid into you. You whimpered, pure relief shocking through your body. You nodded, hands grabbing at his waist, tugging him closer and forcing his cock impossibly deep.

"Yeah, need your cock." You agreed quickly, already rocking up to meet his hips. Any coherent thought you'd had the entire time was gone now, just chasing the sweet feeling of his hips clashing against yours in hard, hurried thrusts as both of you lost your self control.

"Look how fucking perfectly you take it." His hands pushing your thighs up to your chest, exposing the way your pussy sucked him in for him to admire. "Gonna fill you up so good. Stuff you full of cum just the way you like it. My pretty baby. Come on, cum on my dick. I know you want it, been so good. Playing with yourself for Channie. So fucking-"

His words cut off abruptly as your walls clamped down around him hard enough to have his pace slowing. Your surprised cry hurt your throat as you came, juices gushing around him and wetting the bed underneath you. He didn't last a second longer, spilling inside of you and flicking at your clit to push you through the last few spasms of pleasure that rocked you.

"Can't believe it," He breathed out, hands moving to caress your quivering thighs. "You squirted. God, you're so perfect, didn't even know you could do that."

You giggled, body feeling warm and heavy and only grounded by the feeling of Chan touching you ever so gently. You blinked a few times, looking up at him and revelling in the look of pure amazement and adoration on his face.

"Didn't know I could do that either." You said. You watched him for a moment longer, the way he touched you like you were the most beautiful thing to ever grace his presence, and then he stopped.

"Gotta do it again, baby. Gotta learn how to make you do it every time. Gotta practice."

You whined at the thought, knowing how your boyfriend got when he set his mind to something. He was going to keep you up all night at this rate, and you'd be lucky if you didn't pass out by morning.

copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

[fullyvisible]

Since I found it helpful for Seasons 1 and 2, I've also made a list of all the songs in Season 3 of Heartstopper, with notes on what's happening while each plays! While I've kept the descriptions relatively brief/vague, there are (obviously) still spoilers below:

1. The Way Things Go - opening, Tori, Charlie rehearsing in the mirror

2. It's Euphoric - arriving at the beach

3. Paradise Calling - Tao and Elle get ice cream

4. Happy, Healthy, Well-Adjusted - sand castles, song in Charlie's headphones

5. A Letter to Myself at 17 - Charlie and Nick in the sea

6. Superinlove (Roll Credits) - Tao cooks for Elle

7. Duet - Charlie looking at pictures and remembering

8. Best Day Of My Life - I love you, kiss under streetlight, Tara and Darcy sleeping, Tao and Elle dinner, end of episode one

9. **It Gets Better - beginning of episode two, Nick leaving for vacation, texting Charlie

10. I'm Not Perfect (But I'm Trying) - exam results

11. Shell - Charlie scrolling insta stories, won't send selfie

12. Abigail - Nick looks at phone and listens to music

13. Vertigo - Darcy unpacks with Tara and Elle

14. My Vine - Nick and his Aunt talk on the beach, end of episode two

15. Car Park - beginning episode three, first day of school

16. Pretty Boy - Nick and Charlie see each other!

17. Genesis - Tao following Elle's every move on social media

18. One That Got Away - zoo!!!

19. complex - Nick goes with Charlie to talk to his parents, end of episode three

20. I Spend Too Much Time In My Room - beginning of episode four, Nick and Tara talk, Nick journals

21. Black Friday -Nick trying to be there for Charlie

22. BLUE - Halloween party, Tao's video

23. I Wanna Know - Halloween party

24. Wide Eyes and Halos - Halloween party

25. Liquer & Cigarettes - Halloween party

26. darkwave sabbat - Halloween party

27. leavemealone - Halloween party

28. Witchcraft - Halloween party

29. Wish on an Eyelash - Visiting Charlie

30. Seratonin - Charlie arrives at treatment

31. That Was the Worst Christmas Ever! - beginning episode 5, Tori waking up and going to Charlie

32. Are You OK? - Christmas montage with the group chat

33. Bruises Off the Peach - Charlie leaves Tori and goes to Nick

34. So Clear - Christmas with Nick's family

35. Too Much Time Together - Nick and Henry getting ready

36. Enjoy Your Life - New Year's house party arrival

37. Rush - New Year's party

38. Devotion - New Year's party (Tao and Elle)

39. Loveher - New Year's party (Tori)

40. In My Head - New Year's party (Imogen and Sahar, Tori and Michael, midnight!), end of episode five

41. I Used to Be Fun - Charlie's birthday

42. A Young Understanding - Charlie's party, tents

43. Just Stay For Once - Charlie's party, drinking

44. good 4 u - Charlie's party, more drinking

45. Sad Disco - Charlie's party, talking future

46. A Running Start - therapy, end of episode six

47. Dive - beginning episode seven, Tara's ballet class, Nick and Charlie heart eyes

48. Pegasus - Tara and Darcy hooking up

49. Heartbreaker - Nick and Charlie in the locker room and rugby pitch, Nick suggests sleepover

50. The Most Beautiful Thing - Tao's movie for Elle

51. Ode to a Conversation Suck In Your Throat - Nick and Charlie hooking up, end of episode seven

52. Love You - Charlie gets to school, montage of Nick and Charlie's exams

53. Right Here, For Now - touring Kent

54. Close One - touring Oxford

55. Joe - Nick and Charlie phone call, Leeds tour

56. A Good Thing - Charlie looking at Head Boy application and choosing outfit for band performance

57. The Outsiders - leaving the fair

58. million little reasons - Nick and Charlie's sleepover, end of season three

[duckprintspress]

Mythical Creature Pride Enamel Pins and Stickers!

The Kickstarter campaign to create enamel pins and stickers of these six absolutely precious mythical creature designs is now live! Love Pride? Love cute creatures? Longing to fly your Pride colors high with some cute-but-subtle Pride beasties? You have come to the right place! We’ve taken our excitement for Pride 2024 and turned it into six precious, adorable, gorgeous designs featuring playful mythical creatures in Pride flag colors that you’re not gonna want to miss! 

Each design is available as a die-cut sticker and as an enamel pin. You can get whichever stickers and pins you want: mix-and-match; get duplicates; or even back at our highest, premium backer level and get to anoint one of these cuties with a name that we’ll use for them forever after this campaign!

All the artwork is by Pippin Peacock ( @migglangelus ), who brought 110% of their inspiration, creativity, and dedication to this project, and logistics are being handled by Nina Waters at Duck Prints Press.

The designs are:

Pegasus, in transgender pride flag colors.

Loch Ness, in mlm/gay pride flag colors.

Phoenix, in wlw/lesbian pride flag colors.

Dragon, in non-binary pride flag colors.

Chimera, in bisexual pride flag colors.

Cerberus, in asexual pride flag colors (these are also the colors of the demisexual pride flag).

This campaign is running through April 2nd 2024, and we are aiming for fulfillment before or during Pride month in June.

Even better – if we can hit our stretch goals, we can offer more creatures in more flag colors!

So help us reach our goals – check out the campaign and become a backer now!

[yanderes-galore]

Could you do a Virus AU Fluttershy concept?

Yeah, sure! If anyone knows a better way to have the virus start... let me know!

Infection order for the AU can be found here

Previous - Twilight Sparkle

Next - Applejack

Yandere Virus! Fluttershy Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Love virus/Yandere virus AU, Love potion/spell gone wrong, Manipulation, Forced affection, Clingy behavior, Stalking, Mentions of blood/violence, Overprotective behavior, Forced relationship attempted.

Fluttershy, according to the poll, is the second pony to be infected.

This is surprising as the pegasus mostly spends time with her animals and Discord.

Twilight is the first infected, having been afflicted with the virus by trying to make a love spell/potion.

Or at least... that's a vague explanation for how everything starts.

Poor you is immune to the virus due to having the love magic cast on you.

You have no idea what's wrong... but other ponies find you irresistible.

This is obviously not Twilight's intention, she may have already felt a crush towards you and wanted you to fall for her, regardless on if she was yandere behavior.

But instead of making you fall in love... others fall in love with you... including Twilight.

Fluttershy probably gets infected due to you running to her for help.

Discord may be immune due to his chaos magic, but Fluttershy is not.

The pegasus is shocked when you come knocking on her cottage door.

She opens the door only to see you shaking and terrified.

In fact... does she spot blood on your coat?

Are you injured!?

Fluttershy wastes no time dragging you inside to tend to you.

She quickly grabs medical supplies and gets to bandaging your damaged skin.

She quickly asks what happened and you answer with fear in your tone.

Supposedly Twilight has gone rogue.

Some sort of experiment made her act weird towards you.

When you visited her she came at you with a violent yet possessive behavior.

You barely escaped her, which was the reasoning behind your injuries.

You fear Twilight is still looking for you... so you came to Fluttershy for help.

The pegasus... such a kind soul... promises she'll help you as best as she can.

Unbeknownst to her she's already fallen for the virus.

Fluttershy offers to have you stay with her in her cottage as you heal.

Discord may be the first to notice something wrong with Fluttershy.

The pegasus seems oddly protective of you when you express fear of Twilight.

Well... that's mostly normal.

But soon Fluttershy is leaning against you and nuzzling into you.

You feel fear envelop you when she wraps a wing around you or tries to kiss you at times.

Slowly but surely the virus takes its toll, causing the normally kind pegasus to become possessive over you.

She begins to lose control of herself.

When you're all healed... you thank her and say how you're going to get help before anypony else gets hurt.

But why should you get help?

You have her to help you.

You begin to realize your mistake of coming to her when Fluttershy starts blocking the door.

After all... you came to her for help, right?

If you go out there... Twilight could get you.

Neither of you want that, do you?

So... stay at her cottage...

She'll take good care of you.

Forever.

You end up having to get Discord to help you or sneak out.

If not... Fluttershy plans to restrain you in her cottage.

Can't have you getting yourself hurt, right?

When you manage to break out of her cottage you kick into your adrenaline once again.

You can't go to the library... you can't go to Fluttershy's home...

So you choose another destination...

You make your way to Sweet Apple Acres... in hopes neither Twilight or Fluttershy will follow you.

[possumteeths]

Like a Rotten Dog

Baldurs Gate 3, Rolan x Reader, Rolan x Human!Tav (Second person nondescript femme insert) 5,800 words, Porn with feelings, Rated E. Rolan POV. My works will never use the Y/N device.

Summary:

Rolan miserably fucks a pillow while thinking big thoughts. He thinks about how obnoxious you are and how it's completely unfair that you've forced him into such a state. Unfortunately for him, his train of thought betrays his determination to hate you. "What are you to do now? Storm Ramazith’s tower atop a glittering pegasus? Perhaps you’ll declare him a poor maiden in need of a hero and expect him to swoon and fall at your feet? Should he kiss you for luck as well? Give you a handkerchief? For all the painful obedience he’s given to Lorroakan, it would be a simple thing to give it to you instead, wouldn’t it? So far you’ve asked for nothing, (not that he would’ve given you anything besides a pinched declaration of thanks) but surely his bill is due soon." "Surely you’ll come to collect since you’re so adept at finding him no matter his location."

Fic & tags under the cut or on ao3!

Tags:

He should’ve known that you would arrive at Sorcerous Sundries sooner rather than later.

Regarding Rolan’s well-being, you were like a bloodhound to his discomfort. You were always exactly where you needed to be, which was often exactly where he wished you’d keep far, far away from. With the sense of incoming doom in Baldur's Gate, he should’ve assumed you’d be hot on its trail and he was soon to run into you eventually.

Still, he wished you could’ve reunited under more pleasant circumstances. Your face lit up in recognition once you saw him behind the counter, only for your expression to morph through the motions of shock and anger before settling on disgusting concern. It was the concern that burned him, the bruise under his eye flared up like a fleshly bleeding wound and Rolan did everything in his power to keep his head held high. He didn’t need your help and he certainly did not need your pity. The very concept of pity coated his throat with the acidic taste of bile.

You had no right to swoop into his life and save him from his failures time and time again. For once, he wanted to fix his own problems. Lorroakan was a… difficult man, but a learned one. Rolan thought that if he could just toughen up and learn all that he could, perhaps he’d finally be free of your meddling. Perhaps he’d finally be able to sleep at night, unafraid of being an utter failure. Didn’t he owe that to his family? To himself? If he could just be better— a better man, a better wizard, then he could defend himself for once. He wouldn’t need you and your concern. He wouldn’t feel inadequate or unsure of himself ever again. If he could be a better version of himself, then he would be able to look you in the eye without all the shame that came with it.

How was it possible that you managed to look so good while he knew that you spent your days out there fighting and surviving by the skin of your teeth? All he’d done since reaching the city was bow his head and allow his master to use him as an outlet for his temper. He felt like a whipped dog who’d done nothing wrong besides give his utmost obedience and you looked like hope incarnate. Your pity felt like freedom although it burned like shame. By the time you left the shop, Rolan firsthand witnessed the steady growth of determination swell beneath your skin and he knew that you were soon to do something that left him no choice but to thank you for his life again.

At this point, there weren’t enough words in any language to voice the gratitude you were owed. The crumbs of respect that Rolan begrudgingly handed to you were too much and not enough. So far, the only recent decision he’d made for himself left his ego and body badly bruised. Sure, he’d taken charge of Zevlor’s incompetence and got as many people as he could to safety— but if saving the refugees were up to you, no one would’ve been left behind. Perhaps his siblings might not have been taken in the first place.

The creaky door to Rolan’s meager living quarters feels heavier than normal as he defeatedly pushes it open. All his confidence and what he used to think was talent awarded him the finery of a single room and splintery floorboards. He heads for a mostly empty red bottle atop a shelf and downs the last few dregs of it, hoping the potion might soothe some general aches and pains if it wasn’t enough to heal any of them. Earlier, you’d purchased as many health potions as the shop had in store, traded three magical amulets for an extremely powerful scroll, and tipped him for the trouble of bringing you everything you purchased. Throwing gold at him, you had the audacity to ask if he was alright with a tinge of fury in your tone. Gods he hated you at that moment. He was doing what he had to for survival. Because of him, his family had a roof over their heads. What was the cost of a few arbitrary wounds for the price of safety? What would you know about something like that?

Immediately, the thought is shut down by guilt and fresh anger has him slamming the empty potion bottle down. The rickety shelf rattles, but there’s no one around to witness his frustration. Right now, he can’t bear the idea of his siblings seeing the state of himself. Heavy feet drag him to a mirror and Rolan concludes that he doesn’t look awful, the wounds he wore were trophies that displayed his dedication to magic. Ugly to only the ignorant. No one but him could understand that. His siblings didn’t care to listen to reason, and Rolan didn’t need to ask his sister to know she was conspiring to do something about his problem— only she didn’t hold a candle to your ridiculous tenacity.

What are you to do now? Storm Ramazith’s tower atop a glittering pegasus? Perhaps you’ll declare him a poor maiden in need of a hero and expect him to swoon and fall at your feet? Should he kiss you for luck as well? Give you a handkerchief? For all the painful obedience he’s given to Lorroakan, it would be a simple thing to give it to you instead, wouldn’t it? What would you ask of him in exchange for your help? So far you’ve asked for nothing, (not that he would’ve given you anything besides a pinched declaration of thanks) but surely his bill is due soon. Surely you’ll come to collect since you’re so adept at finding him no matter his location.

A fresh wave of outrage guides him away from self-depreciation, but it comes with a delicate aftertaste of something new. You asked him why he was so rude to you back in the grove, —the conversation feels as if it happened a lifetime ago— and Rolan haughtily remembers your displeasure in his lack of reverence. At least that’s how he chose to interpret your question. Unbeknownst to you, he had the makings of greatness in him too. You were just a stranger to him, a mere moment in his soon-to-be great story. One day he’d be a powerful and renowned spellcaster and you’d likely be a statue or a painting, felled in battle and remembered by few. Your meddling was only delaying the inevitable. You were keeping him from his destiny and you were upset with him for refusing to inflate your ego? Did you expect him to look at you like a wide-eyed pup, stars in his eyes in the shadow of your glory?

If he was less of a man, Rolan would’ve picked up a pillow and screamed into it. You’ve tainted the distaste he has for you and because of this, guilt-laced shame makes his stomach twist. A healing blister on his side reminds him that he’s a coward, he’s too stubborn for his own good and a tiny part of his pride rolled over on its back, belly up, tail wagging when he set eyes on you this morning. Even now, his tail flicks behind him in the way it does when he thinks of you. Rolan couldn’t find it in him to ask how you were faring, but now he regrets his clipped words and the demand for you to leave him and his problems alone. You weren’t going to listen to his plea anyhow, so why waste the words? He should’ve swallowed his attitude and spoken to you as a friend.

But— there lies the problem.

Rolan doesn’t have friends. He never felt the need for anyone's company besides his siblings. He’s bookish, too busy with his studies and his magic to go out of his way to socialize with anyone. Why would he? No one ever wants to talk with him, and when he finds himself forced into a conversation he’s overly aware of the humor that people find in him. No one respects him. Cal and Lia keep him company because they have to, and they’re all the support he needs. He doesn’t know the first thing about friendliness or pleasantry and he doesn’t care to learn.

After you wiped out the goblin camp and set his people toward hopeful safety, his sister told him to seek you out at your party— but you ended up coming to him instead. Caught off guard, all he could do was lamely conjure a few dancing lights for your entertainment and he wasn’t able to hold the spell for very long. His tongue felt as if it had become furred, he couldn’t remember what exactly he’d said to you but he did remember his sister’s horrified expression in response. She thinks he’s harboring feelings toward you, and he supposes her assumption is half correct. He has a lot of feelings pertaining to you but none of them were sweet and soft.

It didn’t matter anyhow. By all accounts, he should despise you (and perhaps he does), but the way he feels is overly complicated and tightly wound. Why do you dress the way you do? Why do you smell so pleasant? Caked in mud and splattered with gore, you manage to wear it all stylishly. Why do you care about everything as much as you do? Where do you find the motivation to put one foot in front of the other and carry on? Aren’t you tired? Every time you’ve sought him out, you ask if he’s alright before immediately offering your aid. You try to speak with him, you’ll ask him about his siblings out of politeness, but he always shuts you down like an idiot addicted to the taste of his boot wedged between his teeth. Everything you are rubs abrasively against everything he tries to be. His confidence is always received poorly while yours shines obtrusively enough that people are forced to love the way it blinds them.

You’ve done your best to put Rolan into a daze as well, but his determination to dislike you has become a core tenant of his personality. You deserve his thanks, you deserve his respect. You have every right to force him to kneel and then command for him to kiss your boots. The only thing you’d have to do for such worship would be to demand it. You could take it from him just as Master Lorroakan does. But you won't. The confusing, awful way he feels toward you would be so much easier to compartmentalize if you were cruel. He wishes disgust would replace your pity, that way it would be easier to justifiably hate you. If he could imagine you laughing at him, calling him pathetic, and exposing him for the coward he is, then he wouldn’t be rushing for his bed, hands already working at his robes to find the ties that hold his breeches at his hips.

This world is cruel and the animal law of predator against prey is just as prominent as it is amongst beasts. He’s survived thus far because of you and now he bows for false promises, willfully misleading himself into thinking that he’s anything besides a whipping boy. The punishment bruised and burned into him is deserved. For all that he’s given in exchange, he thinks that he’s gotten off easily if anything. Certain laws of nature shouldn’t be broken and he should not have gotten to this point by cheating his way along instead of taking the hits that came with his repeated failures. What pact has he declared in exchange for your patronage? What are the stipulations he’s agreed to? You’re not winged but you’re radiant just the same. Perhaps the obnoxiously attractive body you wear is an illusion, perhaps you’re a devil who followed him from Elturel with the sheer intent of ruining his life.

Caged and afraid, desperate to be anything besides what he is, you’ve rendered him into a broken thing. A broken thing whose throat is dry, whose hand shakes as he miserably gropes the swollen length of his cock. A stubborn part of his psyche still thinks he’s a man, you’re a pretty face and the closest thing to a friend that he’s aware of. Of course, you make him hard. There’s no shame to be found in a natural reaction to someone whose attention wanders back to him like a pet with a penchant for running away. In the quiet moments of whatever respite he’s able to steal for himself, Rolan’s wandering mind often breaches a handful of thoughts that he’s determined to keep under lock and key. If he lets his mind dash away from reason, sometimes he thinks about touching you, he wonders what you’d feel like if you were wet and wanting.

Weeks ago, while flipping through a book on anatomy from the tower’s library, he paused on a few figure drawings of a naked human woman. He dared to look at her breasts and the shape of her hips in a rather unstudious manner and his composure unraveled from there. He’s never wanted to dwell on things he finds unnecessary; women and all the struggle that came before sex felt like too much of a headache to pursue. Rolan’s seen what fools it makes of people, he’s seen more people than he cares to think about who are horns deep in grief after losing someone they loved. Keeping himself safe from such matters felt like the smartest thing he could do, he didn’t wish to expend time or effort to pursue anything with anyone. So… he didn’t feel like a pervert for utilizing the anatomical drawing of a woman’s body for masturbatory purposes. If he wouldn’t pursue anything real, this seemed more efficient than wasting his time daydreaming about physical touch and a certain someone’s attention. With one hand on the book and the other wrapped around his cock, he quickly worked himself to completion and that was that.

Unfortunately, the release didn’t bring him any pleasure. His orgasm only felt like a momentary distraction from the angry thing he’d awoken. Now he blindly seeks a sense of relief that he can’t seem to get his hands on because he doesn’t know what he’s searching for. For days, he thought about the damned book and the terms for various parts of a woman’s anatomy. He thought about their function and how it was more than likely that a woman could find herself in the exact predicament he was trapped in. Task after nonsensical task was performed for Lorroakan and all he could think about was the book hidden beneath its proper shelf and the way he wished he could somehow enchant it so the diagrams would be in color.

After a particularly brutal “lesson” that involved his naked back and a shock of lightning, he stole away to find his recent obsession. While lost in his thoughts, eyes tightly shut and a desperate fist working himself over, he proceeded to ruin the book with an errant splatter of his release. Once the first rope stained the pages, he didn’t care to lessen the blow. He was bitter with his master, bitter with his newfound curiosity that only grew in size. The hunger crept into him only because of weakness— He was a failure in too many ways and so Rolan felt justified in coating the diagrams with everything he had. Shame was far from him when he closed the soaked book to shelve it back into place.

That should’ve been the end of things, he wished more than anything to smother the awful birth of late blooming desire but the damned thing refused to simmer down and die. You kept that from happening. You left him with no choice but to use the promise of self-release as a coping mechanism. He’s always been an impetuous ass and he’s never felt the need to find any distaste in accepting the fact. He’s impulsive but Rolan felt he was too smart to asphyxiate on any lasting consequences. Rubbing himself raw was a byproduct of everything else wrong in his life. Why should he worry about consequences when you’ll be there to save him from whatever circumstance? He wanted to drink himself to death in Last Light Inn, but you wouldn’t let him. So he ran headfirst into the shadows, figuring that he’d either save his siblings or die trying and you apparated from the darkness to rob him of the martyrdom he aimed for. You took everything from him, smothered his pride, and strangled his ego as if his wants and needs meant nothing to you. You’re in his head, you’ve stolen all of his impulsivity and alchemically perverted it so that it all revolves around you.

And he can't hate you for it because you’ve destroyed his previous definition of hate.

He can’t drink in self-pity because he thinks of you and the disappointment on your features when you found him completely pissed and slurring his words. You told those little devils to stop serving him and shooed them away as if you were his mother. If he goes past his limits, all he can think of is your annoying face all screwed up in pity. Eyes soft, voice gentle. You’d probably let him rest his head on your lap only for him to vomit on your thighs. He can’t imagine you shouting at him even if he was to soak your clothes in wine and stomach acid and he hates you for it. You’d pet him with the gentleness you might administer to someone on their deathbed and ask in that awful pitying tone of yours if he felt any better.

He can't drink without thinking of you. He can't touch himself without obsessing over you. You’re the horrible reason he started this habit in the first place. He can’t even bare his flesh for his master to abuse without thinking of your gods' awful pity either.

“Are you alright?” Must be the majority of all the words you’ve ever said to him and he imagines you finding him like this, shoulders sagging as if too heavy for his spine with his hand shoved into his breeches. Sharp teeth sink into his lip and he tries to envision himself through your perspective. To you, he must look like a miserable excuse for a tiefling, and an even worse example of a man. He feels soggy, bogged down by the weight of his failures. The only aspect of his species that he displays is his pride and right now, such a concept is far away from where he usually keeps it. The mask of confidence is replaced with a whimpery fat-lipped need to feel anything besides the desire for self-flagellation, and he shudders in disgust while imagining you looking at him, pretty mouth held open for a moment while searching for the words to say.

“Does it hurt?” You’d ask carefully because you’re aware of how easily he finds the audacity to snip at you.

He doesn’t know if you’re asking about the bruises or the awkward way he strokes his cock. You wouldn’t ask him if he needed help, nor would you be shy about closing the distance between your body and his to take charge of the situation. You’d use your thumb and forefinger to pick up his chin and he’d look up at you, unburdened by the undead desperation that plagues his body. In his fantasy, he doesn't think about the complicated feelings he harbors for you, instead, he submits to the determination in your gaze.

In real life, he’d fumble his way through such an occurrence and ultimately be left racking his brain for an apology which he doesn’t know how to say. He doesn’t know how or when to shut up, he’d never let you take charge of him even while painfully aware that you’d figure out a miraculous way to make him feel better. He’d disappoint you and embarrass himself into the binds of a torture chamber of his own design. Even now, just squeezing himself over his clothes, he struggles to quell the gut punch of an orgasm that wants to swallow him whole. He wouldn’t last through your touch, he can’t imagine kissing you because on principle, he can’t entertain such a ridiculous thought. Not only is the concept too embarrassing to hope for, but he wouldn’t know what to do. He’d accidentally cut your soft human lips with his teeth. He’d say something idiotic and you’d slap him right in the face. Perhaps you’d find his body heat too estranged from yours, maybe you’d find his features too odd. Perhaps his shaking breath would betray the way he wants you to see him. Perhaps he’d pass out from all the blood rushing to engorge his cock and then he’d crack his head open on the ground.

Too aware of himself, he thinks that he’d try to kiss you like the muscled heroes in trashy books and he’d somehow manage to poke your eye out with a horn. Analyzing every possible outcome has led Rolan to believe that anything he could try would end up in complete failure. He’s… resilient, but his recent track record displays failure after hard-headed failure. To allow himself a proper delusion where he's able to touch and fuck you without envisioning tail curling embarrassment, he feels as if he needs to give you a reason to see him as anything other than a pathetic dog. He limps as he walks, his tail’s tucked between his legs and he’d bite you if your hand got too close. Why would you ever look down at that with anything besides disgust or pity? If you were to force his door open right now, he’d drench the inside of his pants with cum and before he was able to catch his breath, he’d find a way to make an ass of himself because when it comes to you, he’s mastered the art of behaving like a pompous prick.

You’d never want this… and he’d never be able to charm his way into being passably desirable. It would only add another foot of dirt atop his grave if he finally found the nerve to do something about the complicated basket of feelings he keeps on hand, only for you to reject him outright. He’d never find the right things to say so that this could have a squalid chance of poking its head into reality.

Still, he thinks about your hands sliding down his chest, slowly mapping out the shape of his body as if you intended to remember it. Humans are so soft, his skin is thicker than yours, his chest is ridged and he wonders if such a difference would be pleasurable or painful. Imagining your naked breasts, nipples pressed against his textured skin as he explores your soft curves with his hands makes a gritty moan fall from his lips. He would never be yours, nor would he ever know the pleasure of knowing your body— but he could pretend. He could convince himself that if the stars aligned once he sacrificed his soul, maybe he could have one night with you. A few hours would be sufficient enough for a lifetime of longing. A single kiss, a moment of your time would be enough fuel to help him mentally leap over everything that kept him up at night.

He wishes you really were a devil. The temptation, the need for you would finally respect the concept of reason. If he were to give you his soul, then at least you’d be bound contractually to give him anything he asked for. In all the stories, the seduction of such a being is inevitable. Even the strongest people succumb eventually. The prelude to his demise would drain his soul out of his balls and he’d finish without the disgust that usually rose after he figured out how to think again. In the sticky aftermath, he could say whatever drivel that would fall out of his mouth and you’d take it with an entertained eye-roll. Nothing he could do or say would matter if you had his name neatly signed at the bottom of a horrendously unfair contract. It would be a good deal on your end, you already have him weak and dependent on you so you could do wonders with the usage of his soul. Wanting you would be so much easier if you owned him. He couldn’t hate you or himself if he had no choice but to obsess over you. He wouldn’t chase away your constant presence in his thoughts if he’d given his mind away, completely at peace to let it rot in your greedy hands.

The bed creaks under Rolan’s weight as he finally lays down with a bratty huff. He buries his face into the mattress with his eyes tightly shut as if that would keep him from hating the desperate way he claws for his pillow. He already knows that his hand won’t suffice, he’s already bunny fucking the mattress, hopelessly grinding himself against the solid mass, wishing he could bore a hole into it without anyone discovering his shame. His breeches barely escape his ire when struggling with the ties takes a moment too long. They’re shoved down with a growl and his pillow is folded in half to then be shoved beneath his hips. With his thoughts soaked self-admonition, he finds enough of an in to slot his cock into the plush crease of his folded pillow. Nothing about it feels right, it’s loose and dry but he whimpers with the idea of what it represents.

Thankfully his rushing thoughts are a potent enough concoction to mask the way his mind struggles to imagine thrusting into you. He can’t think anymore, he’s so hard that it hurts and all he wants to do is thrust into the cushy relief of his pillow, panting into his mattress while obsessing over vague ideas of what your body would feel like.

You’re always so attuned to his well-being. Always so eager to offer your help. If he told you that the only thing he wants from you is to fuck you until he can’t think anymore, would you graciously bend over the nearest surface and offer your pretty cunt? The diagram painted such a vivid idea of what you’d look like. Apparently, your cunt swells similarly to his cock when aroused and he imagines the offering of a swollen flower, petals engorged with need and the dripping center of it drooling steadily in anticipation. You’d be so inexplicably soft. Humans are a ridiculous species, and he wasn’t immune to the inherent curiosity he holds for your kind. With zero real-life experience to go on, he believes that humans have heavier breasts. He thinks that fat settles differently on your species’ bodies and there just seems to be more to grab and hold onto. You’re tailless and he wonders if that might make it easier to drive deeper into your body if you were positioned on all fours. Lust soaked daydreams of hips and thighs torment him daily. He’s much larger than the four inches of your body’s comfortable limits (a fact provided to him by the anatomy book), and Rolan wonders if you’d be able to handle the intrusion of his cock.

According to the tiny font of raunchy, cheaply printed novelettes, it would be a tight fit but you’d eventually be shouting his name in place of any god you pray to. He imagines you reaching for his ass, your legs locked around his hips and you do your best to hold him deeply inside of you, wet heat begging him to remain buried in your depths. Women can orgasm contrary to popular belief, and aided by the combination of educational journals, books on body function, and a few trashy epics, he’s decided that at least once in his life, he’ll make a woman come for the sheer sake of curiosity. With you, he’d make you come as often as physically possible, but if he can’t have you he thinks that just once with someone else will be enough to quench the intrigue.

Gritting his teeth, he jerkily thrusts and grinds into his pillow. The bulbous base of his cock is painfully swollen and he closes his fist tightly around it, squeezing hard and wishing for the tight clasp of your body. He’d seal you up and pump you so full of come that you’d forget every sorry state you’ve ever found him in. The looming understanding that satisfaction will remain at an atrocious distance forces his hips into a frenzy, too stubborn to admit defeat. Rolan hisses in frustration due to the sorry pillow that doesn’t offer nearly as much friction as he needs. The needy mouth of your cunt would be so much tighter, so much wetter than this awful thing. You’d take him with a gasp of shock, surprised by the heat of his turgid cock as he encases himself inch by inch into all of that softness he imagines. The underside of his cock is ridged similarly to the rest of him, and according to the anatomy book, he differs in other ways as well. Would the shape of him shock you? Would your tight little cunt spasm around him as if in awe of the pleasure he brings? In the few dirty stories he’s discovered over the years, human women adore his kind. Blunt-headed human cocks pale in comparison to a tiefling’s. Filled to the brim, your eyes would roll back and you’d ask him to please fuck you. Would you tell him that he’s ruined you for all other men and you’ll need him from now on to satiate yourself? Rolan's delirious thoughts decide yes, those are definitely things you’d say.

More likely, you’d give yourself over with that teasing, snooty look of yours, all too aware that he needs you because you’ve learned how to read him like a book. He’d take you although the acquisition would feel more like blind surrender. You once asked if he intended to thank you for your efforts and he imagines you asking him to thank you for the privilege of just the sight of you. You’d spread your cheeks, exposing the vexing pink blush of your folds and he’d have no choice but to fall to his knees before you. He’d fucking crawl if you’d let him just breathe in the scent of your cunt. Even now, he feels light-headed and caught between too many contradictory points. His heart is wedged in his throat, his lungs feel strained and he swallows dryly while imagining what it would be like to drag his tongue between your folds.

Rolan curls in on himself and uses the heel of his palm to press against the pillow, desperate for more friction. Caught on a new train of thought, he pants open-mouthed, tongue painfully dry while imagining your legs spread over his face. He’s thirsty, he’s half alive and the short distance between your body and his mouth feels like torture. You bossily direct him to speak his adoration into your cunt and before he can promise that he will, you proceed to cover his ears with your soft thighs. You’ll call him a golden boy like you did when telling him that he shouldn’t leave the grove alone. Instead of telling him that his apprenticeship doesn’t make him some sort of golden boy, the term is given to him as a pet name. You like his eyes, you like his tongue and the way he’ll die before disappointing you again. You’ll reach for his horns, forcing his head up so you can grind against his mouth, and his tongue moves in untrained flat strokes because he doesn’t know what you like. He envisions fucking you on his tongue, thrusting it into your heat with the intent of worshipping the hidden sanctuary of your cunt. Your reward for his resignation, for finally giving you the thanks you deserve tastes like the safety he longs for and he feels at home with you above him.

In the present, his tail thumps against the mattress, and the pointed tip flicks in agitation as something final settles in his bones. This realization has been building in ferocity long before he began violating his pillow and he rubs his cheek against the mattress, breathing hard with the back of his throat feeling inflamed. The moan forced out of him crackles, his ragged breath sets it alight and the fiery resignation is executed through a blubbering whimper. Rolan’s hips punch forward as if trying to punish the pillow for its current form, he thinks that it should be you. He should be in your arms, he should be driving his pitifully sensitive cock against your skin, and he’d beg for the privilege of fucking your thighs because he can't bear the idea of disappointing your cunt with his ultimately early release. This should be an act of supplication. You’ve won. He’s at your mercy. He needs you, he needs you. You’ll save him from his pride once again and he’ll finally find the words necessary to declare to you what an ass he’s been.

As if his body was politely waiting for the mental submission, his spine straightens, and cum shoots from the head of his prick before he’s fully realized the impending threat of his orgasm. Reduced to sensation alone, Rolan rumbles out a long groan as he fucks a deluge of cum into his pillow. All he can do is thrash against the violence of his every sense expelling from his body in the form of viscous white sludge. His mouth hangs open stupidly as his frenzied thrusts soon dispel into non-movement. When it’s all over, he takes a long, slow breath and he’s surprised to discover that doesn't feel the pressing need to clean up his shame before hatred can find its way back into place. Right now, his wounds don’t exist, neither does his anxiety. His pride’s already fucked off to another plane and Rolan hopes it’ll take an extended holiday. He wants to confront you without it for the first time since you forced your way into his life.

Determined, his ego picks the pieces of itself from the ground as Rolan grinds his softening cock into the now cool mess of his release. He thinks that such a tribute has to be well received. With no experience with women, people, or conversations and social normality— Rolan has high hopes that the next inevitable run-in with you will end on a pleasant note. Of course, nothing of his fantasies will be realized, —he’ll hold those thoughts in the dreary prison he keeps them in—, but he’s resolute to to let you in on the secret respect he’s reserved for you.

You mean a great deal to him, and he hopes to let you know as such.

Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts! I'm sorry I made you read the word turgid, I thought it was funny and refused to edit it out lol.

[audreyscribes]

Ω PJO MISCELLANEOUS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: 🍃 ZEPHYROS: GOD OF THE WEST WINDS, PERSONIFICATION OF THE GENTLE WEST WIND AND SPRING. 🌷

A/n: Another Popular minor god let's go! Zephryos or Zephryus will always pop up like a random but welcome breeze, so it was only fitting to do a demigod imagine on him. Also either I'm not looking in the right direction or I see a lack of Zephryus demigods. No idea if he would make a good godly dadza. Now to see if anyone picks up the references I've put in from another fandom. MISCELLANEOUS DEMIGOD H/CS MASTERLIST LINK: [TUMBLR] || [AO3]

If you’ve ever heard of “Spring is in the air”, there is no better term used for Zephyros because that essentially sums up his entire existence. This also applies to you every time you make an appearance. Whether you bring love in the air or smell like flowery perfume (the good kind that brings you ease and happiness), it ranges a bit.

When you get claimed, you can hear the singing of swans as the wind blew gently from the west, carrying the smell of Spring almost like a herald…even if it’s not even Spring anymore. Unironically, your claim in Camp Halfblood takes place at Zephyros Creek…the creek that is literally named after him that runs through the entire forest.

As one of the more popular, minor gods, your presence as a demigod and your powers are also notable…which isn’t as much of a problem if it wasn’t much of a learning curve. Unlike where it’s pretty simple for the major gods where it makes relative sense of their domains and concepts, for Zephyros it’s less on the nose and requires some actual studying; from the winds, horses, spring, love, and etc.

As a child of Zephyros, you obviously have the power of the winds at your command. However, he is also technically a god of springtime, you also have the power to grow and manipulate plants, though not as much as the child of Demeter. Makes sense if you think of the wind carrying the pollen, helping the growth of flowers and the Spring wind heralds the changing of the seasons from Winter. If you’re at Camp between the seasons of Winter and Spring, you’ll find yourself in the company of the children of Demeter. A welcome change from growing decorative gourd to strawberries.

What no one tells you at first, despite being a god of the winds, you expect to have some connection to birds like the Swans from earlier, you learn you also have a connection with horses; as Zephyros has turn into a horse and had pulled Zeus’ chariot with his brothers against Typhon. So Pegasus flying is almost like second nature to you but slightly left field. Good thing you have the children of Poseidon because you two can gossip and complain with the pegasus…though why is that you feel a certain draw to certain pegasus…?

You also find yourself being drawn to and from the children of Iris; where you learn that Iris told them to make you feel welcome and extends you an invitation to drop by her Organic shop anytime, the children of Apollo surprisingly; once everyone got over the fact about their parents’ thing over Hyacinth, they welcomed you greatly and especially appreciated you spirit over any injured patients over or simply growing some well-need plants at that moment. Plus, every so often, you all get together to have a small music break and not surprisingly, you find yourself gifted at wind instruments.

You also meet Lester or a.k.a. Apollo as well around this time. He welcomes you as much as he can and while you appreciated the gesture, you knew he carried guilt and awkwardness towards you, forcing himself to show you that he had no qualms and in extension, show Zephyros that he regretted blaming your godly father for Hyacinth's death and to show he wouldn’t be petty and harm his own kid; even if he knew that received help during his own powerless moment. Luckily for you and him, Zephryos written a letter for Apollo that you gave to him, explicitly stating that Zephyros that was sorry as well and forgave Apollo long ago. You find yourself having another father figure in your life through Apollo, who constantly invites you to his and his children’s activities.

You find yourself being in the company of the children of Aphrodite. Zephryos famously has a connection being in the service of Eros, bringing Spring (i.e. romance) in the air, but there’s also his and Iris’ son; Pothos, the God of Sexual Longing, Yearning, and Desire, who is also an attendant of Aphrodite. So whether or not you have a particular interest in romance or whatever, the children of Aphrodite are more likely to share their secrets and gossip with you and even help you from time to time. Or you’re going to be the one spreading those juicy gossip and spilling the tea to the people of the Aphrodite cabin (and those who feel so inclined) about So and So being seen together while holding hands.

You quickly figure out that Zephyros is rather well-known around Camp, outside of his presence in Greek Mythos, as you find out that from Annabeth, like her, a lot of them were brought to their mortal parents from their godly parents by Zephyros. Somewhere down the line, you find yourself able to find out whose unclaimed demigods’ parentage is because Zephyros touch lingers on them, leaving you in a dilemma if you’re allowed to say it.

In terms of physical attributes inherited from your father, this is what’s going to be a nightmare for you. At first you thought you might inherit wings because Zephyros is often depicted with wings, but if your claiming doesn’t trigger it, then you might not have wings at all. Though this is not a problem with flying as you can manipulate the wind to help you fly. No, what’s a nightmare is that Chiron sat you down and told you that you might be able to turn into a horse because Zephyros has been known to turn into a horse, so you may be able to turn into that…but what really threw you in a loop is that you may possess the characteristics of a tiger because he’s also the sire of Tigers. So Tiger, Horses, and Birds oh my! good luck with that!

On the other hand, you’re going to have an animal companion; whether its a tiger, horse, or birds; though usually swans but not limited to it. Afterall, pegasus are considered horses too; so there’s that. For all you could know, you may have crows as your companion(s); though they’re a rather chatty bunch so you are probably going to call them as Chat. Or Bryan- for that one crow that can speak rather human like. 

Everyone stared at you with open gaped mouths as the claim of Zephryos floated above your head. The swans were singing and flapping their wings in Zephyros creek. The wind gently blew from the West as if Zephyros was gently running his hand over your hair, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. There was a waft of floral scent also coming from the West, and it smelled familiar to you. 

Everyone was staring at you with a range of awe, surprise, and absolute recognition. The weight of the stares was starting to make you awkwardly hot and uncomfortable. Silence gradually filled in when the swan singing started to fade off into the distance, only the wind swaying of the trees with the sound of the water running through the creek. It was then you remembered that you had the flag in hand, the fabric flapping in the wind earlier like some epic painting when you reached the goal. It was a whirlwind of events when you felt yourself flying, your feet carrying you like you were absolutely nothing. At first you thought you were definitely a child of Hermes, with your feet running like you had wings on your feet but then when you were getting pincered from all sides. You were cut off by the enemy side and the only exit was a cliff and the next thing you knew you jumped off the cliff in a run, and as you fell, panic hit you as you realized you couldn’t land safely and the creek wasn’t that deep to sustain your fall. 

It was at that moment the wind blew from the West and swirled around you, carrying off into safety into the waters. You botched the landing and did a couple stumble but you took that then going SPLAT.

You wondered if you should say anything when people weren’t really moving, whispering amongst themselves, until you heard a whistle that came off rather musically impressed and then a clap of rhythm. Your eyes turned to the source to see a boy with brown hair and eyes but when the sunlight filtered through the gap of the branches, you swore you saw blue instead. 

“Well, certainly Zephyros knows how to make an entrance, not that I wouldn’t do either of course” said the boy and you heard that one child of Demeter with a temper scoff. “I think we can say Capture the Flag is over right Chiron?”

The centaur shook out of his stupor and cleared his throat, regaining his composure. “Yes, that would seem to be the case” he said before he turned to the other campers to say that Capture the Flag was now over and your team cheered in victory. 

You were rushed over by your teammates for securing the win and congrats on being claimed. You thanked profusely, still not sure who claimed you until you saw the boy from earlier, that your brain hazily remembered as some from the Apollo cabin. 

“Well I never expected to see a child of Zephryos to appear, much less when I’m at camp. I guess there’s no real bad blood anymore if he’s open to claiming his kid in front of me.”

“Uh, wait Zephryos? He’s my dad? But isn’t he the god of the West wind-”

“Yes, Zephryos, God of the West Wind as well as the personification of it and a god of Spring you can say” he said, before gently gesturing you out of the water and that’s when you realize your shoes and socks were absolutely soaked and very uncomfortable as they squished with every movement. 

“I don’t think he would have a demigod” you admitted. 

“Well, Zephryos and I were both interested in a lovely human man named Hycanith, though he got jealous that Hycanith accepted me as a lover. It’s a long story but it seems like he had moved on some time to have you” smiled the stranger. 

“Wait, I remember that story…but you? The story had Apollo-” you started to say but you cut off your words when it hit you. You turned to the stranger beside you and now you could feel it.  “Ah yes, it’s a rather long story but I’m in my mortal form. Here, I’m called Lester Papadopoulos but those who know, know me as Apollo.”

[cuubism]

Ooh, what about dream being soft around kids/animals and Hob just having heart eyes

STRONG headcanon that Dream is way better with kids than he is with adults. (Dream is terrible with adults so low bar but). Kids are more natural dreamers who haven't been totally disabused by the reality of the world yet. He understands how their minds work. He does not understand how logical thought patterns work.

Running into some kids somewhere, maybe they go to one of Hob's friends' weddings or something, and Hob internally is like "oh no this is gonna be bad, their energy is going to be too much for him to handle" and then he turns away for one sec to talk to someone and when he turns back Dream is sitting on the floor with the eight year olds engaged in an elaborate game of stuffed animal mutiny. Hob's like do you wanna join our conversation or...? And Dream's like no Hob, can't you see we're at war here? We're in the middle of overthrowing evil Princess Pegasus. Honestly.

He spends the entire event like that and all the parents love him because he's entertained the children for three straight hours but from Dream's perspective he owes the children a boon for letting him get out of socializing. They will all have good dreams that night.

[bat2pony]

Do I have a RANT for you all.

I just finished watching S8 E16, “Friendship University” and the entire thing seems kind of silly to me! First of all, I was really hoping that Flim and Flam would actually aim to do better after they began running the resort in Las Pegasus. But at the same time, cons have been their thing their entire lives so it’s kind of refreshing to see people who aren’t particularly evil, they’re just kind shit and annoying as hell. But moreover, why would ANYONE, pony or otherwise, want to attend their school?

Excessive rant ⬇️

Obviously Flim and Flam are professional con artists and they did make a few good points. The legendary Starswirl the Bearded was attending their school (and using his studying as “motivation” or whatever for other students) and the school was located in a bustling city, Las Pegasus, with more opportunities than the small town that is Ponyville. This school was also accredited.

But even so!!! Twilight is the Princess of Friendship. She is an alicorn. ROYALTY. Not only is she Head Mare of her school, but it was endorsed by Princess Celestia, the ruler of Equestria. On top of this, the professors at her school are the other 5 of the mane 6. The school is literally ran and managed by the group of friends who saved equestrian MULTIPLE times. They published their friendship journal that got spread all throughout the lands. The school is wildly successful! Why would anyone ever choose Flim and Flam’s school when they could be taught under the literal Princess of friendship? Please make it make sense. I just think it’s silly. Anyway.

On a similar note, I think other schools of friendship across the lands isn’t such a bad idea! It would make spreading the magic of friendship a lot easier and the education more accessible to all kinds of creatures! I think it would be cool if this was an idea further explored in the series.

[inbabylontheywept]

Burning Bridges

“I am Kalrose, commander of the Second Armada of the Akaviri. We are on our way to a peacekeeping operation in the Pegasus cluster. Humanity is not our enemy, but it will be if you continue to detain us in your piss puddle agrarian star system. Step away from the FTL launcher and no one will die. Remain in front and we will plow through your craft. Either way you will not stop us.”

The human freighter acting as a makeshift gate in front of the launcher did not move. If anything, it centered itself more, in order to better face the Akaviri flagship head on.

Then it broadcasted back.

“Your ‘peacekeeping mission’ in the Pegasus cluster is a genocide. We will not stand back and let you commit this atrocity. We may not have the men or the ships to destroy your fleet, but we don’t need to destroy your fleet in order to keep you from reaching the battlefield. Our piss puddle’s name is ‘Zion.’ In time, you will call it ‘Home.’”

Kalrose barely had time to ponder the nature of that threat when the launcher fired up. The EM readings on his ship went mad, and in that brief fraction of a second, he realized he’d miscalculated. Gravely.

He didn’t know how many thousands of safety protocols had been bypassed, but the amount of power flowing to the gravitational core in the center of the launcher was easily nine times larger than the maximum rating. A micro singularity formed within the space lens, and cladding ripped itself off the hull before spiraling at near light speeds around the artificial black hole.

Kalrose had always imagined such a catastrophe as something like a fireball, reds and oranges, lots of shrapnel and clanging. Upon seeing it in person, he realized how foolish that was.

Red glows were for pokers left in hot coals. This was, for one brief moment, a star fueled on steel. It was never going to be orange.

It could only be white.

The accretion disk condensed further, the energy of the reactions happening near it somehow fueling the gravitational anomaly at the center. His comm system moved into a death scream as the material’s blackbody radiation moved past the x-ray spectrum, pure friction converting the material to energy more efficiently than even a fusion reactor could manage. The heat generated finally caused a full structural collapse, the spine of the station melting enough to wrap the whole barrel of the launcher around the spiraling singularity, twirling it in loops like thread around a spool. The reaction was accelerating now, even without electricity being able to fuel the gravitational collapse, the radiation pressure alone managing to hold the system in a highly fragile state of tensegrity. He recognized the feedback loop that was happening, radiation fueling gravity, gravity fueling radiation, on and on until-

There was no air for noise in space, but he could almost imagine the roar that the expanding cloud of ionized metal should have made as it blew past. There it was. The end of the loop. It had run out of matter to feed on, so without a balance to the compressive force it expanded outwards.

He was fortunate that the explosion was violent enough to atomize the particles. Even a fragment the size of a grain of sand would’ve been enough to take down his flagship. As a lone ion, it could be deflected by the same magnetic field that kept the crew safe during FTL jumps.

He stared numbly at the monitor.

One third of the Akaviri fleet, stranded in a farming system. Not even a shot fired.

He realized that the comm system’s scream had been replaced with the quiet pulse of an incoming broadcast. He accepted it without question, too lost to even be angry.

“Take your time recovering your senses. When you’re ready, just send us a message back. We’re going to need every hand we can on the harvest. There’s no one out there we can reach for help after this. It’s just...Us.”

[chainbakery]

Reader steals Legends cap. Please

note: here you go, i hope you like it! gn! reader, fluff, can be seen as platonic or romantic.

Walking, fighting monsters, healing, going through another of those strange portals, and more walking. Day after day, with barely any chance to rest. It was getting boring.

The most chaotic guys from the group decided that, to deal with this boredom, it was better to prank the others from time to time until you found the next destination, as Twilight, Time and Warriors were making sure they didn’t separate to explore this era.

Their pranks brought you a few laughs, Wild shared some weird masks in the shape of monsters you had found during the journey and others you didn’t recognize to bother Warriors.

You wanted to join, do something to entertain yourself. And then, your eyes found the perfect target.

Legend’s hat seemed a bit looser than usual, barely keeping itself on his head, and he was distracted talking with Hyrule about how many potions were left between all of you.

Slowly, very slowly, you matched your footsteps with his, a hand reaching to touch the fabric of his blue cap with your fingertips. A soft pull was enough for it to be yours.

Looking back to both heroes in front of you to see if your target had noticed, your eyes found the traveler’s. You brought a finger to your lips, asking him to keep quiet with a grin that he shared for a second before acting like he didn’t see anything.

Falling a few steps behind him, you put the blue cap on top of your head, making sure it wouldn’t fall. Now, all you had to do was wait.

“We have enough potions if we get into another battle, as long as a certain someone isn’t as reckless as last time, but we should buy more if we find a village around here.” The blond looked at the champion that was walking in front of him, who looked back to answer with a shameless grin, and a chuckle followed for a reason Legend didn’t know.

Wind tilted his head, looking at the same direction as the older hero. His eyes focused on top of the veteran’s head, then on you from behind his shoulder, proudly wearing the blue fabric that belonged to someone else. He snorted.

“What? Something funny?” Legend crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow.

“No, nothing!” The sailor smiled at you before turning away.

It only took the hoarder a few minutes to notice that something was missing, as the breeze messed with his hair that should’ve been hidden inside his beloved cap.

“Wha- Where?” His hand quickly went to his head, confirming the missing possession.

Legend looked to both sides, catching the look Hyrule was sending to something behind him and following his eyes to find your playful grin.

A blue fabric caught his eyes next.

He stopped walking, forcing you to do the same to avoid crashing against him. The three others aware of the situation told the rest to leave you be, as the two of you would catch up soon enough.

“Ha-ha, aren’t you hilarious.” His voice dripped with sarcasm, but you didn’t see any anger in his eyes. “Now, give it back.” Your hands flew to protect the stolen cap.

“It’s mine now.”

“It isn’t, give it back.”

You looked at the hand that was waiting for his blue cap, then his eyes. You grinned and prepared yourself.

“Then, catch me!” You took off, running as fast as you could with a hand securing the hat to your head.

“Come back here, you thief!” Legend couldn’t contain the slight amusement in his voice as he chased you around.

The two of you were careful enough to not run too far away from the group, but it lasted for quite some time before the veteran finally got his possession back.

“Go bother the captain next time, I don’t have time for your games.” He huffed, placing his cap on his head, where it belonged.

“You don’t? Then why didn’t you use your pegasus boots?”

“Shut up.”

[burningupp]

nine: searching

tw: panic attack! pls don’t read if it triggers you, your mental health very obviously has priority over my stories <3

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He had no clue where to even look. Music shows generally took place in very large buildings, and those buildings had a lot of windows in a lot of places, as Hyunjin came to find out. He didn’t really know why he was looking for his makeup artist so frantically - sure, she had looked sad, but there was a deep panic spreading through all his limbs which didn’t really make sense.

How had Chan seemed so calm when Y/n walked out? The poor girl was shaking, teary, and it sounded as if she could barely breathe. She was supposed to be one of Chan’s best friends, so how could he just ignore it like that? The distress of a friend had never been something Hyunjin was able to take lightly; not that his makeup artist truly counted as a friend in his case.

He couldn’t ask people who worked in the building if they had seen her for fear of rumors spreading about him dating someone, so he was left with the option of running around the maze-like corridors like a headless chicken. As soon as he spotted a window without anyone sitting by it, he would do a 180 and run back the way he came. He most likely looked insane.

Y/n’s teary eyes kept flashing in his mind, and it made him more and more frantic as time went on. He was climbing stairs three steps at a time, which most likely would result in an injury if he didn’t calm down, but he didn’t care. He was on the eighth floor, panting and sweating like a dog, and if he couldn’t find her here he was going to call the police. She was a small woman, sure, but she couldn’t hide this well, could she?

And then, just when he was losing hope and thinking about how to explain to the police that he was panicking because his makeup artist had been missing for exactly 23 minutes, he found her. She was curled into a ball under a window, holding the sides of her head and heaving like she had just ran a marathon. Honestly, he practically had and he wasn’t panting that badly.

“Hey…” he said softly, and though her body hadn’t exactly been relaxed when he arrived, it tensed up further at the sound of his voice.

The look she sent him broke his heart into a million tiny pieces. She looked afraid, like he was going to yell at her and hurt her and Hyunjin had never hated himself more than he did in that moment. The way she was gasping for breath sounded almost inhuman, and he wondered how she even made it that far if she was in such a horrible state.

He wanted to do anything to help, but he had never struggled with anxiety to this degree and he had no idea what would make things worse or better. Even though Jisung has had issues with anxiety, he never went that deep into it with most of the members and Hyunjin had certainly not wanted to push.

It felt awkward to just stand there and stare at someone who was very clearly in distress. So, testing the waters, he took a gentle step towards the hyperventilating woman in the corner. She shrunk in on herself as well as she could, and he sunk into a squat, still a few steps away from her.

“Y/n?” he said gently, and was met with nothing but continued gasps for air that seemed like it would never reach her lungs. He waited a few seconds. “Can I sit next to you? I-I promise I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to, but I figured you wouldn’t want to be… alone.”

Again, nothing but heaving gasps, but she didn’t react or tense up in any way when he stepped closer, so Hyunjin took a seat a foot or so away from her. He rested his head against the wall, his legs crossed and silently watching Y/n struggle.

He hated it. He hated himself for upsetting her, for making her uncomfortable, for being such a judgemental baby, and most of all for never having paid attention to what people needed while having panic attacks. He didn’t know much, but at least he knew that’s what this was. Panic.

“Do you-” at his words the woman tensed up again, so Hyunjin fell silent. Then he decided that it was okay, that maybe if he said the right thing, she would feel better. He took a deep breath. “I’m not very good with this whole thing,” he started. “I’ve never really experienced a situation like this. Jisung had some issues with anxiety, but I’m sure you knew that already. He never came to me with it, though. He mostly went to Felix and Chan hyung.”

Y/n said nothing, just kept gulping down whatever oxygen she could - way too fast, Hyunjin knew, and he was surprised she hadn’t passed out yet. Glad she hadn’t, but surprised nonetheless. He didn’t know what else to say, and reached out a hand to place on her head. She tensed up and let out a sob-like sound, and Hyunjin pulled his hand away like he had just gotten burned.

He wanted to give her something to focus on other than her apparent panic, but he didn’t know how. He didn’t know if it would work, either, but he figured that to stop panicking she would have to stop thinking about the fact that there was something to panic about. He racked his brain for something to say, something to catch her attention, and came up with absolutely nothing.

Except… She had been able to hear him and at least somewhat process what he was saying, right? So what if he gave her something to listen to? And really, he was a singer, wasn’t he? Well, singer, rapper… whatever he was, his job was giving people all around the world something to listen to.

So, he did what he does best and started to sing. He was singing their latest title track - really, he had to warm up for the performance anyway, right? - for a good thirty seconds before he heard something from the woman next to him.

She was laughing.

She was still breathing heavily, and he most definitely spotted some tears on her cheeks, but she was laughing. Because of him. He stopped singing, and she laughed harder. He was unsure as to what was so funny, but really, he couldn’t bring himself to care about anything other than the fact that she was no longer panicking and he was the reason for that. She could laugh at him all she wanted, as long as she calmed down enough to get her breathing back to normal.

After a minute or two, her breathing started going down enough to be considered at least somewhat normal, and she straightened her back a bit, wiping her tears off her face. Then she looked at Hyunjin and smiled softly, and his stomach moved in a way he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re terrible at helping people when they have a panic attack,” she said jokingly, looking down at her lap where she was picking at her nails.

“I know,” he answered, smiling softly. “It worked though, didn’t it?”

“That it did,” she mumbled, looking back up at him. “I’m sorry for just leaving, I was just not prepared for all those people, and cameras, and-”

For a second, Hyunjin feared that she would work herself up into another panic attack, but she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, grabbing her necklace and fiddling with it. He observed her quietly, wanting to learn anything and everything he could about her habits and moods.

“Anyway, that entire situation was just a lot for me. I’m sorry, it was unprofessional of me and I will do my best to make sure it doesn’t happen again, I promise,” she finally finished.

He blinked at her in disbelief. Why was she apologizing? It wasn’t her fault that she had trouble handling large crowds of people. If she was unprepared for a situation like that, it would obviously be overwhelming and unpleasant, and that wasn’t something she had to apologize for.

“That’s okay,” he said gently, pushing her softly with his elbow. “If you ever need a break, just let me know. I know I’m not Chan hyung, and I don’t know you quite as well as he does, but I still care about you and your comfort.”

At his words, she smiled so brightly he almost felt blinded, and his stomach did that thing again. This time a little more violently. He should probably go to the doctor if it kept up.

“Oh my god,” Y/n suddenly gasped, grabbing Hyunjin’s jaw gingerly and turning his head back and forth a few times. “I have to fix your makeup, Christ. What did you do, run across the entire country?”

“Felt like it,” he joked, grinning impishly.

She suddenly released his jaw, blushing furiously and looking down at her lap again. “I’m so sorry! I should have asked before touching you, I-”

“Hey, it’s okay. You were doing your job.” He assured her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he took it out to see at least twenty text messages and two missed calls from his members. His eyes widened and he turned it to show Y/n, who immediately let out a shriek and shot to her feet.

“Shoot, we have to go fix you up! Let’s go!”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hallway. His arm felt like it was going to be pulled out of its socket, but somehow, he didn’t mind all that much.

[yanderes-galore]

Virus AU Rainbow Dash concept pls?

Sure! Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie actually get infected at the same time, but this is Rainbow's POV.

Previous -> Applejack

Next -> Pinkie Pie

Yandere Virus! Rainbow Dash Concept

(Ft. Pinkie Pie)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Violence, Blood, Body horror, Manipulation, Delusional behavior, Attempted isolation/Abduction, Attempted forced relationship.

By this point in the story, you have three ponies after you.

Twilight, Fluttershy, Applejack...

Now you're running away from Sweet Apple Acres, running for your life.

Before you can pass Sugar Cube Corner, Rainbow catches you.

She was originally spending time with Pinkie Pie, the party pony seeming very nervous lately.

Rainbow Dash is quick to ask you what's wrong.

You keep sputtering, tears brimming from your eyes.

Rainbow grows increasingly concerned for you as her friend and ushers you into Sugar Cube Corner.

You begin to be hesitant due to your luck lately.

Yet Rainbow reassures you you'll be okay, sitting you down as Pinkie hops over to you to check on you too.

Both ponies worry about you, especially since it looks like you've sustained some injuries.

The two have no idea what they're getting themselves into.

Pinkie offers you sweets to make you feel better as Rainbow comforts you.

Both ponies don't experience their obsession until later.

You're insistent on not staying with the two, for some odd reason they don't understand.

So once they know you're okay, the two let you go and part ways.

The thing with Rainbow Dash and Pinkie Pie in this AU is their concepts are heavily intertwined.

Rainbow goes home while Pinkie stays in Sugar Cube Corner.

While the two begin to experience some symptoms, they actually work together for some time.

Why? Well...

Both of them begin to notice Twilight, Fluttershy, and Applejack roaming about...

They can tell something is wrong due to their distorted appearance.

By this point, other ponies begin to hide in their homes.

No pony knows what's going on....

Growing concerned for your well-being, Rainbow and Pinkie vow to each other to find you and protect you.

Rainbow surveys the skies while Pinkie searches the ground.

The virus/curse already urges them to find you anyways.

So, at first both ponies think they want to protect you.

In a way... they do...

But they're just as infected as all the rest.

By the point you see the two again, you can see the signs.

Which causes you to run...

and them to chase.

Rainbow is the faster pony, tackling you to the ground.

You can see her coat and mane are dulled, her ribs showing a bit... blood coats her hooves and her eyes are bloodshot.

The grin she has terrifies you to your core... a familiar twisted sight for you.

"Where ya going!? It's dangerous out here! We should go... I can protect you!"

Your only relief is when Pinkie Pie tackles Rainbow off of you, the party pony thinking Rainbow is harming you due to her own delusions.

It's then you run before the pegasus or earth pony can catch you.

You don't doubt the two will smother you like the others...

So you make a run for a cave, hoping to hide until help arrives...

A temporary relief from the chaos you no doubt caused with Twilight.

[duckprintspress]

Mythical Creature Pride Merch Campaign Updates!

Our Mythical Creature Pride Merch Campaign featuring (currently) six designs of mythical creatures (pegasus, nessie, phoenix, dragon, chimera, and cerberus) in the colors of six pride flags (trans, mlm, wlw, non-binary, bisexual, and asexual flags) has now been running for ten days, and it’s been going awesome – so well that we’re about to add our seventh design, also featuring the artwork of the amazing Pippin Peacock! We crossed our initial funding goal of $3,000 in under 12 hours, and we’re now only $70 from our first stretch goal, which will enable us to create pins and stickers in the colors shared by the agender pride flag and aromantic pride flag: green, white, black, and gray! And the creature for this stretch goal is…

…a Kelpie!! This cutie pie loves to hang out in marshes and swamps but don’t worry, it’s only there to get some alone time in between making friends. Lovely greens help them blend in with the local flora and fauna! (Note: final design pending – this may get tweaked, and we haven’t finished the sticker version yet – this is the enamel pin design)

Also, at the risk of putting our cart before our horse, we’re also only about $1,000 from our second stretch goal, and we’ll start planning it once we’re within about $500 of it (so, once we cross $5,000 in total funding). This to-be-determined critter will be in the colors of the genderqueer pride flag (purple, white and green). I’m really excited what Pippin will come up with when I give them the green light to start designing the next beast.

And, in case you missed it, here are the other six designs…

We’ve also got two of our name-a-beast bundles left, so you haven’t yet missed your chance to name one of these lovelies. Meet Jack Rose the Pegasus and Asha the Phoenix; the Dragon is claimed but remains unnamed, and our fourth beast namer hasn’t picked a beast yet. Nessie, Chimera and Cerberus are left!

So help us spread the word by sharing this post, and even better…

Become a backer and get your mythical creature pride merch now!