#SOBBING CRYING ROLLING ON THE FLOOR IN AGONY

[ranmaru-kageyama]

Vivids solo full covers 🎤🐹

(as always: post might not stay up forever, but feel free to rb!!)

[httpdwaekki]

crampy | k.s.

summary: when your period come suddenly and you have to cancel plans, seungmin is there to help you through the pain.

wc: 1.5k

warnings: descriptions of period cramps, crying, seungmin being a mushy bean for his partner, i think this is p much gn!reader besides the period but please let me know if i missed anything!!

a/n: happy birthday mong mong!! a self indulgent fic but for my favorite puppy <33 i hope you all enjoy, remember to eat, drink water and take your meds, ily <3

my library | fundraiser

(pictures are not mine! credit to owners!)

you didn’t know what else to do.

you’ve tried every trick you could think of but nothing would stop the searing pain in your pelvis. every month without fail you were bed ridden for at least 2 days, curled up in pain, unable to move.

you’re starving with simultaneously no appetite because of the pain. however this time felt worse, this time you were supposed to go out with seungmin and the rest of his members but everytime you moved you were immediately met with pain.

cutting your losses you just curled up with your heating pad and grabbed your phone. you send seungmin a quick text telling him you couldn’t make it and to tell the boys you were sorry.

after that another cramp hit, it felt like someone had grabbed your insides and squeezed as hard as they could. you let out a yelp as the pain only worsened, sobbing out in pure agony.

you were mostly crying because of the pain but you also felt horrible for canceling on your boyfriend and his friends. the pain mixing with the guilt only made you sob harder.

unbeknownst to you, seungmin was on his way to your place, something about your text sounded off. he didn’t know what it was but something in his gut told him he needed to go to you, so he did.

once he opened the door he was met with the sounds of your cries. alarm bells immediately went off in his head as he quickly locked the door, tossing his shoes and bag to the side, running to your room.

he found you curled in a ball, facing the door, eyes closed as heartbreaking sobs leave your mouth. he quickly made his way to your bed, kneeling on the floor in front of you before placing a hand on your shoulder.

you gasp in surprise, eyes wide as they shoot open. “it’s just me, it’s just me, i’m sorry.” he quickly says, holding his hands up in surrender.

once your brain registers the familiar man in front of you, you feel the lump form in your throat once more. your hands come up to cover your face as the tears flow down your cheeks.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry” you sob, your breathing choppy as you speak. “hey, hey,” he says softly, moving your hands with one, gently wiping your tears with the other.

“it’s okay pup, what’s going on hm?” your lip wobbles once again, reminded of the pain. “i- ah!“ you start, just in time for another wave of pain. you curl into yourself, bringing your arm to press the hot pad even further onto your skin.

“okay, i understand bubs,” he moves to sit on your bed, placing one arm over the one on your stomach, the other on your head, softly stroking your forehead. he places a kiss to your temple, shushing you softly, “it’s okay, you’re okay, breathe pup, breathe.”

you take shakey deep breath, exhaling after a few seconds. you both sit there for a while, letting your breath even out before either of you spoke. “i’m sorry.” you whimper, pulling away to look at him.

your bottom lip jutting out as a fresh wave of tears rolls down your face. he places a hand on your cheek, gently brushing away the fresh tears, shushing you. “stop apologizing bub,” he leans down, placing a kiss to your hair. “you have nothing to be sorry for.” you shake your head, new tears following the old.

“i got my period, and it’s really bad and i was trying to suck it up and come i promise but it was really fucking bad seung, it just-“ you were rambling and losing your breath, starting to hyperventilate.

“sh, sh, it’s okay pup, breathe,” he leans back slightly, “scoot over a bit.” he gently requests, making sure the heating pad stayed on your abdomen.

once a little space was created, he slides into your bed, pulling you into him. “okay, my bub, just relax, everything’s okay, no one’s upset, okay?” you sniffle, catching your breath a bit. “promise?” your voice small as you ask.

“i promise, we were all just concerned, and wanted to make sure you were okay.” he reassures, rubbing soothing circles on your back. you nod, turning into his chest, melting into him, just crying for a few minutes until you felt better.

you shift, laying your face against his chest as he continues rubbing your back. “did you take medicine or eat?” you shake your head, drawing figures on his tummy.

“do you have medicine?” you nod your head, pointing to the bathroom. “in the medicine cabinet, second shelf to the left.” he nods, placing a kiss to your head before standing. “i’ll

be quick.” he whispers, quickly making his way to the attached room.

he comes back out holding the familiar bottle, placing it on your bedside table. he pulls out his phone before smoothly moving back to his previous spot. “okay i’m gonna order us some ramen so you can eat and then take some medicine, how does that sound hm?” he asks, already opening his delivery app.

if you had any more tears left you’d be sobbing again but you’re fresh out. instead you nod, placing a kiss to his peck, “thank you pup.” you whisper cuddling back into him.

he smiles looking down at you before placing a kiss to your hair once more. “anything for you bubs.” he goes back to

work, ordering his ramen and your usual before placing his phone down, snuggling into you.

“once the ramen comes and you eat a bit i’ll give you some medicine, but when we finish eating do you wanna sleep or take a bath?” you think about it for a moment before coming to a decision.

“sleep, i’m exhausted.” he nods, rubbing your arm, “okay we can do that, and then if you want a bath when you wake up we can do that too okay?” you nod before turning your head, placing a kiss to this peck.

“thank you baby, i don’t know what i’d do without you.” you wrap your arms around him, wincing as another cramp spreads pain through your body. “ah.” you cry, shoving your face back into his chest.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into him, “okay bubs, i ordered it so hopefully it’ll be here soon and then you can eat take medicine and go to sleep.”

you nod, pressing your face further into him, trying to calm yourself. he starts humming, hoping to put you at ease with his voice. once he feels you relaxing into him he starts singing softly, letting you focus on his voice rather than the pain.

you ended up falling asleep before the food comes, waking up to see a dim light and seungmin bringing in the food. he sets it on the table before looking over seeing you smiling sleepily at him.

“hi bubs, you ready to eat?” he asks as he sits on the bed next to you, carefully brushing your hair out of your face. you nod, sitting up carefully as he prepares your ramen on the table next to your bed.

once you were sitting up, he hands you the bowl, “careful, it’s hot.” you nod, carefully taking the bowl before he grabs a pillow, making sure the heating pad is placed properly before placing the pillow on your lap.

“thank you, bubba.” you smile to him, before he leans down to place a soft kiss to your lips. “you’re welcome, pup.” he says against your lips before sitting down, handing you your chopsticks.

he makes his ramen as well and both of you eat in silence. once finished he grabs your trash putting it in the take out bag it came in, leaving to put it in the trash.

he comes back with two bottles of water, placing them both on the table before opening the bottle of medicine, handing you 2 pills. he places them in your hand, opening one of the waters, handing that to you as you place the pills in your mouth.

you take a gulp of water, swallowing the medicine before taking a couple extra sips before handing the bottle back to him. “thank you.” you whisper, scooting over to give him more room as he places the bottle down.

“you’re welcome, bubs.” he says, leaning over to place a kiss on your head. he quickly gets up to turn off the light before climbing into bed with you. he opens his arms, allowing you to lay against him.

once in his arms, he wraps them around you, kissing your face all over. you giggle as he does this before eventually he stops, not wanting to make your cramps worse. you relax into him, melting further into his embrace.

“is you heating pad okay?” you nod against him, a yawn leaving your lips. “good, sweet dreams pup, i love you.” he whispers, placing one last kiss to your head. “good night bubba, love you too.” you mumble before both of you drift off into each other’s arms.

do not repost or edit

[pastafossa]

DDBA THOUGHTS, FIRST TWO EPS.

It's been roughly 90 minutes and I am still processing, jesus fucking christ.

Set behind a cut due to spoilers but my thoughts are pretty positive, even if that shit ran my heart over like a dump truck. Below you will find:

My frantic reaction thoughts I wrote down during or immediately after (character dissections will be marked)

My overall thoughts on the first 2 eps as a whole

Dissection of Matt and where I think he's at currently in this headspace

Yes that's right, I'm using the sad gif. Spoilers ahead. Feel free to skip down to whichever part you like!

I will have more thoughts tomorrow but I am still feeling fucking weird because I'm trying to process both the new series events and the fact that Our Man is back after 6 years in show format and I feel like someone who's gone from starving to suddenly full of food and my body is CONFUSED

The mood whiplash in the first 15 mins going from, yup we're all happy, to absolute fucking building dread and then horrified agony was, I won't lie, well done. You made me want to vomit, thanks writers.

Spent the whole fight with Bullseye just sobbing and whispering, 'oh no, oh no, oh Foggy, baby, no, Matt, no-', pretty sure some part of me inside is stiiiiiiiiill sobbing, it will always be sobbing, gonna relive that for days 😭

Matt crying on the rooftop? Him being so fucking distraught that all he could do was lean on Dex even though Dex was the killer? Just fucking gut me. Worst we've ever seen him, bar none.

DISSECTION MOMENT: He pushes Dex over the edge. I'd wondered if he'd try to kill Dex, with that being his, 'A Line Was Crossed', and tbh I think if any canon death could make Matt kill, it would be Foggy's. And he certainly tried. Matt's always walked such a fine line when it comes to murder, and he's come VERY close before, usually only dodging it because the baddie gets lucky or we can squint and say they did it to themselves. Welp, here we are again, and this time I think the only reason Dex is alive is because of all that technology we saw them packing into Dex at the end of S3. To Matt? To Matt, he killed. That Dex technically lived is a coincidence. Matt tried to break his rule. He tried.

Yes I am still parked in Denial Hill wondering if Foggy will come around somehow, I need some time to organize my thoughts, but even if he's dead dead, I'm going to wait and see if they pull an Elektra and find some way to revive him.

DISSECTION MOMENT: Matt's new apartment (RIP our beloved old loft cause someone's living there now from what I understand) is nice but something I noticed is it's... a little colder. And I think that's intentional. Matt's old apartment was rougher around the edges, warmer, and I'd argue a little more symbolic both of the Kitchen and who he was each night on the streets. Half the reason he chose that old apartment was the roof access. This new apartment is for a Matt who's trying very hard to be done with Daredevil and live life only as Matt. He's locked away from the streets with no easy way to go running, he's situated high and cool and distant, with all those floors to slow him down if he gets impulsive.

Matt just disassociating his way through his breakfast and morning coffee, yup he's totally fine, definitely not trying to block out all those screams.

DISSECTION MOMENT: EXCUSE ME, CARRYING AROUND FOGGY'S MEMORIAL CARD. 😭 Personal theory is he's not just carrying it to have a little of Foggy with him, but because he's trying to remind himself why he's not being Daredevil anymore since he thinks that doing that got Foggy killed.

Queenpin, good for her.

Really liked the touch of Matt cooking in the dark because he doesn't need light. And I liked the addition of the neon lighting flashing in his windows, a good callout to his old apartment.

I'm also digging both Kirsten and Heather, esp Heather who we get more of. There's chemistry there, and she rolls with Matt pretty well. I'm very interested to see how she handles the Shenanigans TM that I'm sure he'll get up to later. I'd love if he could have a healthy canon relationship for once but this is also matt soooo. And that KISS, damn, when is it my turn

THE DINER SCENE WAS EVERYTHING I NEEDED, THESE TWO ARE SO FUCKING PERFECT IN EVERY SCENE YOU HAVE THEM IN TOGETHER, GD

DISSECTION MOMENT: No but I really do think this is something that would keep Matt out of Hell's Kitchen for a bit as he struggles with his identity, his trauma, his fear, and with the 'costs' of what he does. All that work and he feels like he failed. He couldn't save the one person that mattered most to him. On top of that? He crossed his line. He tried to kill someone and would have succeeded if Dex hadn't been built different. All of that trauma around what happened... yeah I could see him trying to hang the cowl up and move to a new neighborhood in hopes that he'd be able to escape. And he is trying to escape. He's pushing all that down, pushing and pushing and I'm Fine-ing like he has with every previous death in his life, holding up like a good Catholic boy, but the cracks are showing. He's a powder keg.

YET MORE DISSECTION: And holy fucking shit when he blows up does he go. That fight at the end of the 2nd Episode had me feral. Definition of FAFO. I know I've seen some mixed opinions on the opening fight, but that fight at the end of ep 2 is exactly what I wanted, that was perfect. Him begging them to stop because he's trying not to do this, trying not to fight, he's afraid of what he'll do if it gets out, but the second that blood droplet hit the floor (LOVED that shot), you knew that was it, ding ding, Round One. I loved how vicious that fight was, I need to rewatch it 10 TIMES.

That final scream. What's that Matt? You're saying you're not fine? You're not handling this well? Whoever could have predicted that you mashing all that grief and rage down would come out like that, not me it was me though i predicted that.

Intrigued by that Punisher tattoo the dirty cop had on him.

OH MY GOD SHE'S THEIR MARITAL COUNSELOR, GOOD FUCKING LUUUUUCK

Man, Karen just fucking skedaddled and I'm wondering if this isn't because she's going to spiral out in CA like she does in the comics so she comes back having also gone through it (I realize it was because, in reality, they had to explain why she wasn't there because otherwise they'd have to rewrite and reshoot everything, but we're talking in universe here). Karen also has a tendency to run, much like she tries to do in S3. We know she'll be back though.

MY THOUGHTS OVERALL:

So.

(puts hands together and breathes because this was a lot and I'm still processing both the return of our man after 6 years and the show events themselves)

So.

So.

I'm obviously gutted over Foggy, I'll be crying over that for a bit even if I still have a lil hope, and am willing to just fix it in fanfic otherwise. But... I liked this. A lot. It's not exactly the Netflix show, which I'll always be nostalgic for, but quite frankly it was never going to be that show - too much time has passed, and batons have changed hands in terms of writing, directing, cinematography, etc. I'm ok with this being a little different. I'm ok with there being some small humps to get over, cause god knows S2 had its issues too (I love you, OG DD, but it's true). I'm really really optimistic about this.

I do think you can also see some slight tonal shifts between stuff that was salvaged from the original writing arc, and what Scardapane has added in during reshoots. And those moments Scardapane's got control are the best, even if I think they've done pretty damn good during the rest of it considering all the shakeups during production. I'm going to be very interested to see what happens in S2 where you've got a singular creator with consistent control, and I'm very excited for the final two episodes of S1 which are both all under Scardapane's hand. The best part is Matt is still Matt. The dialogue, what he's trying to do, even him pulling a, "that part of my life is over" is very him. His resistance to becoming DD again (though as my dad snorted when we were watching and Matt told Fisk that part of his life was over, 'HA! Horseshit.' Cue dad's smug 'HA! Told you.' During the ep 2 fight) feels... like a natural progression, and Charlie's playing it well.

MY THOUGHTS ON MATT, PLEASE STAND BY FOR ULTIMATE DISSECTION.

Oh boy. Oh boy. As predicted, our man is going through it and you can see it (God bless you Charlie, you're as wonderful an actor as ever). He's convinced, of course, that he's doing ok. He's holding down a good job, he's got a new apartment, he's managing to ignore the screams at night even if he has to drown it out with music and live up so high to try to muffle it, he's not laying in bed like a lump, he's not going out to fight, whatever you do, don't go out there, if I go I'll slip again. But this isn't a man who's ok. This is a man who's terrified and wracked with guilt because not only did his life as Daredevil (in his mind) lead to his best friend's death, but he broke his rule. He made the kill move, gave into his grief and his rage, and it was only through luck that Dex lived. It would only eat at him more that it was over Foggy, one of the people who regularly encouraged Matt to hold back from taking that final step. Matt knows Foggy wouldn't have wanted that for Matt.

He was warned that one day he'd kill someone. And he tried to do it.

Giving up Daredevil is what Foggy would have wanted. I have no doubt he's telling himself that.

But you can only cut away part of yourself for so long before it finds a way out. Matt will never be able to resist going to help those who need it. He'll never be able to fully turn away, and he enjoys those fights.

That's where that scream comes from at the end of Ep 2. He has done everything he's supposed to. He's given it all up, he's moved, he's focused on the law only, and he even fucking begged them to leave him be. He let them beat him and beat him and beat him, and still he didn't raise a hand.

Not until that gun came out.

And he snapped.

Everything done right, and still he finds his way here again, with blood on his fists and his adrenaline up and, I'm sure, no small bit of guilty enjoyment over suddenly being back in a fight that he won.

Our man is not ok, and I think he's going to realize that going forward.

This IS our man. There's some frayed edges here - there usually are in pilots, in shows that had this many production issues. But there is so, so much good here too to build on and I'm eager to see where Charlie and them take it even if it winds up crushing my heart a bit more in the process.

[datauthorress]

ok but feral!logan finding the reader crying in bed so he cuddles and nuzzles her to try make her happy 🥺

feral! Logan finding his mate crying? Oh, he doesn't like when the Reader cries.

~

it's another bad pain day for you.

you had woken up with your leg throbbing in pure agony and you managed to slip out of logan's arms without disturbing him so you could get up and take your medication, sitting down on the bathroom floor to wait for the pain to dull enough for you to go back to bed.

you wondered if you should take charles' offer of another surgery to try and repair the bones, but you know that the surgery would only lessen your pain for a short amount of time and not fully take it away. you had already had seven surgeries on your leg. you really didn't want to go through another.

when the pain dulled enough for you to stand up, you did so and made your way back to bed. you got comfortable on your side and managed to fall back asleep, only to wake up some time in the early afternoon, tears dotting the corners of your eyes as your leg ached.

you buried your face in your pillow, attempting to stifle your soft sobs into the fabric.

until you heard a rumble and you cracked open your eyes to see logan coming into the room, kneeling down beside the bed. his dark eyes filled with concern, as he watched you lay there with pain radiating through your body.

"i'm okay, logan. just....a bad pain day for me," you said with a soft sniffle.

logan frowned and he got up on the bed, making his way behind you so he could pull you against his warm chest. you sighed at the sensation, rolling over so you could press closer against him. that deep rumble reverberated through logan's chest and he pressed a tender kiss against your forehead, his nose nuzzling against your skin. you began to relax, comforted by his soft touches and his protective embrace.

"don't like seeing mate in pain," he murmured, a large hand threading through your dark locks.

"i don't like it either, but....not much i can do about it. but this...this is helping," you replied, resting your head against his chest, tucked under his chin.

"love mate," he whispered, holding you close against him.

"i love you too," you whispered back.

[helpmyinterestsareverywhere]

OH

MY

GOD

I'm all for villain (or at least corrupted) Arin and the cycle of fsm's family first student curse + the additional generational trauma

But imagine if Lloyd and Arin become the breaker of that cycle?

And only because of one reason

Open vulnerability.

What happens if in the tournament there was a moment where Arin and lloyd fight. Arin who is overwhelmed by failure after failure finally just snaps at lloyd, and lloyd is trying to diffuse his anger but that just makes Arin angry even more

And then he punched him just like in the vision and he is dwelled into a panic attack because oh god his vision is coming true, but thats not the ONLY thing he is having a panic attack over

Its the fact its happening again. Someone he cares about is hating him again hurting him betraying him and he is reminded of pythor harumi garmado-

He can still hear Arin shouting (probably about how much of a failure he is) but he can't hear it anymore, everything is buzzing out and he can only hear his racing heartbeat and be reminded of all these people who've hurt him and he can't possibly put Arin into those people. He can't. I t must be hi s fault. Hes n ot a go od teac h er. H fail ed. FAILED. FAILED

And then we look back to Arin.

And hes done shouting (especially after he got no response) and hes looking at lloyd. And stops.

He sees him having another panic attack.. but this one seems worse, this one... reminds him of.. him

When he was missing his parents.

The first week after the merge..

and then hes reminded of younger him (well younger-er) how when he was crying and struggling to breath no one seemed to care to help him, how lonely he was, how painful it was..

And before he knows it, his anger dissipated.

And felt shame and guilt pooled in

Suddenly he was at his younger– LLOYD's side.. and he doesn't know what to do, he'd seen Nya hold lloyd's hand to ground him, but...

Throwing away doubt he grabs lloyd's arm that is kinda gripping his hair a bit too tightly

And lloyd flinches. He flinches.. from HIM

He looks at lloyd and REALLY looks at him, without any lenses, without any hero worship, without anything.

He felt guilt twist in his stomach painfully

He sees the eyebags, the terror and far away gaze in his eyes. He doesn't even wanna KNOW what lloyd is thinking, he sees the tears pooling–

He doesn't wanna see anymore

He pulls lloyd's arm gently and puts his hand over his face, so lloyd will feel his breath. Hopefully following his breathing and feels the apology in his tears

Because hes reminded of how much stressful it has been; for HIM. He has been so focused on himself he never thought how stressful this whole situation is to the ninja

And hes digusted with himself because he still feels disappointed; in himself, in lloyd, in.. in everything

The hand on his face started moving, touching his tears.. and gently wiping it

He sees the broken look on lloyd's face, but there was a hint of relief

Hes relieved i didn't leave him

A door was opened for them and the embrace after they found an understanding was the greatest feeling

He didn't know what it was.. but he felt something shifted, a fate that has been changed. He was hopeful for whats to come

Unbeknownst to the both of them, a cycle has been broken and the watchful eyes of a grandfather has never been prouder

HDHHDHSNRHSNNAHADHDJSJW YEAHHH I DON'T THINK I'M OKAY ANYMORE THANKS 👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍👍

DHFHJDJFJSJRJAJJA DUDE THIS ACTUALLY SO GOOD I NEVER CONSIDERED THE CYCLE BEING BROKEN WAAHAHGHHFHDDHDHHD AND BY OPEN VULNERABILITY?????

ARIN PUNCHING HIM JUST LIKE IN THE VISION????? GODDAMNITNSHFHSJWJWJJEQHFHFHSHSH THE BROKEN TEXT AFTER LLOYD GOT HIT AGGHGH DUDEEE...

AND ARIN FEELING GUILT AND SHAME WHEN HE SEES LLOYD LIKE THAT AGHFDJEEJJEDJDJD THEIR HUG AT THE END.......

AND THE FSM WATCHING OVER THEM BYE I'M JUST GONNA JUMP INTO THE VOID SHSJDAKSKSAI

[v1x3n]

D A D D Y K I N K

꒰ PAIRING : kento nanami x reader.

꒰ SYNOPSIS : after bratty words he did the only thing that would fix your manners, not his fault youre such a brat to daddy, is it?

꒰ TAGS : smut - punishment, spanking, praise, daddy kink, crying, thigh slapping and teasing.

navigation ⸝⸝ kinktober masterlist ⸝⸝ taglist

“I told you t’ count, didn't i?” your husband hums with a voice one would use on a child. “Let's restart, okay?” his grin grew when your hips shifted and your head twists, shaking your head so quickly you could get dizzy.

you mewl out, “m sorry!” sniffling then a yelp falls from you as kentos hand connects to your red marked ass, a hit so harsh that your whole body jerks. tears fall down from your face, water dripping onto the floor. your legs kick, trying to run away from the bent over posture you were currently in.

you were bent over in your husband's lap, after a few mean words were targeted at him he just couldn't deal with your bratty attitude anymore!!

your pants were taken off, showing your bare arse and your sweet hole, “d-daddy!” you whine loudly as you receive another harsh smack to your plush skin. “Oh?” he scoffs, rubbing the skin on your body, he coos as he looks over the blushing marks all over your cheeks. His fingers dip through and roll down your holes, teasing both of them. You whine and your body jerks forward, “count” he demands. 

“O-one” you sniffle as he hits your skin. 

Smack! Smack! 

Two harsh slaps deliver to your arse and you jump, tears roll down your face - gagging on the wet as you sob, “t-three!”

“Good girl” Kento smirks, leaving his hand displayed on your arse cheeks, his free hand petting your head. Running a hand through your hair while he lets you settle, your sniffles slowly stopping, a hand brought up to wipe your eyes but as soon as your tears come to a stop, another whack is delivered to your sensitive body, "four!" His fingers trail down to your neglected clit and pussy, collecting the slick in between your folds, his fingers running over the nub and flicking it, your entire body twitches as you cry out, sobbing once more. 

Tears fall onto the floor, splattering down as your husband tuts, “so wet f’ me, hm?” he coos and rubs your pussy, two fingers hovering over your hole and massaging around the sweet circle. His hand that rolls through your hair tightly grabs onto the strands, pulling your head back and you wince. “Say it” Kento hisses. 

“I-im so wet f-for you” whispering the embarrassing words while his fingers rub around your wetness before roughly trailing back up to your plush thighs. Slapping the skin of your thighs and slowly seeing the flesh turn pink. His rough hands impact you so heavily, your mind goes fuzzy due to the pain and you cry out, your moans mixed with agony fill out the room, “so good” he hums. 

“Daddy loves you” Kento whispers into your ear before hitting your arse and your legs squeeze together, ankles trying to twist together to stop the fluids leaking from your weeping cunt, “f-five, daddy! You mewls, crying out. His fingers traced patterns on your flesh, writing the word ‘mine’ over the skin of your thighs before taking a reddening spank to your ass once more. “six!” you squeal. 

“So so good f’ daddy, aren't you?” your husband's boner grew, digging into your ribs. Your arse stung, the red glowing and handprints imprinting onto your surface. You nod repetitively and splatter wet hits onto the floor. “seven!” whining out once more as another whacks your body. 

Smack! Smack!

Another two hits to your body. Drool starts to droop down from your mouth, slipping past your lips, rolling down your chin and joining the wet tears on the floor. A smack hit on your right cheek this time, a red splotch covering the skin. “N-nine!” you moan, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

The pain mixed with pleasure fizzed your brain, a cloud covering all of your thoughts. The only thing u could think of was him and only him, the way his cock was stabbing into you, the way his calloused hands smoothed over your cheeks before he landed the last hit aggressively over the right cheek. Ten. 

“ten , daddy! Ten!” you whine out, a slight relief washes over you as you realise you were done. “You sorry, baby?” 

You nod and his rough hands roll over the red marks he had input on your thighs and ass, “say it” you sniffle, trying to focus on talking, “i-im really sorry daddy, won't be a brat againn” quiet words but luckily he still heard. 

“Such a good girl f’ daddy” 

[softspace-fics]

Flare up

Over the last few days i've had extremely bad flare ups of my joint pains and honestly needed to be able to express it. I was originally going to do a Loki or Stucky fic but I think I needed just a little more StrangeTony in my life so... here we are! I hope you all enjoy. Thank you so much for the love and feedback on my latest posts, I really missed being active. That said, THANK YOUU! Enjoy!

Masterlist - All my work!

Warnings⚠️: Tears, mentions of Tony's trauma, joint pain, comfort, love.

Cg!strangetony x GN! little reader

_______________

Feeling pain wasn’t uncommon for you, constant join pain whether it was in your wrists, knees, ankles, hips or anything else that could cause pain was normal to you. You were able to normally fend it off with some light pain meds and maybe wear a brace for a little and you’d be able to survive.

This pain was not survivable. The agony in even rolling over on your bed was enough to want to scream. It was like something sharp was stabbing your spine and hips as you sat up.

You tried to get up and go take some meds, but on the way to the bathroom it was too much, and you ended up sliding down the wall in the hallway, your legs throbbing from the maybe 10-foot walk.

The only time that you’ve ever felt pain this bad is when you were a kid, and your joints would flare so bad from playing too hard. This pain felt awful. You wanted nothing but your caregivers to come and take all the pain away.

Strange and Tony had been sent on a mission a few days prior, and you weren’t sure when they would be home. All you could do is hope it would be soon.

As you stand back up slowly, you make it to the bathroom before rummaging through the pain meds you have, grabbing some. You take the highest dosage you can take and sit on the floor, crying.

Before you can even register any of the noises coming from the living room, you feel a hand on your shoulder. You freak and move away from whoever is touching you before you realize that it's none other than Tony. His face is full of concern as he gently picks you up off the floor, placing you on the counter as he stands with his hands on your face, making you look at him.

“Baby what happened? Why are you crying? What hurts?” His answers are as soft as he can manage but thinking the worst his eyes are full of concern.

Breaking down fully, you hug him tightly, sobbing into his shoulder about how bad your back and hips feel, begging for him to make it stop, to make it feel better.

He holds you tenderly but closely as he slowly rubs circles onto your back and hips, kissing your cheek. He knew what it was like to have severe pain and be unable to truly think of anything but it. After all of the surgeries and pain he went through to get his chest piece, he wishes none of this type of pain on anyone.

He softly pulls away after your tears become dry heaves and walks over to the bathtub, turning on the warm water. He grabs some Epsom salts and bubble bath, putting them both in before turning towards you and pulling you back to his chest as you try and catch your breath.

“Baby let's get you in a bath so we can try and get you to feeling better, okay? Did you take any meds?” He softly asks, rubbing your back again.

You nod your head, pointing to which ones you took. He nods and kisses your temple before helping you to get undressed and into the tub. Something he loves to do is bathe you. Although in this circumstance all he wants is to see your tears fade.

As the warm water encases you in it, your back and hips eventually start to try and loosen, the pain becoming more bearable as the meds and warm water help.

Your dada sits next to the tub, holding your hand and kissing your temple as he watches you visibly relax some. He knows the next little while is going to be hard for you both. Seeing as strange won't be back for at least another few days, there's nothing more you both can do than just hope that your normal remedies work.

As the water eventually runs cooler, Tony unplugs the bath and helps to get you out and dressed into comfortable clothes before picking you up and taking you to lay on the couch.

Once you're all set up on the couch, he turns on your favorite show and goes to make you breakfast. Even though he doesn’t want to let you leave his sight, he does his best to make your favorite foods before eventually joining you on the couch and feeding you.

Even though the pain was bad and all you wanted to do was cry, having your dada there to help you made it a little easier. The next few days were spent either on the couch, in the tub, or on your Dada’s lap as he tried to help relieve some of the pain by massaging your hips and lower back.

Once your papa got home on the 4th day of pain, he was able to help you feel a little better with some of his remedies, as well as just being there like your Dada was the entire time.

You eventually felt better and back to your normal amounts of pain, but without your two caregivers you weren’t sure you'd ever feel as happy as you do, especially seeing how you felt in the midst of the pain.

If there was anything your caregivers were able to do, was bring a smile to your face and make all the sore and bad days' worth every second.

[jumpywhumpywriter]

Hero Kidnaps Villain Part 12

Warnings: torture, villain whumpee in captivity, brutal caning as a form of punishment, humiliation, treated like a dog, degrading talk

Villain was surprised by Superhero's brutality -- but he must have pushed the crime fighter too far. Superhero only stopped attacking him when he got tired, sweat rolling down his skin from the effort of beating him to a pulp.

Villain was sprawled on the concrete floor of his prison, cuffed hands pinned between him and the floor behind his back. Blood trickled from one corner of his mouth from a split lip, but he still grinned viciously up at the superhero standing over him -- though his face was tight with pain.

His everything hurt. He'd never known pain like this before. Even breathing was agony, sucking air into bruised lungs. Labored breaths wheezing in and out, shallow and short.

Villain tried to sit up, hide how much pain he was in to not give Superhero any satisfaction, but didn't even get an inch off the floor before agony stabbed his gut and he fell back down with a groan.

He didn't even see the foot coming for him until Superhero brutally kicked him in the ribs, hard enough that Villain could hear the bones crack under the impact.

He let out a guttural shriek, trying desperately to scoot away from Superhero and press himself up against the far wall because it felt safer and would at least guard his back so he could see any other blows coming -- but Superhero snatched the chain attached to his collar in one hand and roughly yanked him forward, choking him.

Villain couldn't hide the fear anymore as he was dragged over to lay at his enemy's feet, bruised and injured and in so much pain.

This wasn't how heroes were supposed to work! He wanted to scream. They weren't supposed to torture people!

His mind was in full survival mode now, his chest rising and falling with frantic, erratic breaths. He was a cornered animal here -- he needed to wise up if he didn't want to die.

"Let’s try again," Superhero snarled down at the shivering criminal. "What are your rules, Villain?"

Villain growled angrily, but the sound came out shaky and uncertain, ruining the picture of defiance he'd been putting up. Because the truth was, giving in was growing more and more appealing by the second, if it spared him further torture. All he had to do was repeat some stupid sentences to keep Superhero happy, right? It couldn't be that bad...

Villain's soul withered at the mere thought of letting his enemy win. But... he was scared, and hurting, more than he'd admit.

Superhero apparently didn't like his hesitation, because he rested the tip of his cane on a bleeding gash that had been busted open on Villain's shoulder -- and pressed down hard, grinding the end into the open wound.

Villain screamed, his world whiting out with pain as he writhed and thrashed weakly.

"Be obedient!" He shrieked desperately, his voice coming out in a raw wail.

Superhero lightened the pressure on the cane -- leaving it halfway in Villain's wound, but not putting his full weight into it anymore. "Good. Next?" He demanded gruffly.

Villain choked on a sob, the cane twisting in his injury in warning when he didn't answer quick enough.

"L-Listen to instructions," he croaked, humiliation reddening his face. "Do not resist..."

"And?" Superhero hissed icily.

"And... And do not fight back," Villain panted, tears streaming freely down his face.

There was an awful wet sound as Superhero pulled the cane out of his shoulder, and Villain let out a sharp cry as it left his flesh, shuddering at the sensation of warm blood sliding down his skin.

He flinched violently when Superhero kneeled next to him, aggressively unbuckling the muzzle and ripping it off his face, to his surprise.

Superhero's eyes were blazing as they locked with Villain's, full of cruelty and malice. He roughly grabbed Villain's jaw with a bruising grip.

"Have you learned your lesson now?" He spat harshly in his captive's face.

Villain groaned weakly in protest, but he was in no condition to fight anymore. His enemy held the power here. So he forced himself to nod stiffly, wincing when Superhero's grip tightened.

"And are you a good dog?"

Another shallow nod, followed by a shudder of disgust this time.

"Good dogs don't bite," Superhero growled, and he let go of his jaw to boldly shift his hand up to press on the side of Villain's mouth, within biting range. The scratchy gauze wrapping his fingers from the previous incident rubbed against Villain's skin. "Open."

Villain's gut sank with dread. He didn't like where this was going -- but what other choice did he have but to comply?

He reluctantly let his jaw go slack, dropping open.

He wasn't prepared for Superhero to shove both of his bandaged fingers into his mouth, far enough in to touch the back of his throat and make it hard to breathe, startling him.

Superhero made a big show of it, turning to face the two apprentices he'd brought with him as he roughly moved his fingers around in Villain's mouth and throat, making him choke and gag and squirm to escape.

"This is the result you want to get," he hissed, shoving his fingers deep into Villain's throat once to make him gag violently before retreating to resume exploring the inside of his mouth. "This is the same mangy creature that bit me yesterday. But now he wouldn't dare bite me. That's called progress."

Villain hated how true that was. He was too scared of the potential consequences to closing his jaws and sinking his teeth into Superhero's hand like before. Even though the gauze from Superhero's bandaged fingers scratched the sensitive parts of his mouth raw and bloody, it was a welcome mercy compared to the brutal beating he'd endured minutes earlier.

So he allowed it to happen -- let Superhero do what he wanted to him without resisting, aside from involuntary movements like the consistent gagging whenever Superhero pushed his fingers too deep into his throat.

He had to pick his pain. And he had.

He was left gasping for air when Superhero finally retreated from exploring his mouth, the foul taste of medicated gauze and stale blood lingering on his tongue. His eyes tracked Superhero's movements as the man stepped away from him, before they widened in horror as Superhero handed the cane to one of the others he'd brought with him to watch -- the girl, specifically.

No. Please no. I swear I've learned my lesson. Please! The thoughts never translated into words for Villain, for he knew begging would only anger Superhero and result in him hurting him more. He could only watch helplessly as Superhero gestured toward his trembling form bleeding on the floor.

"Consider this practice. I want you to do the same as what you saw me do -- deal however much motivation it takes to get him to repeat his four rules and bare his throat to you like the lowlife dog he is. Drill it into him. Show me how much progress you can make with him and I'll consider giving you your own pet to train.”

The girl took a confident step towards Villain, expression excited and eager to please.

Villain flinched as she wound up and swung the cane at him, closing his eyes and bracing himself in anticipation.

Today was going to be hell for him. Nothing but hell. And he knew he'd be screaming the whole time. Superhero would make sure of that.

⏪️ Back Next ⏩️

Masterlist

@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump

@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @togzy

@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @written-in-the-stars135 @neverthelass

@starz8nk @redwinesupanover @whumpisgoodwhumpislife @theforeverdyingperson @writing-with-olive

@f1sh-bone

[ghoulishhx]

as a music oriented girly (my dream is to be in a band) i need to play frank sooo many songs and write songs about him and teach him guitar properly because baby could NOT play in the show lmao bless him

my toxic trait is relating lyrics to any situation ever and i fear i would make him cry by shoving headphones at him and being like this song is so you and maria or you and your kids and its the most gut wrenching song ever (probably pheobe bridgers) but yknow hes gotta process somehow 🥰🥰

ugh i love music and i love frank castle

-💥 (hope youre having a wonderful day!! mwah)

oh my god i feel like we may be the same person??? because me too??? I'm actually a musician irl, released some songs over written on Spotify in the past but they're not there anymore because I got self conscious of them LOL. I play guitar, bass and I sing too :3 I used to be in a band back in university and it was so fun ugh I miss it!!!

maybe it's me being biased, but i think frank would find it so HOT. I've said before and I'll say it again, he LOVES and artistic girl, he loves how passionate you get over your hobbies and interests. especially a fucking sexy ass guitar/bass player, that would drive him feral. he's such a big music lover anyway, but you elevate his love for it even more.

I can imagine you trying to teach him, and he's so fucking stubborn usually but even more so in this circumstance.

"no frank c'mon. that's the wrong barre chord, you're playing f#m instead of fm"

"what's the fuckin' difference anyway? both f's ain't they?"

"there's a difference baby, a big one. move your fingers like this, lemme show you."

you reach around him, angling his large calloused hands in your smaller calloused fingers, maneuvering them along the strings. even if he's not as skilled as you are, he still enjoys your company guiding him through this stuff, feeling your warmth as you encompass him fills his heart, listening intently to your lessons, indulging you.

oh and I believe it goes without saying you and frank have an insanely large physical media collection, especially vinyls. before you, Frank was very minimalistic, not seeing any point in clutter or things that weren't toilet roll and artillery. but moving in together you moved your expensive vinyl set-up into your shared home, and now it's the pride and joy of your living space. there's never a second a record isn't spinning, whether it be waylon jennings or system of a down. music is such a huge part of your life, and Frank adores that about you, indulging in it by treating you on birthdays and christmas' to rare pressings of your sought after albums etc.

there was many nights he'd return home to you sobbing on the kitchen floor, headphones on your head as you listen to the most gut wrenching song of your life.

"told ya y'should stop listening to jeff buckley sweetheart, he always makes ya like this." he would softly speak, crouching down to your removing the headphones.

"he's just so perfect frankie, I know it's over is the perfect cover." you sigh wiping the tears from your sodden cheeks.

"I know doll, I know. c'mere." even though he didn't understand how you could feel so extremely for a song he doesn't hesitate lifting you into his strong arms and carrying you to bed, tucking you up in his chest as you hum the melody to a song you've been writing. despite your differences, he wouldn't change you for the world.

I'm in agony i need to play for him NOW

[paul-matthews87]

*after Richie goes into his room, Paul decides to go to his room as well*

Imagine watching your loved ones die just to see them again, again, again..

Ooc: #Richie timeline au, but it’s not him :3

…What? I don’t…really want to think about that.

[cheollollipop]

Fragments of Us - Chapter 3. | c.sc

pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut (MDNI)

warning(s): kissing😏 yn is dramatic af over a packet of chocolate powder. that’s pretty much it.

summary: two years after a messy breakup, seungcheol and yn reconnect unexpectedly.

word count: 5.4k

start date: nov. 20, 2024

end date: -

a/n: THIS IS SO LONG OVERDUE AND ITS NOT EVEN THE GOOD STUFF IM SO SORRY!!! this chapter is… a filler, yes. i’m sorry i know i just gotta develop subin and yn’s relationship but. i promise good stuff happens next chapter please don’t hurt me omfg.

Friday rolls around like clockwork, but this time it drags with it the unmistakable agony that I've come to dread. I wake up to a stabbing ache in my abdomen that feels like my insides are at war. My groan echoes through the quiet morning as I force myself out of bed, clutching my stomach for some semblance of relief. Every step to the bathroom feels heavier than it should, as if my body is actively working against me. Even the faint light slipping through the blinds feels cruel, adding to the overall sense of injustice.

When I finally reach the bathroom and flip on the light, I brace myself. Sure enough, the dreaded sight confirms my suspicion: my period has started. Of course, it couldn't wait for a more convenient day—it had to strike now, when I had a to-do list and absolutely no patience to deal with this.

"Are you kidding me right now?" I mutter. It's not like I was expecting sympathy from anyone—there's no one here but me—but voicing my frustration feels like a necessary release. The frustration bubbles up as I slump onto the toilet lid, head in my hands, cursing my uterus and whoever thought this monthly torture was necessary. I sit there for a few moments, letting the wave of annoyance and discomfort wash over me, trying to summon the will to move. The stabbing ache in my abdomen sharpens as if to remind me there's no escape, and I sigh.

Resigning myself to the inevitable, I force myself into the shower, hoping the warm water will work its magic. The second the hot stream hits my skin, I feel some of the tension in my body start to ease. It's not a cure—far from it—but at least the cramps relent just enough for me to stand upright without wincing. I close my eyes, letting the water wash over me as I mentally prepare for the day ahead. It's going to be a battle: heating pads, painkillers, stretchy clothes, and sheer willpower to push through the fatigue and discomfort. My mind drifts to the only comforting thought I can muster: a steaming cup of hot cocoa, piled high with big, fluffy marshmallows. The thought alone is enough to coax a small glimmer of hope through the haze of frustration.

After what feels like an eternity, I step out of the shower and dry off, the warmth already fading from my skin. The trek back to my room feels impossibly long. I throw on the comfiest pair of sweatpants I own and an oversized tee, both practically begging me to crawl back into bed. But the promise of hot cocoa propels me to the kitchen. My stomach churns, both from hunger and from the cramps twisting through me, as I open the cabinet where I keep my stash of cocoa mix.

And then I see it. Or rather, I don't. The shelf is empty. My mind refuses to process it at first, and I blink, hoping that somehow, in the haze of pain and exhaustion, I've simply overlooked it. But no—there's nothing there. My heart sinks.

"No. No, no, no!" I slam the cabinet shut and yank it open again, as though the act of closing and reopening it will somehow summon the cocoa mix into existence. My hands grip the edge of the counter as I stare into the empty shelf, frozen in disbelief.

A choked sob escapes me, and before I know it, I'm sliding to the floor in a dramatic heap. The tears come harder now, and I don't even try to stop them. It's ridiculous, I know that. I'm crying over cocoa mix. But in this moment, with the pain, the exhaustion, and the sheer unfairness of it all, it feels like the final straw. My body shakes with sobs as I sit there on the cold kitchen floor, and for a fleeting second, I want to laugh at how absurd this all is. A sick joke—surely, it has to be.

But there's no punchline, just me, a throbbing stomach, and the realization that today, like my uterus, is completely unforgiving.

From the corner of my room, I hear my phone buzz on the nightstand, and then the sharp ring pierces the air. I try to shush it as if the noise would magically stop if I willed it hard enough. But it doesn't. The ringing continues, relentless, until I drag myself up from the kitchen floor, feeling every ounce of effort it takes. My feet shuffle against the floor as I make my way to my room, throwing myself onto my bed with the weight of defeat.

The ringing stops, but a notification pops up on my screen. A text. I groan as I reach for my phone, not ready to deal with the world yet. The name on the screen catches my eye. Subin.

"Hey," I say, my voice dry and strained as I call back.

"Oh, uh... Did I wake you?" he asks, his tone hesitant but light.

"No. I'm out of hot cocoa," I reply flatly. My words hang in the air, and I can only imagine the expression on his face, a mix of confusion and amusement.

"I'm...sorry...?" he says, clearly unsure of how to respond.

"I would say it's fine, but it's not. I started my period, I am in excruciating pain, and the only thing that could make this day better is hot cocoa. But I'm out, and now I'm about to start crying again." The words spill out of me in a rush, each sentence rising in pitch as the tears threaten to make a second appearance.

"The only thing?" he teases, his voice tinged with a playful tone.

I sigh heavily, the weight of the day pressing on me. I know he's trying to make me laugh, to lighten the mood, but my world feels like it's ending in that moment. "I can't be mean to you. Please help me," I plead, my voice breaking slightly.

"Alright, I'm sorry," he chuckles softly, his tone shifting to something warmer, more comforting.

"How about this: we cancel tonight's date. I'll stop by after work and bring you some hot cocoa. You can rest and recover. How does that sound?"

"I suck. I'm sorry," I mumble, guilt creeping in for ruining our plans.

"You do not suck. Periods happen, it's no biggie. I'll stop by after I'm off, okay? Hang in there for me, champ," he says with a reassuring tone.

"Okay," I whisper, and we end the call.

For a moment, I stare at my phone, the screen dimming as I replay the conversation in my head. The promise of hot cocoa and his presence gives me something to look forward to, a small glimmer of light at the end of this particularly dreary day.

I lay back on the bed, pulling the covers over me as the cramps continue their assault. The heating pad I'd forgotten about sits abandoned on the chair, and I lazily stretch out to grab it, plugging it in and placing it on my abdomen. The warmth spreads slowly, soothing the sharp ache into a dull throb.

My mind drifts, and I let the quietness of the room envelop me. The ticking clock on the wall fills the silence, a rhythmic reminder that time is passing. I'll survive this day. I've done it before, and I'll do it again. But for now, I let myself sink into the comfort of knowing that help and hot cocoa—is on its way.

I spend the majority of my day drifting in and out of sleep, curled up in my blanket cocoon, trying to will away the cramps. The heating pad has become my closest ally, alternating between its usual position on my abdomen and being squished against my lower back. By mid-afternoon, hunger forces me out of my room, though every movement feels like a Herculean effort. My body protests with each step, reminding me that it's firmly in charge today.

As I shuffle toward the kitchen, my phone buzzes on the nightstand. I grab it on my way out of the room, glancing at the screen. It's Sonya. I answer with a weary voice as I open the pantry to check if there's anything I can stomach.

"Sonya," I say flatly, pressing the phone to my ear.

"Oh. Someone's on their period," she quips, her tone dripping with mock sympathy.

"You are correct," I sigh, setting the phone on speaker and placing it on the counter. I reach into the cabinet, eyeing the ramen packets stacked in the corner, mentally debating between spicy or mild.

"Poor babe. Have you had your 'cup of joe' yet?" she asks, her voice tinged with teasing. My heart sinks as her words remind me of my earlier heartbreak. Hope surges for a brief second, and I open the cabinet where I keep my hot cocoa mix, praying against all odds that it was just a bad dream.

But the shelf is still empty.

"Don't remind me. I'm out," I reply flatly, closing the cabinet door with a little more force than necessary.

"Out?! How are you alive right now?" she exclaims, her dramatic tone matching mine from earlier.

"I honestly don't even know if I am right now," I reply, grabbing a pot and filling it with water. "Subin is stopping by in a bit to bring some, though."

"Subin, huh?" she drawls, dragging out the name in a way that makes me roll my eyes. "Interesting development."

"Not the time, Sonya," I say firmly, dropping the ramen block into the boiling water. The sizzle and steam fill the kitchen as I rummage around for the seasoning packet.

"Fine, fine," she says with a chuckle. "Anywho, I called to see if you wanted to come out with us later, but I guess I got my answer, grumpy pants."

"Who's 'us'?" I ask, curiosity piqued despite myself.

"Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Joshua, Dino, and me," she says casually, as if this lineup isn't a bit random.

"Evil twins, the youngest, and the fiancé... What an interesting set of people," I say, smirking as I sprinkle the seasoning into the pot. The spicy aroma wafts up, making my stomach growl in response.

She laughs. "I know, right? It's like the start of a bad sitcom. But you should totally come! It'll be fun, I promise."

I shake my head even though she can't see me. "Besides," I start, lowering the heat on the stove, "Hannie hates me now, so there's that. You guys have fun, though. Tell everyone I say hello."

Sonya sighs, her voice softening. "He doesn't hate you, Y/N. You know that."

"Whatever you want to call it," I reply, brushing her comment off. I don't have the energy to argue about this right now. "Bye. I love you. Be safe!" I say quickly, not giving her a chance to linger on the topic.

"Love you too, grumpy pants. Tell Subin to hurry so you don't burn down your building," she says with a chuckle, and the call ends.

I stir the noodles idly, letting the quiet kitchen fill the void left by our conversation. The spicy scent of the ramen is comforting, a small reprieve from the otherwise miserable day. I ladle the steaming noodles into a bowl, settling myself at the table. As I take the first bite, my mind wanders back to Sonya's words.

Jeonghan doesn't hate me. At least, not technically. I push the thought aside, focusing on the warmth of the broth and the way it soothes my empty stomach.

For now, I let the world outside my apartment keep spinning without me. Subin will be here soon with hot cocoa, and maybe—just maybe—the day will start to feel a little less like a disaster.

A loud knock jolts me awake, and I blink groggily, disoriented by the sudden noise. My eyes dart to the clock on my nightstand, and I realize I must have dozed off without even meaning to. The knock sounds again, insistent but not harsh, and I force myself to sit up. My body protests, stiff from lying in one position too long, but curiosity leads me toward the door.

I peek through the peephole and feel a rush of warmth when I see Subin on the other side, a familiar, easy grin plastered across his face. His hands are full—two bags dangling from his arms, brimming with who-knows-what. I swing the door open, and his grin widens as soon as he sees me.

"There you are," he says, lifting the bags triumphantly. "Delivery for one very grumpy period warrior."

I step aside to let him in, my heart doing an involuntary flip at the sight of him. His smile is disarmingly bright, the kind that makes it hard to look away. "Sorry I took longer than expected," he continues, nudging the door shut with his foot. "Had to make a few stops."

"No worries," I reply, trying to ignore the way my heart flutters in his presence. "I slept most of the day anyway." I gesture to the bags he's carrying, chuckling softly. "So, what's all this? Did you bring the entire convenience store?"

"Ah, yes," he says dramatically, holding up the bags like some victorious knight. "I come bearing gifts." He hands them to me with a flourish, and I carry them to the living room, plopping them onto the couch.

Curiosity gets the better of me, and I dump the contents of the bags onto the cushions. My eyes widen as I take in the haul: my favorite snacks, a few random comfort foods, and as promised, not one, but two boxes of instant hot cocoa. "How did you—" I start, staring at the array of goodies.

Subin scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. "I may have overheard a conversation between you and Nayeon about your favorite snacks during this time of the month," he admits. "I promise I'm not a creep. Just blessed with the memory of an elephant." He offers a self-deprecating smile, his dark eyes watching me carefully, almost nervously.

I stand there, momentarily stunned, my brain struggling to process the thoughtfulness behind his gesture. He notices my silence, and his smile falters. "Is it too much?" he asks quickly. "I'm sorry. I just wanted you to feel—"

Before he can finish, I take two quick steps forward and press my lips against his, cutting him off mid-sentence. For a moment, he freezes, but then he melts into the kiss, his hands finding their way to my waist.

When we finally pull apart, his forehead leans against mine, and he grins. "I take it you're not creeped out?" he mumbles, his breath warm against my skin.

"Stop talking," I whisper, smiling despite myself. I tug his hand, pulling him toward the couch.

We collapse onto the cushions, surrounded by the chaotic mess of snacks, and I lean my head against Subin's shoulder. The day's pain and exhaustion feel like a distant memory, replaced by the warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his breathing beside me. As if on cue, he reaches for the box of hot cocoa sitting amid the pile of treats, holding it up like a trophy.

"Think you're up for some?" he asks, his voice soft and teasing.

"Always," I reply, a small smile tugging at the corners of my lips. In that moment, everything feels a little lighter, a little brighter, and I allow myself to sink into the comfort of it all.

"I've been told I make a mean cup of cocoa," he says with mock arrogance as he stands, offering me his hand to join him.

"Really now? Well, as an instant hot cocoa connoisseur, I guess I'll have to be the judge of that," I tease, letting him pull me off the couch and lead me to the kitchen.

"Be prepared to have your mind blown," he declares confidently, and I can't help but laugh.

He immediately gets to work, rummaging through my cabinets with a sense of purpose that's both endearing and hilarious. I settle onto a stool at the counter, chin propped in my hands, watching him in action. Subin narrates his every move, recounting his day in between steps—how his boss nearly ruined his lunch break, the traffic on the way over, and how he almost forgot the marshmallows until the last second.

I find myself smiling at the way he talks, so animated and unfiltered, like he's entirely at ease here. But then, he does something that nearly stops my heart.

"Subin..." I say slowly, eyeing the small jar in his hand. "Why are you putting cayenne pepper in my hot chocolate?"

He pauses mid-sprinkle, holding the jar up as if to admire it. "Just trust the process," he replies, completely unfazed.

"I'm not sure I want to," I say, narrowing my eyes.

He finally turns to look at me, his expression equal parts amused and serious. "Do you trust me?"

I hesitate, crossing my arms over my chest. "After seeing that? I'm not so sure," I say with a chuckle, and he laughs too, the sound warm and infectious.

"You'll love it," he insists, turning back to his concoction. "And if you don't...you're lying. It's the best, I promise."

I sigh dramatically, resting my head in my hands as I watch him skeptically. "Fine, Chef Subin. But if I don't like it, I'm making you drink the entire pot by yourself."

He grins over his shoulder. "Deal. But don't worry, that's not going to happen."

Minutes later, he sets a steaming mug in front of me with a flourish. The rich aroma of chocolate fills the air, mingling with a faint hint of something spicy that makes my nose twitch. He slides onto the stool beside me, his own mug in hand, and watches me expectantly.

"Go on," he urges. "First sip's yours."

I lift the mug cautiously, the warmth seeping into my hands. Taking a deep breath, I bring it to my lips and take a tentative sip. The flavors hit me all at once: the creamy sweetness of the chocolate, the marshmallows melting into soft clouds on top, and then, the unexpected kick of the cayenne pepper. It's bold, surprising, and oddly... perfect.

"Okay," I admit reluctantly, lowering the mug. "This is actually amazing."

"Told you!" he says triumphantly, nudging my shoulder with his own.

"Don't get cocky," I warn, though I'm already taking another sip, savoring the way the spicy warmth lingers on my tongue. "But seriously, how did you come up with this?"

He shrugs, leaning back casually. "Saw it in a movie once. Thought I'd try it out, and now it's my secret weapon. Figured you deserved the best tonight."

His words are casual, but they hit me in a way I wasn't prepared for. I glance at him, his face lit up with genuine satisfaction, and feel a flutter in my chest that has nothing to do with the cocoa.

"Thank you," I say softly, my voice almost drowned out by the hum of the fridge in the background.

He looks at me, his expression suddenly serious. "For what?"

"For this," I gesture to the mug, the snacks, and everything else he's done today. "For making me feel... better. I know I was being dramatic earlier but this really does mean a lot to me."

His smile softens, and he reaches out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. "Anytime," he says simply, and I believe him.

We sit there for a while, sipping our cocoa in comfortable silence, the warmth of the moment wrapping around us like a cozy blanket. The rich scent of chocolate fills the air, mingling with the faint spice of cayenne lingering in my cup. For the first time all day, I feel like I can breathe. Subin shifts beside me, breaking the quiet with a question.

"So tell me," he starts as we make our way back to the living room, cups in hand.

"Hm?" I hum, settling back into the cushions.

"Why hot chocolate?" he asks, tilting his head curiously. "I mean, I'm no period expert, obviously, but that's a new one for me. Most people go for ice cream or, I don't know, heating pads or something." His lips quirk into a small grin, and I chuckle softly at his attempt to make light of the question.

I take a slow sip of my cocoa, gathering my thoughts before answering. "When I first got my period, I was terrified. I had no idea what was happening to me. My mom...she did everything she could to help me through it. One night, I remember being in the worst pain but also having these insane cravings for chocolate—like, I couldn't think about anything else. It was late, though, way too late to go to any stores. So, she did what she could and whipped up the finest cup of hot chocolate I'd ever had in my life. She even added whipped cream and marshmallows, the whole works." I pause, smiling faintly at the memory.

Subin's eyes stay locked on mine, his attention so unwavering that it almost makes me self-conscious. "That sounds...amazing," he says quietly, prompting me to continue.

"It was," I nod. "But what made it even more special was what came after. We sat there that night for hours, just the two of us. She explained to me what it meant to be a woman, how to navigate all of this—the pain, the mood swings, the unpredictability of it all. She shared stories about her first period, how she felt just as scared and confused as I did, and how she got through it."

I take another sip, letting the warmth of the cocoa soothe me before continuing. "After that, it kind of became our ritual. Whenever I was in pain or feeling down, she'd make hot chocolate, and we'd have these long talks. Sometimes it was about life, sometimes it was just silly stuff to make me laugh. It became this comfort thing for me, a little tradition that made everything feel less overwhelming." My voice softens as I add, "Even now, when she's not here, it still feels like a way to connect with her. Like she's still taking care of me, in a way."

Subin's expression shifts, a mix of admiration and something softer—empathy, maybe. "She sounds like a wonderful woman," he says, his voice low but sincere.

"She was," I whisper, the words catching slightly in my throat. I look down at my mug, tracing the rim with my finger. "Always there for me, no matter what. She just...knew how to make everything better."

The room falls silent for a moment, the weight of the memory settling between us. Subin leans back, his gaze never leaving mine. "You know," he says after a pause, "that explains a lot about you."

I frown slightly. "What do you mean?"

He shrugs, a small smile tugging at his lips. "The way you care about people. The way you notice the little things, like how someone's feeling or what they need, even when they don't say it. It's like...it's second nature for you. Now I see where you get it from."

The compliment catches me off guard, and I feel a faint warmth rise to my cheeks. "You're giving me too much credit," I mumble, looking away.

"I don't think I am," he counters, his tone firm but kind. "You probably don't even realize it, but you're the kind of person who makes people feel safe. Like, even when you're the one having a rough day, you still have this way of making everyone else feel better. That's rare, you know?"

I meet his gaze again, and the sincerity in his eyes makes my heart ache in the best way. "Thank you," I say softly, the words barely audible.

He smiles, "Anytime."

We sit there a while longer, the quiet between us feeling more like a warm embrace than a gap to fill. The chaos of snacks scattered across the coffee table remains untouched, a colorful testament to the spontaneity of the night. But neither of us seems to care. This moment—unpolished, imperfect, and entirely unplanned—feels just right.

After what feels like forever, Subin finally breaks the silence. His tone is teasing, his words laced with an exaggerated dramatic flair. "I'm going to say something," he begins, stretching out his legs and leaning back against the couch, "I just want to say that this is probably the best three-date streak I've ever had."

I tilt my head, raising an eyebrow. "You're definitely just saying that."

"No, I'm serious!" he protests, his grin widening. "Each time, I learn something new about you. Something interesting, something that makes me..." He pauses, as if searching for the right words. "I don't know. It's like you're making it very hard not to like you."

I scoff softly, shaking my head as I glance down at the mug in my hands. The rich scent of cocoa swirls around me, but the weight of his words lingers heavier. "My life is a mess, Subin," I admit quietly. "You don't even know the half of it."

"Hey." His voice softens, and when I look up, he's already leaning toward me. With a feather-light touch, he tilts my chin, guiding my gaze to meet his. His eyes are warm and steady, and for a moment, the chaos in my mind stills. "We all have our demons," he says gently. "It's how we handle them that matters. And whether or not you choose to share yours with me, what I've seen so far is someone who still finds a way to get through the day. Someone who treats people with kindness, respect, and compassion, no matter what."

His words hit me harder than I expect, and I blink, unsure how to respond. The sincerity in his gaze, the warmth in his tone—it's almost too much. So, instead of addressing it directly, I do what I do best. I deflect.

"Are you just trying to butter me up?" I ask, narrowing my eyes at him in mock suspicion.

"Yes," he admits without missing a beat, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. But then his expression softens again. "But I'm also telling the truth. I don't know what you've been through to make you see yourself this way, but that kindness you give to everyone else? Make sure you save a little for yourself too, okay?"

Before I can respond, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of my nose. It's such a simple gesture, yet it makes my chest ache in the best way. As if sensing the emotions bubbling beneath the surface, he shifts, pulling me closer and tucking my head against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, grounding me in the moment.

"Now," he says after a moment, his tone brightening, "I don't know about you, but I could definitely use a good movie to lighten the mood. What do you say?"

I exhale, relieved at the shift in conversation. "You read my mind," I murmur, leaning into his warmth.

"How about Twilight?" I suggest, tilting my head up to gauge his reaction.

His eyes light up with amusement. "I can get down with that," he says with an exaggerated nod. But then he raises an eyebrow, his expression turning mock-serious. "But the real question is: Team Edward or Team Jacob?"

"Edward, duh," I answer immediately, giving him a look that says there's no other possible choice.

"Consensual king," he agrees with a dramatic nod of approval. Then, with a sly grin, he adds, "Although... he is very gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, no?"

I whip my head toward him, staring in disbelief. "What?! Why do you even know what that means?"

"What?" he says innocently, holding up his hands in defense. "I know things. I, too, have access to the internet."

I burst out laughing, the sound filling the room. It's ridiculous—he's ridiculous—but it's exactly what I need. The heaviness that lingered earlier evaporates, replaced by the effortless lightness he always seems to bring with him.

"You're ridiculous," I say, shaking my head, though the smile tugging at my lips betrays me.

"And yet, you're still here," he points out, flashing me a smug grin.

"Well yes, this is my apartment," I retort, rolling my eyes as I reach for the remote.

"Admit it—you enjoy my company," he challenges, his grin widening.

"Let's just watch the movie," I say, pressing play before he can push me further. But as I lean back against the couch, his arm casually draping over my shoulders, I know he's right. I do.

"For a date that completely derailed, I'd still call this a win."

I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms. "Oh? And what part of tonight screams 'win' to you?"

"Well," he said, counting on his fingers, "I was crowned 'Best Hot Cocoa Maker', I managed to save the day by making said hot cocoa, and I'm ending the night watching Twilight with you, so really, I'm thriving."

I roll my eyes but couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled out. "The bar is on the floor, Subin. Truly."

"Maybe," he teased, "but I think you like it there."

"Okay, fine," I shot back, leaning a little closer. "What if I told you my best friend Sonya is having an engagement party soon, and I'd like you to come with me? Think you'd still be thriving then?"

His grin falters for just a second before his eyes softened. "You want me to go with you?"

"As my date," I clarify, trying to sound casual, but my heart was practically sprinting. "You know, for moral support. Sonya and Wonwoo are...a lot. I mean you've met her, sort of. And I figured it'd be nice to have you there."

Subin leans back, a mock-serious expression on his face. "Hmm, let me think about it. Free food, free drinks, the chance to charm your best friend and annoy her fiancé... Yeah, I'm in."

I laugh, lightly shoving his shoulder. "You're impossible."

"I'm a catch," he corrects, his voice dripping with faux arrogance. "And let's be real, you just want me there because I'll make you look good."

"Right," I say dryly. "It has nothing to do with me liking your company or enjoying your terrible jokes."

"See?" he says, pointing a finger at me. "Admitting you like me is the first step."

I could feel my cheeks heating up, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of an answer. Instead, I grab the remote and gesture toward the screen. "Let's just start the next movie before I regret inviting you anywhere."

"You could never regret me," he says smugly, but he settled down beside me without another word.

New Moon begins, and Subin immediately launches into commentary.

"Why does Jacob never wear a shirt? Like, I get it, he's ripped, but does he have an aversion to fabric?"

"Shh," I say, trying to stifle a giggle. "He's a werewolf; they run hot."

"Hot and allergic to decent pants, apparently."

"Subin!" I laugh, swatting his arm, but the smile didn't leave my face.

As the movie went on, our laughter gave way to comfortable silence. I lean into him without thinking, my head finding its way to his shoulder. He didn't pull away, instead adjusting slightly so I fit there better.

"I was serious by the way. Even if tonight didn't go how we wanted, I'm glad we had it."

"Me too," I say softly, my eyes feeling heavy.

Somewhere between the werewolf drama and the overly intense stares, my eyes drifted shut. I feel Subin's hand brush lightly against mine, and though neither of us moved to hold the other's, the touch lingered—like a quiet promise.

By the time the credits rolled, we were both asleep, the space between us closing as naturally as if it had always been meant to.

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[oops-all-concrete]

BG3 fandom! I have more headcanons- but first!!

I must issue a very loud

⚠️SPOILER WARNING⚠️

For The Dark Urge playthrough of Baldurs Gate 3! There is no further warning below the cut, so if you care not to be spoiled, do not continue to read!

For those of you interested- ahead lies: Angst, hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, blood, mentions of death, no MCD or any perma-death anyway, and lots of love. Greif and pain and emotional hurt are heavy themes as well!

Last warning! ⚠️Spoilers ahead⚠️

I've just gotten to this point in the Dark Urge run (where you reject Bhaal and fucking) DIE, and DUDE- I am stunned companions say NOTHING to your LITERAL DEATH after rejecting Bhaals gift or whatever. (Not in the scenes anyway) So, I'm writing how I think they'd respond cinematically, because your lively Durges deserve to be mourned and loved.

(Of course in-game this would be limited to the dialogue, but I've describes how they would be animated anyhow)

Lae'zel -

She's running to Durge the moment they start lifting from the ground, but pauses once their eyes start rolling back and blackening. There's something beyond her control happening, and she needs it to stop- and it does. With Tav hitting the floor eyes black, soul gone. She's immediately yelling at the others to do something, hand her a scroll, something- but nothing is working. Her shoulder slump after a good few minutes. And finally her voice breaks. She holds a hand to her chest as she wails in agony, holding her Tavs body like it's the last time- because to her- it is. "My angel, my moon. My great protector. I have failed you" She hisses, eyes scrunched shut.

Shadowheart -

She's been afraid her whole life. But even in the face of Bhaal, she will not be afraid if it means Tav will be safer. She immediately casts warding bond, if they're in danger, she'll halve it. If you're going to get hurt, so shall she- and she's okay with that. "Hang on-!" And then it all goes black, she falls without a word or scream, but she's content. If she dies protecting Durge, she cannot ask for better.

(After cutscene convo) Once Durge has been revived by Withers, it's up to them to get a scroll and revive her from the bloodied mess on the floor. She's stunned and confused, but the moment she sees Tav okay she couldn't care less. Why did you do that? "It might sound silly, but I was scared that you would be alone through whatever was about to happen. I don't regret it, if you're wondering"

Wyll -

"Gods- NO!" He shouts, a hand reaching out for them as they hit the ground. He's over them in a flash, holding their head in his arms, trying desperately to wake them, find a pulse, wake up himself and have this all be some sick nightmare. But of course, no such thing happens. The Tav he knows and loves just ceased living before his eyes. There's blood soaking into his every apparel and he's crying his eye out. It crosses his mind. Mizora is powerful- even if she can't fix this, she will know someone or something that can. He'd give anything- his whole life, he'd gladly be a lemure if it gave Tav back. He almost calls for her- until Withers starts his speech. (During the 'your rejection of Bhaal has earned you a place among heroes' section of his dialogue, he'll turn to Wyll and add: 'No devil's, demons or feinds required, I assure you')

Karlach -

If she wasn't raging before, she is now. A tomb-rocking scream echoes around the chamber, eyes wide with horror, body shaking and burning all over, engine out of control but she couldn't care less. One of the others will tell her to calm down. "FUCK THAT! FUCK EVERYTHING! FUCK THE GODS ABOVE AND THE HELLS BELOW." She roars. It goes on, swearing, screaming, swinging- and then, finally- collapse. She drops to her knees and punches the hard ground next to Tavs body, sobbing and exhausted. Withers walks in the the most gut-wrenching agonised scream of why

Gale -

He's frozen as it happens. His hands crackle with weave but he can't move. He needs to do something- anything, but time moves without him. All he knows is he can't breathe, all he can smell is blood and he thinks he's going to be sick. He can hear invisible bones cracking, distant blood dripping and their last choke. The wizard stumbles forward, barely making it to their body before collapsing beside them, on his knees and positively glowing from the mark on his chest. The orb can sense his distress and buzzes within him, as though it can smell the death. He pulls and hand to his mouth, kissing it gently- unable to comprehend a kiss goodbye. "Oh- Gods. Oh my love" he sobs, brows furrowed in what looks like physical pain. "I'm so sorry... I'm so, so sorry..." He wheezes out, scarcely finding breath.

Astarion -

He doesn't let their head hit the ground. He's swift as he catches them, but frantic as he sets their head on his thighs as a pillow. He pulls open their eyelids only to find a blackened core beneath, animalistic and distinctly unfamiliar. "Wake up, damn you...not after all this! You don't get to go!" He yells sounding genuinely furious- like he was going to get violent. If any of the others approach he doesn't notice. "We still have a cult to cull, we have a brain to control- I need you!" He yells, voice raw and eyes wet, the anger melting into greif. He makes a sheild of himself over Durge when Withers walks in, dagger/shortsword in hand, teeth bared, despite his damp face.

(Withers greets Astarion: 'Cry no more Spawn of sanguine- the universe is finally in your favour')

(Only Halsin is romanced for obvious reasons, but closeness is still implied for Minsc and Jaheira)

Halsin -

He catches Durge on the way down, their head on his chest as he lays them down over himself. "My heart? Can you hear me? Please say something" He begs hands glowing with healing magic, eyes aglow as well. He tries for a little, but then his breathing changes entirely, a small hushed gasp sounds from him, his he starts shaking his head, eyes wide. "Oh- oh Gods- Silvannus, please- I cannot bear to lose- oh Gods" He gasps, breath becoming harsher- finally letting tears fall. "Oak Father- please, wherever they go- keep them safe" he prays, teeth gritted in agony.

Jaheira -

She looks away as Tavs life is sapped away, unable to watch another Bhaalspawn friend suffer. When all falls still and silent, she looks among the other companions, shocked and frozen. "They're at peace now. Take comfort in knowing they chose to keep you all safe." She says with a proud nod- but her eyes are wet and her nose scrunched a little with a sniff.

Minsc -

There's small squeaking in the berserkers ear, before he sighs, almost a sob and speaks with a tired voice. "Wise words, Boo. I only wish our friend could hear you" Before he turns away, unable to look at them on the floor. "I am proud to have called them our friend. We should make them proud in return"

Hope you enjoyed! To the lovely people who have made requests, I will get to them as soon as I can!! Thank you for the requests, and please feel free to send me more!

[glitterguts13]

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY PART1

Father's Day special delivery coming right now! Part 1 is all about the Genshin boys having their babies! Enjoy!

Albedo The candlelight is dim, casting a soft orange glow in the dark room. Hunched over next to his bed, Albedo gasps, one hand clutching onto the bed-frame, the other guiding his unborn child into the world.

“Come on, come on, just-” muffling a groan into his forearm, Albedo cries out at his child drops into his waiting hands. Pulling them up to his chest, he weeps softly upon hearing their soft cries.

“Good girl...oh sweet girl, I’ve got you.”

Bennett

“Oh- oh!” sobbing weakly, Bennett reaches under his heavy belly, fingers grazing over the legs dangling from his burning hole. “N-no, baby, no-wrong way-!” he sucks in a breath, crying out as he bares down with what was left of his waning strength. He stretches open, screaming, a suddenly rush of fluid falls onto the floor as his hands grasp around his squalling newborn.

“Oh-Archons thank you...you’re safe, you’re safe now.”

Diluc

Nails digging into the wooden counter tops of his bar, Diluc roars in agony. Legs spread apart, deep into a low squat, he bares down, cursing under his breath as his newborn slips onto the piles of towels he’d had the forethought to place down.

“Fuck-Oh fuck.” quickly lifting them from the floor, Diluc cradles them to his chest, marveling how just how loudly they cried.

“That’s it, good...cry, just keep crying for me.”

Kaeya

Groaning loudly, Kaeya rolls onto his side, lifting one leg into the air. A slow trickle of fluid running down his thighs, the head bulging against his tight rim of muscles.

“Just. Come. Out!” he groans again, burying his face into his pillow and pushing. All at once, the head pops free, the shoulders turning and slipping out with one final effort.

“Shit,” bringing them to his chest, he strokes a finger over their ruddy cheeks as they wail, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, forgive me.”

Mika “Push, Mika, you have to push.” the midwife busies herself between Mika’s trembling legs, giving the head dangling from his hole a gentle tug.

“Stop-Stop, don’t pull it!” he sobs, pushing despite the pain coursing throughout his aching stomach. All at once, the pressure ends, a screaming little boy placed to his heaving chest.

“Thank you...Archons thank you…”

Razor

The howl tears from his throat, raw and primal as another contraction rippled through his belly. A few wolves poked about, watching curiously as Razor bore down, bringing his pup into the world under the moon and stars. They plops onto the ground, bawling furiously, and Razor quickly brings them to his chest.

“Good pup...good lungs, cry...let the forest hear you.”

Venti

The scream tears through the tranquil night, shattering the peace. Naked and alone, Venti lets out another ear-splitting shriek as his child tears from his narrow hips and into his shaking hands. They flail about, crying and whimpering as Venti cuddles them close, singing a lullaby into their ear.

Baizhu

“Oh, Archons, have mercy-” skin ghostly white, hands clenched around his ankles, keeping his legs spread best he can, Baizhu struggles to push. His belly quivers with another contraction, sending him into a frenzied scream, his baby finally popping free.

“Dearest one- Oh, my little star,” he rambled, bringing the newborn to his chest, and wiping the muck of birth from their face, “Mother is here...I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

Chongyun

“Just...a little...more-!” voice muffled with the rag stuffed into his mouth, Chongyun groans loudly. His fingertips graze of the top of the head, pushing with all his strength and gasping as the head crowns fully into his palm. One last push, and it’s squalling loudly, coming to be held tightly in Chongyun’s arms.

“There...there you are, welcome home baby.”

Gaming “You’re so close darling, hang there a bit longer.” Gaming sobs, clutching his mother’s hand tightly.

“Push, push, you’ve got the head out, push Gaming.” she soothes, watching as her grandchild comes into the world with a loud wail, flailing arms and legs. She places the newborn to Gaming’s chest, and he wraps around her instantly,

“Daddy’s here, I’ve got you, Daddy’s here…”

Xiao

The storm rages just outside the cavern. Spear in hand, Xiao anchors himself to it, stabbing the blade into the dirt and holding tight as he bore down. His belly tightened, legs quivering, a strangled gasp leaving his mouth as he feels something large slide from his body. Swiftly, he lifts the child to his arms, marveling at their beauty.

“You’re safe, I’ll protect you, forever.”

Xingqui

“Don’t stop, keep pushing!” legs held back by the midwife, Xingqui wails, clutching at his belly. Each push brought him closer and closer to being done, but doubled the pain. He feels them ripping him open, forcing their way into the world, ready or not.

“Push!” she orders once more, and Xingqui does, mind going blank for a moment before he realizes there’s a squirming newborn on his chest.

“You...little brat...that hurt-”

Zhongli

Slow, heaven breaths, eyes closed in deep concentration. The feeling of his muscles contracting, inching his baby closer and closer to the world, his entrance opening wide, burning as the head starts to peak through.

A soft gasp, hands quivering ever so slightly as he reaches between his legs and lifts his offspring into view.

“What a powerful little one you are,” Zhongli chuckles, exhaustion seeping into his bones, “I’m so very proud of you.”

Arataki Itto

“Ah- fuck!” moaning deeply, Itto gives one last solid push. The tiny pointed horns of his newborn dragging along the tender skin as it emerges, ripping it open. Blood splatters onto the ground, but Itto pays no mind, bringing his precious little treasure to his chest.

“That...was one hell of an entrance kiddo..but didja have to hurt Daddy like that-”

Ayato “Breathe, brother, slow, deep breaths...in and out...yes, like that.” Ayaka presses a damp towel to her brother’s cheek, mindful not to peek under the sheets where the midwife was at work.

“Push, one last push!” closing his eyes and pressing his chin to his chest, Ayato bares down, crying out as the baby enters the world with an indignant warble.

“Give her to me.” he orders, uncaring of the mess left behind, snuggling them into the crook of his arm.

“Welcome…Mommy is so glad to meet you...”

Gorou

“Good job Gorou, just one more push!” two pups already latched to his milky breasts Gorou groans, barely giving any effort before the third of his litter drops into Kokomi’s eager hands.

“Two girls and a son! You did wonderful Gorou.” with a smile, she places the third babe between her siblings, snuffling and whining loudly at the lack of a teat to feed on. Laughing weakly, Gorou gives her back a gentle rub,

“One moment baby...Mama has plenty of milk for you too, don’t worry.”

Kazhua

“I told you, you should have stayed at the harbor!” Beidou cringes as Kazhua lets out another deep, guttural moan, and nearly drops at the sight of the head bulging between her friend’s legs.

“Oh Archons- I can see it!” a slow, even breath, and Kazuha moans loudly through the next push, sending his baby flopping out onto the bed below.

“What do I do with it-”

“Hand it to me.” Kazuha sighs, shaking his head as Beidou gingerly places the screaming infant to his chest. Brave as she is, nothing could have prepared her for witnesses her dear friend being split open.

“Hello little one, Papa is here…”

Heizou

“Oh fuck just get out, please!” pressing his hands atop his heaving belly, Heizou pushes, legs kicking out as the head bursts forth with a spray of blood and fluid. Once more, and it drops onto the sheets between his legs, squirming and furious.

“You...troublemaker.” he pants, bringing them closer, and inspecting them closely.

“You aren’t getting siblings. Ever.”

Thoma

“Oh- Archons- not on the floor-!” halfway from the bath to his bed, the urge to bare down overcomes him. Dropping to all fours, Thoma barely as the chance to reach around and catch the newborn as it plops right into his shaking grasp. Mindful of the cord connecting them, Thoma brings them to his chest, allowing them to latch right to his milk laden breast.

“Two minutes...just two more minutes and we wouldn’t have ruined the floor…”

Alhaitham

“Enough, is enough.” a full day had passed, and the scribe was far past through. The head was crowning, snugly resting between his legs, and with one final effort, fully emerges. Gasping and clawing at the blankets under him, AlHaitham bares down again with renewed determination, relief flooring them him as they enter the world with a shrill cry.

“You certainly took your sweet time, didn’t you?”

Cyno

Growling, deep and feral, Cyno braces himself against the temple wall. The floor under him damp with his waters, body soaked with sweat as he forces his unborn into the world. Sharp reflexes keeps the infant from falling to the ground, and Cyno carefully checks them.

“Ten fingers...ten toes...One whole baby.”

Kaveh

“You’re scaring the other patie-” another earth shattering scream fills the room, followed by a pitiful sob.

“Just get it out, I don’t want to do this anymore!”

“You have to push if you want it out, now, push!” the doctor was more than done with Kaveh’s noise, and was losing his composure over his unwillingness to cooperate. Kaveh does his best, struggling to sit up enough to leverage his body into baring down, screaming bloody murder the whole way.

“There! A girl!” the doctor puts her into Kaveh’s belly, drying her off as the architect babbles incoherently.

“It’s over-I did it-Oh Archons, oh-oh what do I do now-”

Sethos

The desert was his home, and it was where he felt safest. Bringing his baby into the world surrounded by the sand had never been a question of ‘if,’ but ‘when.’ A strong push, a wild scream, and the baby is resting in his hands, bloody and wailing. Chuckling weakly, and falling onto his back, Sethos lie there with them wailing against his chest for a few moments.

“Good work kiddo...good work.”

Tighnari

“Come...on-!” three little big eared kits slept peacefully in their cots, while their Tighnari struggled nearby with the surprise fourth. Coming nearly six hours after the other, and certain he was finished, Tighnari squats next to the cots, groaning as his last kit slides easily into his hands. Panting, he brings them to his chest, wrapping them with a nearby blanket for warmth.

“Don’t worry little one,” he soothes, “I won’t let them tease you for being the runt, I promise.”

Freminet

The water offers some solace as the baby begins to crown, the cool sea easing the burn. He pushes, groaning into the night air, relief flooding him as the baby slides into the water with a cloud of blood and fluid. Taking in a shaky breath, he brings them to his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of their head.

“Welcome to the world...Mama will keep you safe, I promise.”

Lyney

“Almost there, just a little more.” Lynnette whispers to her brother, holding his hand tightly as he bore down. He cries out, startled at the sensation of his child leaving his body.

“A boy, you have a son.” she whispers, handing the newborn to Lyney’s waiting hands. He swallows thickly, throat tight with emotion.

“Daddy’s here...you’ll always be safe with us...no one will ever hurt you.”

Neuvillette

Groaning, Neuvillette clings to the side of the tub with enough force to risk breaking the porcelain. His body felt as if it were being torn apart, and he’s grateful not a soul is around to hear the scream he releases as his child barrels into the world. With haste, he lifts them from the water, clutching their squirming form to his chest and nuzzling them gently.

“Don’t cry little one...You are safe and sound…”

Wrio

“Just...a little...more...come on…” he mumbles under his breath, eyes closed in focus as another contraction tears through him. A high scream, and he feels the weight in his pelvis drop, landing safely on the mattress. Opening his eyes, he blinks through years and spies the bloody little thing his body had kept warm and safe for the last nine months.

“Hey champ...welcome to the world.”

Tartaglia

“Shit!” being stabbed, beaten and nearly killed somehow didn’t compare to the sheer torture of having a baby push it’s way through his tight hole. Each push brings it closer to the world, and deepens the pain, but he doesn’t stop, not until he feels them slide careful into his bloodied hands.

“Gotcha...I gotcha kid, I got ya.”

Wanderer

Secluded and locked away from the rest of the world, he questions his own sanity. Why did he allow this parasite to grow off him? Why was he letting it torment him this way? Why was he pushing it out and screaming in pain and feeling all too lost and afraid.

“You...You…” he looks at the newborn's delicate face, screwed up and red as it wailed away, “What do I do with you...”

[theres-a-body-here]

Scumtober- Day 21 (Exsanguination)

Arthur Morgan x Reader Drabble

As you lay on the floor, blood seeping through your clothes, you couldn't help but think about how this all went to shit.

The job was supposed to go smoothly, but here you were, wounded and dying. O'Driscolls had caught you both by surprise when you entered the seemingly empty house. There was a scuffle as you and Arthur took them out; however, one of them managed to get in a shot before Arthur could blow their brains out.

You had taken a bullet straight to the lung; it was fatal. The pain was excruciating, and you could feel yourself slipping away slowly.

Arthur sat next to you, pressing his hands against the bullet hole in your chest, trying to stop the bleeding. His face was contorted to a mix of rage and agony as he begged, "Oh god, please don't die."

You struggled to speak through the pain, managing only a weak whisper, "Ar...th..."

Looking at you helplessly, Arthur cried out, "No! Don't say anything, dammit!" He grabbed your hand tightly, squeezing it hard enough to hurt even through the numbness.

As Arthur attempted to drag you to his horse, he realized the futility of the situation. With every movement, you let out a cry of pain and spat out blood. It dawned on him that he was causing more harm than good by attempting to move you like this. In despair, he released his grip and crouched back down beside you. He cradles your body in his arms as he looks defeated.

As you started to cough out blood once again, you whispered faintly, "I never expected to die in a home... or comfortably...".

"You won't die," Arthur growled through gritted teeth, his voice laced with desperation. "Just hang on...for me".

Whether you heard him or chose to ignore him, he'll never know. All he knew is that you seemed to not be in any pain at that point.

"But dying like this... isn't so bad." You finished hoarsely, leaning your head against his shoulder for comfort.

"Don't talk like that," Arthur pleaded, his voice breaking as tears streamed down his face. He pulled you closer, holding you with trembling hands. "Please, just stay alive."

You reached up to touch his face, smearing blood across his skin. He holds your hand to his face as he presses against it and closes his eyes.

After a while of silence, Arthur opens his eyes to find you with a expression of serenity.

As you gaze up at the sky, taking in each breath as if it might be your last, Arthur breaks down completely. He holds you closer, and you can feel his heart pounding wildly against yours. The warmth of his body provides some small comfort amidst the cold that settling into yours.

"I love you. Never doubt that, yeah?" Arthur said through heavy sobs, holding you close.

"love you....too," you managed to choke out, feeling your breath growing shallower by the minute.

Arthur leaned down and kissed your forehead tenderly, tears rolling off his nose onto your skin.

"Promise me something," he whispered. "If there's a heaven, wait for me there, alright? I'll find ya somehow."

With great effort, you nodded, closing your eyes as you began to feel sleepy. You closed your eyes for the last time, letting the darkness claim you.

The last thing you hear is wails of agony as Arthur clings to your cold body.

Scumtober 2023 Masterlist

[ravenssilver]

Phantom/Aeon waking up from a nightmare while rolling with someone and craves comfort but is too scared to ask for it?

mmm aeon angst.. my favorite👹

1k words of aeon having a reoccurring nightmare and being too nervous to outright ask for comfort.

cw: nightmare of the Pit, detailed summoning process from aeon’s pov, aeon continues to be traumatized, more of my aeon lore and a bit of how i see the pit :)

under the cut if you please<3

Darkness.

Deep, deep darkness.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.

It was all he remembered before he felt it.

Cold. He felt extremely cold. His feet planted on something every time he stepped forward. The ground was almost soft, but it made him sick every time his felt his feet sink into it.

He tripped after a few minutes of wandering, looking behind him and down at the ground, only to see a bone.

A sickly feeling bubbled in his throat as he looked a few feet to the right, squinting through the darkness just to seeing bits and pieces of the skeleton that the bone was a part of.

He quickly turned around again and began running, trying to ignore the dizziness in his skull as he felt a sharp, painful tug in his soul.

He ran and ran and ran, eventually falling to his knees and sobbing when the pain in his chest was too much to bear.

Then, he was choking, like all the little oxygen in the Pit had been sucked away. He clawed at his throat, coughing and heaving in the dust of the wasteland around him into his lungs.

He felt the ice cold wind suddenly be evaporated into steam as his skin burned with the heat of a thousand suns, Aeon choking out a cry of agony as he planted a hand on the flesh-like material under him. Sweat escaped his pores, dripping off of his nose as he trembled and tried to heave in the oxygen that was absent from his surroundings.

His eyes rolled back after an excruciating minute and a half, his body going limp and collapsing onto the sickly soft ground.

His consciousness faded. Though, not before he felt a sudden grab of his ankle as he was yanked-

Aeon gasped as he jolted awake, a choked sound of surprise leaving him as he fell off the edge of his bed. He grunted as he hit the cold floor of his room, still tied up in his blankets.

His lilac eyes darted around the room for a moment before he slowly sat up, feeling the fear and adrenaline coursing through his system as he thought about the nightmare he had just woken up from.

Then the tears started.

Aeon didn’t want to go back to the Pit. He didn’t even want to think about it. He had a life with his new pack. He was happy.

So why couldn’t he shake that damn dream?

Aeon slowly rose to his feet after fighting to get free from the blankets. His legs shook as he tried to get his wits about him, holding back his whimpers and cries so only his shadow casted by the moon would hear.

He laid back down in his cold bed, curling up into himself with a shaky sigh as he closed his eyes, only to snap them open again as he was met with the vision of the Pit.

Aeon swallowed harshly and rolled onto his back, staring up at his ceiling.

He wanted someone from his pack. Dewdrop, Mountain, Aurora would’ve been just fine. But no.. he wanted Swiss.

Of course, wanting was what got him to that damn wasteland in the first place. Constantly searching, finding, and taking things that he simply wanted in his human life was what got him under Mammon’s control.

That is until Copia saved him.

With that damned summoning ritual.

Aeon shivered as he thought about the air that had been stolen from his lungs, which he learned was courtesy of Cirrus and Cumulus providing their element to Copia’s ritual.

He remembered how he got a preview of Dew’s anger and initial hatred for him when he felt heat that only fire could bring spreading over him. Heat that was prosperous on earth. Fire that Aeon once longed for in the barren wasteland. The sweat that only Rain’s element of water could provide in Limbo. The way his body went stiff like the bark of a tree, Mountain’s element tied with Rain and Dewdrop’s.

Aeon wanted Swiss. Badly.

The multi was the only one who hadn’t participated in Aeon’s trauma. He didn’t help with the ritual that quite literally killed him again before dragging him kicking and screaming Topside.

Swiss was his safety when he could finally open his half-blinded eyes again.

But he didn’t want to be seen as weak.

All the other ghouls got over their summoning. Aurora was over it to the best of Aeon’s knowledge, so why wasn’t Aeon over his own?

Aeon shook his head and got out of bed, walking on wobbly legs out of his room and to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

Though, as he walked into the kitchen, he saw Swiss standing there on his phone as the microwave hummed. Aeon froze dead in his tracks, his bloodshot eyes widening as he saw a slightly blurry outline of Swiss.

“Hey, honeybat,” Swiss smiled as he glanced at Aeon, only to do a quick double take. “Woah… are you okay?” Swiss asked, setting his phone down on the island counter and walking over to Aeon. Aeon sighed shakily, knowing he couldn’t lie to Swiss no matter how badly he wanted to.

The smaller ghoul shook his head, keeping his eyes set on Swiss’ chest as to avoid eye contact.

“Nightmare?” Swiss asked, gently cupping Aeon’s jaw and lifting his head so he could look into Aeon’s lilac eyes. Aeon sniffled and nodded. “The same one.” He muttered.

Swiss frowned and pulled Aeon into a hug.

“You floaty?” Swiss asked softly, knowing Aeon sometimes got in his own head and went back to the Pit mentally. “I was for a minute. I’m okay now.” Aeon mumbled, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Swiss’ neck.

Swiss nodded, slipping his clawed fingers into Aeon’s shaggy hair and gently massaging. Swiss began breathing deeply, silently instructing Aeon to follow his actions and breathe with him.

Aeon subconsciously followed his actions, lulling himself into an almost half-asleep state. Swiss kissed at the base of Aeon’s horn.

“You’re here with me, honeybat. You’re warm, you’re breathing just fine. You’re here.” Swiss whispered, squeezing Aeon just the slightest bit more to help ground him in the moment.

Aeon sighed in relief and relaxed even more in Swiss’ hold, finding his eyes slipping shut as Swiss held him in a way that was nothing but loving and protective.

He was there. Aeon was standing there, in the kitchen with Swiss.

He’s okay.

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #52: Anodyne

Masterlist

content: referenced gore

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

It was the worst pain he had ever felt. His insides seared like they were cooking, long after the skin healed, long after all the blood on the closet floor dried and went black-brown. The side of his face was on fire. The bitter sting of salt and copper cauterized his tongue, the roof of his mouth, the back of his throat. Jackie had never considered himself claustrophobic, but the closet was like a packing crate, narrow and pitch-black. After starting awake, he could not shut up. Though he longed to fall back asleep, just to escape the agony, he could only sob uncontrollably and bang his head against the door.

He hadn't been talking back or trying to run or even ignoring her. Heather had wanted to do it. He could hear it in her voice. He’d done nothing wrong. If he could crawl out of his skin like a cicada, if he could shed his body—he would die a thousand times over for that chance. He would die in her arms, a thousand times over. Waste every life, each dying breath on her lips. She had pinned him in place, so close to her. He had stopped thrashing, eventually, and she kept—he could feel it, everything she did, a kind of filth that festered and kept in place, regardless of how much he begged and screamed. He didn’t understand why. It wasn’t his fault. It just hurt so much, he couldn’t think straight. He could still smell the wine, the fermented cherry, the sweet smell of rot.

He felt nauseous. But he couldn’t make a mess in her closet, or this agony would come back seven times worse. He couldn’t focus his thoughts on anything. It was too much. He could not think beyond it, his skin, the warmth of her hands inside him, the feeling of her knife, the pressure in his mouth. He hated her. He would make her regret this. 

Such sweet fantasies. Another sob racked his body. He was alone, alone, again, all alone, locked in the closet, in the darkness again. The pain would fade. The pain had started to fade, a little. But his hunger was just beginning to return, and it was so dark, and he couldn’t move at all. 

Eventually, he started to feel tired, and his sobs came in starts and stops. He would fall silent, only to remember the way she’d held him down, and he would begin again. Jackie only went completely quiet when the door opened.

He forced himself to concentrate on her expression, preparing for what came next. Heather was confused, oddly enough. 

“Why are you crying?” she asked. “Why are you in my closet? And why is there blood everywhere? I just cleaned, too…”

She didn’t remember anything. Too much wine, he figured. She might let me out. I need to get out of this closet. I need to be perfect. “You locked me in here. Last night.”

“And you complied? Why didn’t you stop me?”

He sniffed. The tears still rolled down his face. “You had a knife. And I’m supposed to do whatever you say, right? I wasn’t supposed to ask questions.”

“I was drunk, Jackie. That’s obviously an exception. You shouldn't have agreed to it.”

“Then why did you punish me for disagreeing with you?” I need to shut up, he thought. But that was like asking a dog to remove its teeth. “You tried to bludgeon me with a fucking pipe!” 

“Did you think I was being serious? I was proving a point. I didn’t actually hit you.”

He was shaking now. “You killed Callaghan! For no reason! He was your professor!”

And Jackie burst into tears again with his head buried in his arms. He didn’t care. He didn’t care anymore. He couldn’t go on like this. 

“I couldn’t let Callaghan get involved. That was his own fault.” But her voice was duller and quieter as she spoke.

Jackie was barely hearing her. Those words were nothing but noise. He was inconsolable, crying so hard it was making him dizzy. Curled in on himself, as if that would protect him.

“Jackie?” Heather said his name, not with spite, but with startled hesitation. He could not reply for the life of him, so she called his name again. “Jackie? Don’t cry. You’re going to make yourself sick.”

Why did she bother? She didn’t care about him. He wasn’t paying attention at all, anymore.

This went on for a while, before Heather approached him. “Come on, Jack. Stop that.” His stare darted up, and he could see her hand lifted soothingly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“No. No! Get away from me!” He scrambled farther back into the closet. “Stop! Don’t. Stop. Please. Please, don’t—don’t touch me. Please.”

“Hey. Shh.” Her tone was, all of a sudden, calming. “Don’t worry. I don’t have a knife. See?” She held up both her hands in a placating gesture. “I don’t want to hurt you. I didn’t even mean to stab you. I’m sure it was a misunderstanding. But you need to get out of my closet, and I don’t think you’re in any state to walk on your own.”

There was nowhere left to back away, nowhere left to run. He was cornered and completely at her mercy. “Why did you lock me in here? I did everything right! I was behaving! I did everything you t—told me, you weren't—you weren't listening, you wouldn't s—stop, you kept—"

She knelt down before him. “It's okay. It's fine.” She wiped his cheeks with a steady gesture. “You are behaving.” Then she put her hands on his shoulders. “You are behaving, Jackie. I still love you. I’m sorry I did that. It was the wine, alright? I didn’t mean it.”

He shuddered and choked down his tears. Now he was just hyperventilating. 

When Heather wrapped her arms around him, he leaned into the touch, and when she lifted him up, he said nothing in complaint.

“There you go.” They stood like that. Heather propping him up, and Jackie leaning on her to stay upright. “That’s good. Come on, you'll be fine.”

He stared at the bloodstained rug and said nothing. What was the time? Evening? Afternoon? The window was open, but he couldn’t focus on anything. Dark clouds gathered outside. He thought he could see rain. From inside the closet, time lost its presence. It was too scattered to parse. But it had to be late in the day, if she wasn’t sick from the alcohol anymore. 

They were now beside the bed. She helped him sit down on the clean new sheets.

“You’re alright. You’re safe.” She sat next to him, brushing her hand through his hair. “I’m here. You’re mine, Jackie. You’ll always be.”

Perhaps that concept was meant to be comforting. Perhaps it was comforting, in a way. He could stop fighting it. His heart appeared to buzz, not beat, like the heart of a small animal caught in a fist, twisting and wearing itself out until it went still. 

“Your shirt is torn,” she said.

He coughed. After everything, his throat was in a bad state.

“It’s okay,” she murmured. "It's fine. I'll get you a new one. Go to sleep.”

He obeyed the order and put his head on the pillow. His breathing slowed. The citrus scent of her skin. The soft silk of her hair, falling over her face. Her freckles in his peripheral. He would never forget these things. Even if he outlived her by a thousand lifetimes. Even if he outlived everyone. In that way, she was immortalized. Kept alive by memory, bound by his dreams.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl @lthrboy @whumpy-wyrms @yassifiedinformation @creppersfunpalooza

@vidawhump @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @inkwell-and-dagger @neverthelass