#Weaver-writes-things

[fistfuloflightning]

He had his father’s directions to Gusu, but the journey was longer than he thought. He had gotten lost again and again, guided back by the weasel spirits Wen Qing and Wen Ning, had been given spiritual gifts from the tree spirit Xiao Xingchen, had been given food by the eager wolf-dog Jin Ling.

But when he arrived in the mountains, Lan Sizhui realized all that meant nothing, as he did not know how to reach the city in the clouds. He did not have Lan Wangji’s ability to summon clouds nor would Bichen respond to him the way it had to his mother. Helpless, he found himself staring longingly into the sky.

A great gust of wings and Wei Wuxian landed beside him in a whirlwind of black and white and scarlet. “Uncle! You followed me,” Lan Sizhui said in surprise.

The crane bent his long neck to look into the boy’s eyes. “Did you think I would not? I hatched alongside your father’s river, have guarded it and him, and cherish him like a brother. Do not think I would not protect his son when he is unable to.”

Lan Sizhui felt like a little boy again, taking his first steps with his hand fisted in his uncle’s feathers, wobbly and uncertain, and felt that all over again. Relying on Wei Wuxian’s strength to keep himself moving forward.

Lan Sizhui returned his face to the billowing, gold-touched clouds high above. Somewhere hidden in them was the great city his mother had left to see the world below, and had returned to a captive. “I have been given aid to get here, and gifts, but all of it would be for nothing if I cannot sprout wings.”

Wei Wuxian clacked his beak in thought.

“I will take you,” he decided. “It was I who first urged your mother to leave the Cloud Recesses to visit the world below, despite her being forbidden from doing so. Never before have I cherished the consequences of my actions so dearly.” The crane touched his scarlet forehead against Lan Sizhui’s.

The boy gripped Bichen tightly, steeling himself. His mother was waiting. “Very well. I do not know what waits for me above, but at least I have a fierce protector in you, Uncle.”

“Always.”

Gripping his shoulders securely, Wei Wuxian carried him into the sky. And with every great wingbeat, Lan Sizhui could feel himself grow closer to his mother, her presence like a bright beacon.

[poetryorchard]

🦇 Sprites of the Orchard! Nashira here with a spooky new set of prompts~

🎃 All month long, we'll be running themed workshops as well as an open mic for you to share your spooky poems!

🧡 Tag @poetryorchard + #PoemsThatGoBump and we'll share your work :)

[sleeps-au-bag]

akechi took up baking in the years he's stayed with the tenmas. at first it was just repayment for them celebrating his first birthday with them by attempting to make a cake for tsukasa's birthday. it wasn't that very good and he was quite honestly ashamed of it, but tsukasa said he loved it because it was made by him. akechu thought he was getting soft too quickly because something sparked in him and ever since then, he's been baking almost every week.

every chance he gets, he bakes. of course he's learned how to cook food but baking is where his talent lies. and maybe he has gone soft but seeing the smiles on the faces of his little brothers and sisters make it all worth it. he'll spend late night and very early mornings making only the best for them.

maybe akechi has gone soft, but he finds that he doesn't mind as long as it's for them.

the fool arcana hums with life.

[whump-in-the-closet]

Liberosis

cw: trophy showing, broken leg, public humiliation, caged, dehumanization, implied past torture (let me know if i should add anything!)

shoutout to @kira-the-whump-enthusiast for beta-reading, ergo saving me from many embarrassing typos!

~To Make a Villain~

previous

“Get up.”

Wyn did as he was told, keeping a hand on the wall for support. His knee threatened to give out on him. Maybe, he thought bitterly, Guillotine shouldn’t have let her idiot henchman use a fucking crowbar.

He didn’t say that out loud, however. No, he kept his mouth shut and his eyes on the ground. He didn’t look at Guillotine, standing in the doorway, so he focused on the tiny metallic threads in the tiles. He didn’t have to look to know she was smiling.

“Have you learned your lesson?” The question was drawn out, meant to make Wyn flinch under the wash of memories: sleepless nights filled with relentless pain, bright lights that held no relief, and worse, worse yet– the burning, throbbing ache lingering on his arm–

Wyn didn’t want to remember. “Yeah.”

“Good. I want to show you something.” A pause. “Scythe. Look at me when I talk to you.”

Wyn’s nails dug into the wall, his knuckles turning white with tension. He looked at Guillotine, holding her gaze for mere seconds before dropping back down to the floor. He couldn’t do it. He never wanted to look another person in the eyes again.

Guillotine raised an eyebrow. “Fine. That will do for now.” She beckoned for him to follow and, limping, he did as she expected. Pain shot up his leg and he stumbled, barely catching himself on the doorframe of his room– cell, really–, and he caught sight of the others in the hall.

Suddenly, he very much wanted to be sick.

In the hall there were people. People he had worked with, people he knew. These were people who had once feared him. Villains who envied his position as Guillotine’s protege. Well, there wouldn't exactly be any envy in their expressions when they saw him now.

Wyn cursed, his heart flinging itself against his ribs like it was a trapped bird and his bones a cage. He pressed his forehead against the cold metal of the door frame, his mind reeling. There was no getting out of this.

Guillotine was going to make him walk, limp, out where everyone could see. And they would whisper and pity him and talk about how the mighty had fallen and how he had it coming and–

“Scythe.” There was an edge to Guillotine’s voice and Wyn straightened. One deep breath, and then another. He stepped into the hallway filled with cold eyes, leaning on the wall for support.

The silence was deafening. Wyn followed Guillotine, moving as fast as he could without putting any weight on his damaged leg. He could feel the eyes on him and ignored them as best he could.

The whispers were a bit harder to ignore.

“That’s the Scythe?”

“Doesn’t look so proud now, does he?”

“He never learns.”

Wyn flushed. He could practically feel his ears turning red. And Guillotine was smiling as she held the door open for him. Suppressed rage rose inside of him, forming into hard words and the bitter wish to stab everyone in the hall.

He hated them. But he hated the room he entered even more. Guillotine’s throne room. Said throne was on a stone dais, the stones intricately carved. Torches were set at irregular intervals throughout the entire hall and they filled the empty darkness with flickering red and gray. Distorted shadows coated the walls, smoothing the rough edges and reaching up to the ceiling. But that was not what Wyn was paying attention to. He couldn’t have cared less about the torches, though he thought briefly about knocking them over and starting a fire. The hall was filled with people, whispers and laughter echoing in the darkness.

Guillotine had left him and taken her seat on her throne. She had left him to stare at the cage at the foot of her throne, just below the dais.

The world split out of focus. Spinning, spinning, spinning. Guillotine had told him Splinter had left. She had said Splinter, the city’s precious hero, had walked out the moment she let them.

So why, why on everything that was sacred, did the person in the cage look so terribly familiar?

Guillotine leaned down to peer at the luckless captive. “Yes, aren’t they a pretty little thing?” She kicked the top of the cage and her retinue laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

Splinter, the hero, didn’t look so very heroic anymore.They were crouched as far back in the cage as possible. And whenever someone came close, they shrank back.

Wyn stumbled forward, stepping on his bad leg and instantly regretting it. The pain in his leg, before a dull ache, flared to life. He hissed, doubling over. If there was any doubt before, there was none now: his leg was broken. There was a long moment of his entire existence being wrapped in pain.

When he straightened, the crowd was tight around Splinter’s cage and the laughter painfully loud.

Wincing with each step, he made his way through the mass of people. All he could hear was the dull thudding of his racing heartbeat. His leg hurt– and he was sure he wasn’t thinking coherently anyway– but he was almost positive this was some test of Guillotine’s.

And he hated it.

The crowd of people shifted and in the torchlight, he caught a glimpse of Splinter. It was, assuredly, the hero. Even if they no longer had their mask, their green hair, matted and blood-stained though it was, erased any hope it was someone else. Across one of their eyebrows, there was a shallow cut and bruises on their cheekbone. Fistwork. There were bags under their eyes so dark they looked like shadows.

Wyn froze, feeling sick.

The torches flickered.

The crowd shifted yet again and Wyn found himself pushed against the cage.

“Splinter?” He hadn’t realized he had said their name when the hero stiffened. They turned and caught sight of him. They paled.

“I’m sorry,” Wyn whispered. The words seemed pathetic, even to him. “I’m sorry.” After everything, and then this, that was all he could offer?

And still, the torches flickered.

“That’s not my name,” said Splinter. Their voice was hoarse, the words rough. A far cry from their usual sharp banter.

Wyn had never hated Guillotine as much as he did then. He looked up, meeting Splinter’s eyes and then focusing on the floor again. “What is your name?” It felt beyond wrong to ask that.

A soft exhale. Pieces of green hair cut through their vision. “Ross. She won’t make a villain out of me.” They gingerly touched the cut on their eyebrow, their expression darkening. “She can try but she won’t be able to do what she did–” Ross abruptly broke off.

Wyn knew what they were going to say anyway.

She won’t be able to do what she did to you.

“I’m Wyn,” he said. He didn’t know what else to say. The throbbing in his leg, momentarily distracted, came back with a vengeance. His head began to ache.

“You’re a good person, Wyn.”

Wyn almost missed what they said.

And then Guillotine called for Scythe to come stand by her side and raise a glass to the defeat of the city’s heroes.

Wyn drew away from the cage and somehow managed to climb the dais. He stood next to Guillotine and thought about how absolutely wrong Ross was.

He was not a good person.

Not in the slightest.

taglist: @whumpawink @kira-the-whump-enthusiast (let me know if you want to be added!)

[pirateborn]

i love writing roger he rly is just a fun guy to write,

[pirateborn-a]

apologies for absence,,,, i may be being a little silly,,,,,,,

[jonnywaistcoat]

I'm really glad to see that everyone seems to be having a good time with The Magnus Protocol, and my heart is very full with all the wonderful comments people are making, but I do need to flag something up.

For some of these episodes, a lot of folks are giving me credit for stuff I did not actually write. The cases for episodes 3 and 4 were both by guest writers, Graeme Patrick and Cole Weavers respectively, and they really deserve some love thrown their way.

That's not to minimise my own part: me and Alex certainly do editing work on them, and add in a few bits here and there to make sure everything cohesively fits in with the overall story and tone of the show, but if you enjoyed these episodes, then Graeme and Cole are the ones to thank for it.

And for that matter, Alex wrote episode 2 and deserves more of the accolades for how good that one was than I think he got (my edits just made it a bit... squishier).

Protocol is much more of a team effort than Archives was and so while, in a broad sense, you can still lay most of the blame for bad things happening to characters you love squarely at my feet, it's genuinely important to pay attention to the "written by" section of the credits this time around, 'cause often it's not gonna be my name there, and someone else deserves the thanks for giving you a horrible treat.

[folkloresthings]

❛ THUNDERSTRUCK ❜ ❨ charles leclerc x dcc!reader ❩

where ferarri’s golden boy is in love with america’s sweetheart and doesn’t care what anyone has to say about it.

faceclaim: reece weaver.

… based loosely off of this request and my current obsession after binging the dcc documentary

INSTAGRAM.

liked by dccheerleaders, charles_leclerc, and 837,922 others

yourusername AHH!! so so so happy to announce that i’ll be returning for another year as a dallas cowboys cheerleader 💙 it’s my favourite job in the world and i couldn’t dream of doing anything else. see you on the field!!!

view all 521,446 comments

user my fav girl after watching the doc on netflix!!!

dccheerleaders can’t wait for game day! 💙🏈📣

⤷ yourusername go cowboys!!!!

user is there going to be a season 2?

user what is mister charles leclerc doing in the likes

⤷ user america’s sweethearts/drive to survive crossover?

charles_leclerc 💙💙💙

⤷ user HELLO????

TWITTER.

INSTAGRAM.

liked by carlossainz55, franciscagomez and 890,482 others

yourusername tune in today to watch us represent texas at the annual USA formula 1 grand prix! 🏎️ what’s harder: driving cars at 120mph or the thunderstruck choreo?

view all 700,019 comments

scuderiaferrari you guys definitely win the difficulty contest

⤷ user dcc could race f1 but the drivers could never do the jump splits

user is she there w charles????

user you guys are obsessed, they’re probably not even dating

⤷ user i hope not, he suited girls like alex and charlotte so much more

landonorris me watching the pre-race performance 🤯🤯🤯

user okay i’m not a fan of her but that dancing???? holy shit she’s talented

⤷ user right??? those high kicks were fire

charles_leclerc i have, indeed, been thunderstruck

⤷ yourusername all the way to P1, i hope

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 1,739,183 others

charles_leclerc bring your (beautiful, talented, badass, kind, yeehaw) girlfriend to work day and she’ll become your good luck charm

view all 801,443 comments

user NOOO 💔 one win, one loss

carlossainz55 congrats bro!!! but you should’ve done the hairography on podium

⤷ user carlos knows what hairography is 😭

user he really shut you all down lmao

yourusername MY CHAMP! love you 🩷🩷🩷

⤷ user awwww they are cute you gotta admit

liked by rebeccadonaldson, lilymunihe and 1,309,433 others

yourusername swapped blue for red for a day ❤️

view all 707,375 comments

user they’re growing on me

redbullracing come visit us next time and you can wear blue 😉

⤷ scuderiaferrari she’s ours!!!!

⤷ dccheerleaders maybe we should change our uniforms to red?

user she’s so cute

⤷ user right 🥹 you could hear her cheering for charles at the podium

⤷ user you could hear her accent too 😁

charles_leclerc my southern belle ❤️❤️❤️

⤷ yourusername yeehaw 🤠

🗞️ this wasn’t exactly what the original anon asked for but i wanted to write a dcc reader for weeeeeks and the ask finally gave me the change so i tweaked some things 😁😁😁

[homunculus-argument]

Why is it always "born in the wrong generation"? What if this is the better option you got? What if you were born to be a 1950s lounge singer or a 1300s weaver and already had a lifetime of that, doing what you love to do and what you do best, and spent the whole time thinking "I wish I could do this in a better time, where I could do it more freely from the bottom of my heart, and not have to worry about the things that hold me back"?

You get to make soap with ingredients the soapmakers a thousand years ago could not have dreamed of combining. You get to work with fabrics an ordinary tailor could never have gotten their hands on. Write the gayest love poetry in iambic pentameter without having to worry of being tried for sodomy. Hell, you could have eight kids and bake bread while barefoot without worrying how many of your runts survive to adulthood.

You can draw designs for stained glass windows that the church would never let you, and instead of thinking how your talents would have been groundbreaking back in the day and how they are wasted now, you can imagine how a thousand years ago you may have been drawing the same designs, thinking "I wish I could just do this without having to worry about viking raids and the plague."

[apricops]

me, every time: Sometimes I get too caught up in trying to be ‘clever’ or get so deep in world-building that I forget about the actual plot and characters. So y’know what, I’m just gonna do something silly and self-indulgent this time. I’m just gonna write a BL about a wolfboy and his effeminate scholarly boyfriend.

me, every time, 1 hour later: oh I’m definitely making a world map for this

me, every time, 2 hours later: the tapestry represents a beautiful but impossible fantasy that we can go back in time to undo the terrible things that happened to us. But while the master-weaver was designing it, she was so absorbed in this image of ‘what could have been,’ imagining her lost husband, that she struggles to take care of her son, who...

[bloodrvvvsh]

Come Into My Bedroom. | Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Synopsis: Taking care of your lover’s long hair for him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader

Warnings: None! This is entirely nothing but fluff. Established relationship, pet names (sweetheart), long haired Reid, very brief mention of drugs

Word count: 0.6K

Notes: I am a lover of Jesus Reid and nothing can stop me. This idea came to me as soon as I woke up and I’ve been itching to write it all day since

You were humming softly along to the music that filled the air, Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now by The Smiths, as your fingers ran through the ends of Spencer’s hair. Spencer had always been such a The Smiths fan and you had grown fond of the band in the time of you two dating.

He was sitting between your legs on the floor while you sat on the couch. He turned his head, peering over his shoulder at you. “Are you sure about this?” he asked softly and you couldn’t help but beam a smile at him.

“Of course I’m sure,” you replied. In reality, you had been dreaming about doing this ever since his hair got long enough.

You adored his long hair. He looked so handsome with it in your opinion. The only problem was that between his long case hours and now after being shot in the knee, he didn’t always have the time to take care of it properly. Lucky for him, you were there to take care of it for him.

You had helped him wash it, taking your time to really scrub his scalp and messaging the conditioner through his hair, and now after letting it dry, you were going to brush it. You continued to hum, a smile that hadn’t weavered since you began still on your face.

“Tell me if I'm hurting you, okay?” you said and he gave a small nod in response. Hairbrush in hand, you raked it through the ends of his hair. 

The feeling of your hands in his hair never failed to get to Spencer. It didn’t really matter what you were doing - playing with the strands, washing it, brushing it, it didn’t matter. It all left a fuzzy feeling in Spencer’s chest.

You were probably the best thing that ever happened to him, ever. You were always so patient and kind with him, going out of your way to do such nice things for him. Like now.

He loved you more than anything.

“Did you know that each strand of hair can contain small amounts of fourteen different elements, including gold?”

“Oh, really?” You were one of the few people he had ever met that actually enjoyed listening to him ramble. He smiled softly, glancing back at you over his shoulder again. “What else?”

He shifted slightly, hands falling to his lap as he absentmindedly fidgeted with them. “Your hair contains everything that has been in your bloodstream, including medicine, drugs, minerals, and vitamins. Drugs can actually be detectable for approximately ninety days in the hair, while it’s generally only detectable for one to seven days in urine.”

“Wow,” you breathed out. “That’s kind of crazy, don’t you think?” You moved the hair hanging over his shoulders towards you and raked the brush through.

He could feel you tugging at sections of his hair, making his head tilt back slightly. “The average person has about 100,00 strands of hair on their hair. Blondes have the highest amount on average at 146,00, while redheads have the least at 86,000.”

“Sounds like a lot of hair,” you murmured. You were almost done, just a few more finishing touches..

“There!” you chirped as you finished tightening the ribbon. “I’m done!” You reached out for the mirror sitting to your left and offered it to Spencer. Your teeth caught your bottom lip as you watched his expression carefully.

He gently pulled the braid over his shoulder, running his fingers along the twisted strands of his hair, stopping at the pink ribbon tied into a bow at the end. A smile tugged at his lips at the sight. He glanced back at you once more and your heart nearly melted at the look on his face.

“It’s stunning, sweetheart,” he said softly and your grin split across your face so wide your cheeks began to ache. You cupped his cheeks in the palm of your hands and pressed your lips to his, sighing softly into the sweet kiss.

You were going to have to braid his hair more often.

[moonsaver]

thinking about yan!sunday trying to improve things with his darling who almost completely shut off from him after being "taken away". trying to get them to communicate with him again, to lower their walls a little; even when they refuse to say a word while he's around, when they avoid meeting his gaze, when they recoil from his touch. in his mind, if he just makes enough of an "effort", his darling will come around and their dynamic can go back to the way it was before… but unfortunately, that "effort" will never extend as far as him giving them their freedom - the one thing they want and need more than anything

Honestly yes. Ive only briefly touched on this subject in a few of my works like the bathing with sunday one, but thats it. Im ashamed i never write the more affectionate parts of him as a yandere because i love those parts the most about yanderes.

Sunday is still such a deeply caring man. He hates having your freedom taken away, but it's safer. Your golden cage is a cage but he makes sure you don't even see the bars. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear when you wake up beside him. His hands are almost revering when he bathes you, touching your skin like it's precious golden thread in a weaver's skilled hands, feather light kisses trace your nape. He combs out your wet hair so lovingly, gently taking apart knots and drying it with a thick towel, asking you if you like the new shampoo. He tries so hard to make it more of a normal relationship than what it really is, because in the end he truly does love you so much.

And when you flinch, when you recoil, when you spit retorts back at him – he's not angry, or disappointed. He's hurt. His wings lower when you yell at him, he doesn't know what to do with his hands – you've denied them the sacrilege of your skin. What good are they now? And he's so heartbroken in a sense. You don't look at him, you stop talking to him, and he swears he'll go insane. The tremor in his voice is inaudible to you, but he's restraining himself from buckling down to his knees at your feet and begging you to let him love you and be loved. He doesn't want to force this. He wants normalcy. But it's extremely hypocritical of him to want that. He knows it.

He won't let you go, not after everything he's done to have you right where he wants you. And you know that. You know despite how hard he makes it for you to hate him, he won't ever truly love you unless he sets you free. He's afraid this dilemma is often one that parts relationships of all kind. That Charmony dove was beautiful. And so are you.

[ya-zz]

Hello, if you're taking requests currently could I request the overwatch guys: Ramatra, Genji, Hanzo, Magua, Life Weaver, Cassidy and Lúcio taking care of a fem reader on her time of the month if you write for any of them?

-sincerely a reader suffering cramps <3

Sorry this took awhile to get to, but hopefully this will suffice 💜 I’m also doing this from my phone so apologies if formatting is off

RAMATTRA

Like most arrogant omnics, he didn’t care at first.

It was just another weak, human thing that didn’t concern him.

But when it came down to you, he softened up and offered to help when he could.

He knows your cycle and everything that comes with it.

He’s done his research, wanting to make the days go by quickly and comfortable for you.

The few days before when your mood is low and you feel lethargic, Ramattra would bundle you up in a blanket and put your favourite movie on.

Everything was prepared afterwards. Hot water bottle for the cramps, your favourite snacks and drink on standby for when you needed them.

If you needed space, he’d oblige… sort of. He’d be in the same room, but distance himself from you.

If you needed more products, he’d get them for you, already knowing which were your preferred coverage.

Ramattra would snuggle up to you at night and warm himself up so you were comfortable.

Should you happen to leak, he’d clean up, no questions asked.

He’d help you through it all, despite the mood swings putting him on edge sometimes.

GENJI

He’s had his fair share of mood swings with the females he had dated, but he was more than happy to make sure you were okay during your time of the month.

Genji didn’t rely on dates, he relied on your mood.

He was quick with making sure you were comfortable before moving away from you to give you space.

When your arms would open up to him, he would scurry over and hold you until you told him to let go.

You were, in theory, in charge.

If you needed something, food, water, products, he’d get them in a heart beat.

Movie nights were a must, Genji swore by them and while they did help you forget about the pain, it was nice to be close to him.

Your favourite takeout would be ordered for the perfect night in.

He would also, somehow, get you out of the house for a little while. A small walk for some fresh air helped immensely on the bad days.

The ninja stayed with you as much as you would allow him to, and yes, he did tease you about your mood swings when it was all over.

HANZO

Calendars were made for a reason, and alongside birthdates and events, a small dot to signify the start of your period was on there.

He’d put it in his phone too, just in case he was away.

If it happened to be irregular, he’d rely on your mood, just like his brother would.

Hanzo would grow softer, hands massaging your shoulders when you sat with him.

The bathroom would always be fully stocked too, never seeming to run out of your products.

The archer had reserved a cupboard in the kitchen for your favourite snacks for this exact moment, bringing you what you needed whenever you asked.

Hot water bottles were filled when required, and when they eventually grow warm, Hanzo would gently rub his own hands over the pain.

Hanzo would do anything you asked of him, even if it was as simple as turning the light off because you were in the perfect position in bed.

MAUGA

First time writing anything Mauga so shhh

He’s staying with you throughout it all.

Protest as much as you want, he ain’t leaving.

Hot water bottle?? Not needed, his hands are hot enough.

He’d let you lay on him at all hours of the day if you wanted.

His hand would soothe over your head when you’re in pain and teary eyed from how bad it is.

He’d tease you over your mood swings, wanting to get a rise out of you because you look “so damn cute.”

Mauga would do anything to take your mind off of it all.

You name it, he’d do it.

He loves you that much he’d kill for you.

He’s one for overbuying snacks and drinks like this would last longer than a month so there’s always extra food laying around for later.

He’s not one to shy away from buying products should you need them, either.

So long as you’re comfortable with him, he’s happy to be there with you through it all.

LIFEWEAVER

He’s always prepared.

Doesn’t matter if it’s on time or irregular, he’s there with everything you need.

Extra blankets and pillows were pulled out so you were comfy in bed or on the sofa.

Products were always fully stocked in the bathroom and he’d even carry some whenever you went out just in case.

He’d always stay composed when your mood changed quickly, instantly bringing you back to a calm state of mind.

He was careful and gentle, not wanting to make it worse for you.

Niran would ask to cuddle with you and wouldn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you the moment you let him.

Soft hands would rub against the sore and aching parts of your body, easing the tension that had built up.

When he couldn’t be around, he’d leave small notes around the apartment that’d make you smile.

Coming home, he always had a little bag of snacks he bought on the walk back for you.

Just a little something to bring your mood up.

He’d spoil you too, small gifts and flowers that’d take up the table.

Niran would be soft and supportive, giving you exactly what you want whenever you needed it.

CASSIDY

Don’t expect this cowboy to let go of you anytime soon.

If you push him away, he’ll be the one pouting.

He’ll respect your wishes, of course, but he’d mope.

He'd forget occasionally, but would always make it up to you as quick as he could.

Cassidy would hold you close, hand soothing over your stomach in an attempt to calm the pain.

He'd be affectionate, more so than ever, it makes you question him each time, but he'd shut you up with kisses.

The cowboy would wrap you up in his cowl, his scent easing all worries for you.

No matter how snarky you would get, he always found it fun to verbally battle you.

Cassidy would let you lay in bed for as long as it happened, bringing you everything you requested.

He was happy to be your little servant for a few days, always laughing and joking about the circumstances, but never belittling you over something you couldn't control.

He would always reassure you about how much he loves you when you're teary eyed and doubtful.

LUCIO

He'd be the type to carry products in his bag just in case it started whilst you were out with him.

Always has spares on hand, each depending on the flow for that month.

If it became painful, he'd give you his homemade hot chocolate and a hot water bottle to put on your abdomen.

Lucio would put on your favourite playlist and let it loop until you got sick of it.

He'd make sure your favourite drink was prepared for you, chilled or hot, whatever you needed, he'd get it ready for you.

Snacks? He'd go shopping right then and there and pick up everything on the list you had given him.

He's a softie, pulling you close in bed and cuddling up close to you.

Blankets upon blankets would cover you both as he'd hum a tune to help you sleep.

If your mood plummets, he would sit with you until you calmed down, not wanting to leave you.

His hand would hold yours until contact would break, but he'd come back the moment he could.

Anything for his brest friend and partner.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Not sure if you take requests but could you write about Shang Tsung (and others) with breeding kink?🙏

feat. Shang Tsung, Bi-Han, Liu Kang, Syzoth (aka the guy I think would be into it)

tw: smut, afab!reader

author note: requests are open! It's been a while since I wrote smut, I hope you'll like these.

Shang Tsung: -He is staining your soul, putting his seed of evil into you. -The thought gives him goosebumps, his right hand keeping your leg up and open wide, while to other play with your nipple and at the same time pushes your back against his front. -The hand that way playing with your chest slides lower, now drawing patterns on your tummy that in a few month will be round and full. -Shang Tsung bites his lower lip, and close tight his eyes, it's a sinful thought that is bringing him too fast to the end. -"Let me cum inside, you want it too right? You always tell me, don't you remember?" He whispers into your ear, voice weavering at each of his thrust in your core. -You seriously don't remember ever telling him that, but you nod, too fucked, too lost in the throes of pleasure to formulate a coherent thought. -"I knew it, you will be an excellent brood mare." He smirks, wide and wicked. -Shang Tsung almost hope he didn't impregnate you this time, the idea so good he wants to try again and again. -Not that he will stop anyway…

Bi-Han: -He is the Grandmaster, you know? He needs heirs! -But Bi-Han isn't doing this to follow orders, his eyes liquid lust while looking at your soft body, phrases way too broken and badly formulated to be of a man following his duty. -"I'll make you full of my cum, I'll fuck you so good-" The sudden grip of your core make Bi-Han stops in his track, lost in the pleasure of your pussy suiting his cock like a glove. -It's not like you are doing any better, legs up his shoulders, hands scratching his biceps the only stable thing to keep you anchored to this moment, mind wandering in the sea of bliss at each of his hard thrusts. -Bi-Han can't stop thinking of your chest, filled to the brim with milk, soft and round begging to be touched, nipples hard desperate for some attention, tummy full of yours and his child. -His mind plays a dirty trick and he cums with just one last thrust, falling on top of you, groaning into your neck, while he fills you with his cum. -"Keep it all in, don't make a single drop fall."

Liu Kang: -He waited his entire life to be in peace and in love. Now it's time to step up the game. -The idea of you carrying his baby, your entire body glowing of happiness make his brain vessels close really fast, blood flowing to his crotch pathetically fast. -That's why now you are on your hands and knees, taking him like a champ, his thrusts hard and fast, the fat of your ass red from the slaps you counted a minute ago, the sound you are both making obscenely lewd. -Liu Kang isn't a gentleman. He is a man with a goal that he needs to accomplish if he doesn't want to become crazy. -Something that you already are, tears running down your face, drool escaping your open mouth, moans escaping freely. -"Please, lemme cum-" You sob "I've been good." You gasp out. -Liu Kang whines after hearing your voice. You always sound so good, and he is too weak to you. -"Take it all, my darling, you can do it. I know it." He prompts you on, close to the end himself. -And you do, not even a sound escapes your mouth, too tired and desperate, total opposite of Liu Kang whom cum into you, an high pitched moan blessing your ears. -You lay down, knees and arms weak after the intense session, trying to stabilise your breath, while your lover stay behind you, pulling out and admiring his work. -Liu Kang notices some cum rolling down your core, so he scoop it up with his index and middle finger to plunge it inside you again, earning him a whine. -"Don't waste any of it, keep it inside. It's holy, you know?"

Syzoth: -He gets a bit insane thinking of you having his kids, honestly. -That's why for the longest time, Syzoth won't say anything and keep this thought for himself, ashamed you may get scared. -But then he finds out you share his kink and his wall drop. But he'll ask to repeat yourself because Syzoth thinks his intrusive thought pulled a bad joke on him. -Syzoth prefers to enjoy his kink when he isn't in "heat", when his mind is a bit more stable and he can control himself a bit more. You tell him he is fine either way, but please respect his decision one step at a time. -Doesn't mean Syzoth won't rock your world anyway; you should know how hot your shy boy is. -Syzoth would bite your neck, tell him if he is being too rough, he may not be in "heat," but the blood isn't pumping only in his brain right now. -Don't tap out! For lizards, it means you are being submissive, and it is like an okay sign to keep going, Syzoth didn't agree on a safe word with you just for fun. -"You are so fucking big-" You turn your head back as best as you can, face still pushed into the mattress, voice almost a little whine "Fill me up, please cum inside!" -Syzoth doesn't have to mind to reply, but he understands enough to act, filling you to the brim, the idea of your full tummy and soft glow the last push he needed.

[shadowqueenjude]

Something I've really noticed in SJM's writing of Rhysand: She'll constantly say one thing about him but the writing will tell us exactly the opposite. Like she'll tell us that Rhysand is super feminist or some shit and we're just supposed to...agree. But he hasn't done shit to help Illyrian females who get their wings cut off every day. Making laws without enforcing them is useless. Which leads into my second point: She tells us 70 times a chapter how powerful Rhysand is, yet he's unable to force the Illyrians to follow laws? Pls be fr. She tells us he believes in the equality of all beings. Yet he sexually assaulted a 19 yo human and he separates the CoN from Velaris? And also says bOtH sIdEs MaDe MiStAkEs. Bitch stfu. She tells us this man is uber handsome and desirable. Yet he's had no serious relationship in like 500 years. Tamlin has had relationships with a ton of people as was stated in book 1. But Rhysand? No relationships or even casual fucks as far as we know. Bro is just celibate somehow. We KNOW Lucien is hot because everyone in Prythian plus the Children of the Blessed are instantly dumbstruck when they look at him and it ain't because of the scar lovelies. Plus we even have LUCIEN being out on border control "WITH SOME COMPANY!" As in he was fucking someone. Plus he had Jesminda ofc. And we have Tamlin being insecure (it's a retcon but whatever) of Lucien in ACOWAR when it comes to Feyre. We have SJM telling us Rhysand is super duper smart and shit. Yet I've seen no demonstration of even the slightest bit of tact from him. He couldn't even make the High Lords listen to a word he was saying without violence. But Nesta, a human just turned Fae, was able to make all of them listen without violence. We've seen Lucien use tact when he played spymaster in book 1, when he used his cunning to try and guide Feyre to the answer in book 1, when he and Feyre together use the Bogge to assert their dominance over the Hybern twins, and when he was able to send a sample over to his friend Nuan about the faebane. Plus there's the fact that he saw through all of Feyre's bullshit and he survived the cutthroat Autumn Court and he currently balances three roles while still dressing immaculately. She'll tell us Rhysand believes in choice. Yet she wrote Rhysand forcing himself on Feyre, Rhysand forcing Feyre into a bargain, not permitting her to go back to Spring, not giving her the necessary info to make a proper decision over ANYTHING in Night (biggest example of this is the Weaver scene), hiding her malignant pregnancy from her and restricting her movements, and locking Lucien and Nesta up in houses. I could go on but you know...

Sjm needs to realize that SAYING something doesn't make it true. You have to PROVE IT with the actions and storyline you undertake. ACTIONS SPEAK LOUDER THAN WORDS.

[pirateborn]

I was going to write a detailed hc post on Roger’s feelings towards Rayleigh but also like, no yeah Roger adores and loves this man end note