#and i love that mine can be separated from urs and from others like that

[raddest-laddest]

OH MY FUCKING—

THE NOISE I MADE WAS NOT HUMAN

RAAAGHGH QUIRRELMON BLAST 💚💙 my part of an art trade with @raddest-laddest ft. their gijinka designs of them :)

[withonly-sweetheart]

Starry Eyed Singer

You're a scientist, not a singer, but when the newest experiment takes a liking to not only you, but your voice, you might just be the key to finding the rest of them. And although he's stuck behind the confines that keep him away from you, that hide the songs that he knows could have you throwing yourself into the water for him, he won't hurt you. After all, how could he? When you're his starry eyed singer.

a/n: first lets ignore the fact there's only dialogue at the last bit im so tired of this literally its been two whole ass weeks I NEVER GO PAST A DEADLINE IM GONNA TWEAK buuuut i really really like this idea i just think that for a theme, this is short and sweet enough for me! i would definitely want to expand on this as a whole, and i couldn't resist adding a dead dove ending <3 (im a creepy mf ik)

find the bad ending here...

alright now its time for credits

@bunnivievve - this is literally her au. like seriously i took everything from her analysis sheet like i would not be here without you. i salute you fine woman you are the reason i wake up and write siren leon. + thank you sm for ur hc i hope it's fitting to what you were thinking!!! THISSSSS LITERALLY THIS IS WHAT INSPIRED ME SMMM <333

@larvamars - help im sorry for mentioning you but i kinda took the art of leon looming over the scientist in that one piece of urs to heart... yeah... thinkin abt that while writing this really helped <3 so tysm just crediting people where credit is due!!

@sirenhub <- ngl i thought of you while writing this the WHOLE time i was tryna be freaky... get it bc ur name is siren... also the dead dove ending is dedicated to you my love... please drown me to the bottom of the ocean.. <333

@vampiricgf <- KITAA WE'RE TWINNING SO HARD ON THIS ONE... ur au is better than mine i fear but its ok this is a connection i couldn't pass up

(psst. if i didnt mention u in this one artist moots TRUST you're definitely in one of the other three.)

tw: descriptions of loss and grief, reader's mother is dead, luis angst, tiny mention of smut but nun too bad, brother i can't write anything without making it sound like shakespeare and not in a good way...

wc: 7.3k

The pearl of the ocean. He’s watched every wretched person who’s confined him here, with their white coverings and spectacles resting on their too sharp noses, their awkward gait and their irregular size. And not one was interesting enough to keep him intrigued for more than a day.

And then you appeared in his life, a presence uninvited, a treasure undeserving of his touch, not that he would be able to get his fingers on you either way. Your eyes were so lively, restless, sparkling like stars through the clear material that separates you.

If only you could hear him. He was sure just a moment of his voice would be enough to ensure your enrapture, enough to ensnare you like they had caught him off the coast. His colony had warned him enough times of all the dangers the shore brought, yet something brought him back.

You are alike in that sense, hunger consuming you from the inside out, fatal if not for the restraints that were easier for him to hold than you. He can feel your eyes on him as he languidly floats through the somewhat roomy tank they house him in, temporary, of course, but for three months he’s been stuck behind this insufferable, invisible surface that sets the barrier between you both.

A creature of the sea and a creature of the land. He entertains quiet thoughts of you at night, when his dreams should be fitful, longing to be free in the ocean, yet the yearning for you is stronger. He assumes it is mutual, why else would you act the way you do? Enamored, entranced, elated enough to send shoals of fish skittering through his stomach.

But he mistakes fascination for infatuation. 

<><><><>

You cast Luis a sideways glance, a strange haze between you, air infecting what used to come so naturally, seeping into your skin, sealing your lips shut as if your banter was planned and you’re finally speechless.

His fingers flick the lighter lid open, then back, setting a rhythm that should be comfortable enough to make up for your unnatural silence, but it only serves to make things worse. You resist the urge to bristle when he finally speaks.

“You really don’t know why you’re here,” he murmurs, and you would’ve missed it, hidden under the whirring gears vibrating in the ground if not for the fact you’ve been expecting it. 

You scoff. “What do you think?”

“I think that you must’ve done something.” He sighs and leans forward, tense in every aspect except for his mouth, brown butter molding to the cherry of his lips that purse, abandoning the man you knew. “Why leave both of us in here? Alone?”

His tone is suggestive, and you might’ve dismissed it as playful under other circumstances, but you know exactly what he’s doing—making a fool out of you. 

“Tell me,” you insist. Luis leans back, the lamp in the hallway shining through the window, bronzing the copper planes of his face. He links his hands together and rests them palm upward on his forehead, closing his eyes. 

After a few moments of silence, he cracks one of them open, narrowed as soon as he realizes you’re still watching, still waiting for an answer he’s far too reluctant to hand over.

“Impatient, are you?”

“You’re the one who fucked everything up! If you had just listened when I said the radar was, what, three feet off, we could’ve caught it just fine! But no, guess who has to play the hero?” you seethe. You feel your heartbeat thrum under where your fingers lie on your wrist, pulsing like a warning. Back off.

“Are you a senior scientist?” He quirks an eyebrow, challenging you to a fight you’ll surely lose, but when have you ever backed down to him? “I didn’t think as much.”

That pet name irks you enough to spark a retort, one you didn’t even think about before it’s past your lips and hanging in the air between you.

“I’ll rip that badge off your shirt before they get here if you don’t tell me why the fuck we’ve both been stuck in here for three hours!” Your voice is level to an extent, level like you’ve never thought to be calm.

His arms fall down to his knees, elbowing the meat of his thighs, eyes drawn back to you. “Are you always this irritable?” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips, curving them upward. “Or am I just lucky to be sitting next to a beautiful woman with the temper to match?”

You scowl, unable to summon the grin that you wish would appear in your mind. Seeing that you aren’t as amused at him at his little joke, the smile slips right off his face, and that sullen expression usurps his features.

“They found it,” he admits, albeit quietly, as if he’s afraid someone will hear. “Right after we left.”

“They… did?”

“Mhm,” he confirms, voice low and throaty. His lips part and you lean forward slightly, eager to hear his elaboration. “A new project is underway. Experiment 003. And you’ll be-”

The door swings open, and the white light that bathes you isn’t a good sign. 

<><><><>

You don’t understand the solemn look on Luis’ face. Shouldn’t he be happy for you? You actually got the assignment you had requested, for once, and with what was once thought to be a creature only found in stories. And yet he stands leaning in the doorway to the lab room, gazing at the water.

It’s been two weeks, and not once have you actually seen this supposed creature. You’re starting to think this is all some elaborate joke Luis has crafted to keep your enthusiasm fresh, but he knows that your praise and effort aren’t akin to fruit and vegetables.

“No progress?” he offers weakly, not once making eye contact with you.

“Why don’t you try?” you reply bitterly. It’s been a hot minute since you’ve gotten any quality sleep, and the laboratory’s coffee runs alongside your blood in your veins, which bubbles back up in the raw coffee beans that swirl on your tongue as you await his response.

“Ouch.” Luis pretends to wince, seemingly hurt. “You might hurt my feelings, chiquita.”

“Good.”

“You can insult me all you want,” he says, damn that clever tongue of his, “but you’re pretty cute when you're mad. Makes it hard for me to take you seriously, mi amor.”

“Why are you like this?” you grit out, sweeping the papers off your desk to slam your clipboard down, crisp paper untouched. Can’t take notes on something you’ve never seen.

“Like what?” he asks, tilting his head. “Ever charming?”

“I was thinking something like bipolar,” you groust. “You’re never just one person, are you? What else are you hiding from me?”

He puts his hands up in defense as you stalk towards him, but he waits until you’re a step away to respond. “Hiding? Me? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muses.

You tilt your head up just as he tilts his head down, and you lock eyes with him, the searing honey dripping from his eyes to yours, cooling quickly enough to create threads of sweet ice connecting you both.

How it feels to long for something you’ll never have.

Your eyes flit to the band on his ring finger.

<><><><>

The cool glass finds your fingertips, aching from restless typing emails back and forth, persisting that you can handle this one. Your encounter with Luis has left you determined to prove you can do it without him, that you’re perfectly capable of ignoring him in the hallways, in the lunchroom, pretending not to hear him call your name across the lab.

But the blue glow dapples your face as you stare into the mirror on your desk, angled towards the picture of you and Luis, acceptance letters crumpled in your hands with your arms over each other’s shoulders, eyes glazed.

One too many drinks that night led to peppering his face with kisses, sliding those glasses off his face, admiring how pretty he looked all tipsy and breathless underneath you, watching all those cocky retorts disappear under your fingers. 

It’s hard to get over someone you’ll never stop seeing, and you’ve got a better chance of being fired than retiring early. Besides, if you love your job, you’ll suffer through anything to keep it, right? Even if that means forcing smiles at his open face.

With no one to console you, a locked door and curtains dressing the windows, you let the tears flow freely, wishing that the water only a few inches away would somehow absorb the tears, make you seem stronger than you really are. Somber music tinkles away to an end in the background, leaving you in obsolete silence that seems to swallow you whole.

A tap on the glass. Suspended motionless just beyond the barrier, electric blue undertones of his skin mesmerizing, highlighting elegant fins and swirling markings. Deep azure pools that lock onto yours, hair framing his face like a snapshot in time.

"Holy shit, shit, shit!" you blurt out loud before you can help it. Your pulse races to life, drinking in every feature you can, drawing an image that will never be up to scale; whoever can put his flowing, inky locks to delicate fins that frame his lithe, powerful frame into words should be standing in your place, because you sure can’t.

You swivel around, hyping yourself up even more at the fact that you’re the first scientist in the building to see him with your own eyes, fingers curled around your clipboard as you shuffle back.

But you’ve dotted your name and scribbled down the date only to jerk your eyes back to the empty space, as if he was never there. Only one piece of evidence remains, and even that flutters down to the depths you cannot see.

An iridescent scale.

<><><><>

Your voice is croaky from even more lack of sleep, hours of waiting by the glass in vain; the frog in your throat leaps out to greet Luis when he saunters over, leaning on his elbow that rests on the table, eyes darting from side to side to confirm what he already knows from ten minutes of absconded silence - you’re alone in the breakroom.

“Well?” he urges, eyes slicing down to check his watch. “Make it quick, mi amor. I’ve got a meeting in ten minutes.”

My love. How ironic that he still calls you that, it must slip from his mind on days like this. “Isn’t today your rest day-”

“Well?” he repeats, more urgently this time. And under his persistence, you’re less sure of your theory than before.

Your teeth pierce the chapped skin of your bottom lip, cracking it open, savoring the iron tang of blood that flows freely, even though you know it’ll come back to bite you in the ass later. The sting calms you.

“Experiment 003,” you begin, digging your fingernails into your palm for a split second before forcing your wavering hand to push the files towards him. “The mermaid-”

“Merman,” he corrects quickly, before his eyes go slightly wider than before and raises his hands in defense, again, as if his open palms will stop the silent words of hurt that batter his skin from your eyes.

“Merman,” you repeat, continuing, “isn’t really a merman.” 

“What?” Luis’ eyebrows fly up and he claws at the folder, flipping through the papers before staring back up at you in disbelief. “You have no evidence to support this!”

“But I saw him,” you insist, admitting what you had told yourself you weren’t going to reveal to him. How is it that his face still gets your tongue tied in your mouth, coaxing secrets without him even knowing? “And… it displays none of the traits found in the fisherman’s tales.”

“They’re all old men,” he says dismissively, and his nonchalance, once again, only serves to irk you and fuel your need to prove him wrong. “So what if they couldn’t see right?”

“But—”

“No buts,” he says with a tone of finality, and it doesn’t occur to you to speak back this time. The point’s been lost in your first plea, and the honey bees descend from his tongue to spike you everywhere, scorn you for trying to doubt him. “Just get back to work, and don’t bother me anymore, señorita. I have work to do.”

You’ve never been dismissed by him before, so when he sinks into his hands, rubbing circles into your eyes, you don’t move a muscle, wondering if there will be any further instruction.

But he lifts his chin, so slowly that his gaze sears everywhere that it touches until that flame gets put out by the bucket of boiling water bubbling to life in his eyes. That dull demeanor lying over irritation lies bare on his face, soaking through like wet newspaper, ink unintelligible but meaning clear. 

Get out.

<><><><>

It’s hard to find something more consistent than the steady lapping of water, kissing the top of the glass where it connects with your ceiling. You stare into the abyss, willing the creature to appear from its depths, but where the flowing water meets your demands, the being does not.

Your thoughts begin to wander. How exactly had you called it— no, him?

“The subject is male,” you hear Luis’ voice ring in your ear, as if a ghost of a person still standing with you, a shadow of what you hoped could be true. That day, there was no sound in the room except for the steady current of your tears washing your cheeks for the umpteenth time that week.

It’s probably not that. After all, it would take a creature with keen ears and a sharper mind to hear not only through the glass, but to recognize the pain that even the person who causes it cannot identify. But you’re desperate.

So you conjure up the strongest memory you have, one that surpasses all levels of guilt and anger and pain to the highest level of sorrow you’ve ever felt. The night your mother died.

Your eyes stay glued to the simple white cloth adorning her body, cupping her gently like the beings from above have descended to hold her in their heavenly hands, the idea that if you keep your gaze away from her, she’ll long for it once more and return to you.

But as much as you know she loves you, she remains still. And when you drag your reluctant eyes to grace her pale, limp hands, rubbing some warmth into her spindly fingers, fingers that fed you and dressed you. Arms that hugged you when you finished elementary school, kept your grades up with a raise that was never a promise, only an empty threat.

And the eyes that sparkled like yours, now dead. How similar you look to her, even now, hollow cheeks and irises that lose their cheer, wilting flowers like your dress that billows in the wind as you stand with your feet in the sea, grounding yourself against the waves that threaten to pull you away.

Why couldn’t you stay? Why did she abandon you in a cruel, motherless world that you know is common yet feels like a situation that will only ever apply to your pitiful self? Why does nothing last, if only for a fleeting moment in which you light her pyre and watch the flames engulf her until she’s nothing but a pile of ashes.

Before the wind can steal her away with its greedy fingers, you sweep her into a vase.

And that vase will stay in the second wooden shelf, the sturdiest one right above your desk, two inches away from the ledge, pressed against the chipped paint of your wall. You will never let her go. She will always be with you; in one way or another.

You’ll make sure of that.

Guilt isn’t the right word. There is no word to describe the torrents of how disgusted you are at yourself, and if there is, there shouldn’t be. You’ve confined your mother to these lands instead of accepting the peace she deserves.

And suddenly, observing the creature doesn’t seem as important as before. There are more pressing issues at hand, issues that might have something to do with your current lack of luck, as of late.

What you miss as you scamper around the room is the eyes that watch you from the darkness, sharp enough to crackle fire that would burn this whole place to the ground if he wished, but he waits. 

In silence as you hastily grab your bag from the coat rack, abandoning your jacket. He knows you’ll be back from this one action and relaxes his tense body.

As long as you come back.

<><><><>

Aquamarine darkness envelops the far side of the room, if the building you’re in even resembles a room. It must end somewhere, especially since the peacock lights flash back in a rhythmic pattern, always circling back to where you’re planted.

Rooted to the peaty soil that squelches around your rain boots that were required before stepping into… wherever your current location was. Of course, the admin team is never happy with what they have, and apparently one subject to prod and poke wasn’t enough.

So you’re sent in here, to gain more information, the rookie’s always the guinea pig for anything, right? To find the rest of them, if there are any. You’re doubting this idea as a whole theory itself, because what if he’s one of a kind? Special.

But that something gets closer and closer to you. Your eyes have become accustomed to the darkness, adapting to the shapes that spark your vivid imagination, the murky water swirling everywhere the inky mass touches. 

Eight feet and four inches is intimidating enough to scan behind the safety of your reinforced glass walls, bulletproof and all, and you’re not reassured by the idea that although you shouldn’t be scared, you are.

Only once have you seen him through the water, and that was enough to spark your interest. The flame of curiosity burns falsely in your stomach, washed out by the waves of fear. You feel like nothing but a small fish at his intense gaze, a gaze that frightens you, and it must show on your expression.

Within a matter of seconds he backs away, perhaps sensing your discomfort, and you realize that your initial hypothesis must’ve been correct; he can feel others' emotions. You wonder how this works for a creature that cannot communicate, at least not with you.

Something flashes through his eyes, storm clouds and thunder alike, and a low hiss pushes its way through his canine teeth, an attribute you hadn’t noticed until the sound hits your ears.

It is strange, the look on his face, with his hair moist and clinging to his neck as he bobs further away, weaving between the speckles of moss that float from your little island to him, gifts or warnings, you don’t know.

He takes them as warnings, it seems, with his tense, hostile expression that seems to appear from thin air, staring at you tersely, somewhat like a dolphin or a seal at the aquarium before dipping back into the water without a sound, silence filling the area where he was.

And although you’re perfectly aware that your fear has not yet subsided from crashing against your lungs, you admit to yourself that now that he’s gone, you miss the thrill.

Who would’ve thought you’d become so daring, hm?

<><><><>

But wait, it gets worse. You had assumed this was a one time thing, a test run with a temporary guinea pig that happened to be the rookie of the lab, and although you weren’t too happy with the arrangement, you were perfectly content with the idea of admiring him from a distance, especially after such a close encounter.

Yet no one gives you a heads up or a warning before you’re shoved into the same room again, fear licking at your spine as those flashing lights proceed further through the water. And after a while, the initial horror bypasses your system and you grow used to the thick silence hanging in the air, mingling with the musty scent of swamp water.

You don’t know what they’ve fed him this week. Maybe they forgot to clean his tank. Whoever’s in charge of his wellbeing obviously fucked up the one time you take a break to visit friends touring the city, because when you return, rested and fresh, ready to succeed, something’s wrong

You’ve never noticed it before, but there are scales scattered on his neck, a light blue color, tile shaped as if a button longing to be pressed. Those are the northern lights transferred from the sky to the sea, plastered onto him, hanging loosely so his gills can pulse. Open, shut, as you inhale sharply and exhale swiftly.

They light up in assortments of azure, carribean shades of the murky water, yet so much more vibrant. And as if the thrill wasn’t enough to make its fingers around your neck and restrict your breath, holding your silence as if the air would scare him away, he starts to sing.

Vertigo overwhelms your senses the moment his euphonic voice escapes from those lips, marinated on his tongue, deep and resonant. A dizzying feeling that causes you to stumble to your knees, red dots sparkling all along your vision.

And through the haze, you swear you can see him smirk, the corner of his lip twisting upward, as if this was the intended effect, like you’re supposed to feel as if you’re about to throw up and dance and cry and jump for joy, all at once.

Guess what else you were right about?

He’s no merman.

You forget the word, the term to describe the hooks cast into the sea to lure unsuspecting victims, hooks that are merely sweet, velvety tones that are all hollow truths, a desire to be craved and a hunger that can never be satiated.

A warning to be reckoned, to be heard, to be feared.

A siren.

<><><><>

“What the actual fuck?” You restrain your voice to keep yourself from screeching, which you know you would do if you were alone, which you never truly are with the walls that hear everything, along with throwing yourself at him and wrestling him to the floor. 

“You said it yourself, he’s a siren! And you could’ve just died!” Luis’ hands are twisted his hair, madly clutching at their roots, and his concern for you is so profoundly surprising it sparks a laugh from you.

“I was fine, thanks,” you snap back, drumming your fingers on the table as you stare directly at his face, a face that seems crazy to love now. So many times you wonder what could’ve been, and now you’re wasting time sitting here with this fool.

“You. Could’ve. Died.” Luis accentuates each word with the ending sound as a growl, as if his voice will instill some sense of security in you, but you find yourself getting burning as he continues, “How could you even think about doing something so stupid?”

“Me?” Your voice has found a perch high in your vocal range, and it won’t come down. “Whose idea was this in the first place?” You scan his face for any hint of remorse, but there is none, and nothing in his expression offers an answer.

“Mi amor-”

“Stop fucking calling me that! You don’t get to say that like- like we still have something! Do you even know what love is?” Luis’ eyes go stony, a boulder pushed up the wrong side of the hill, and you’re not strong enough to keep it up. 

And it all comes crashing down.

“Love?” A dry chuckle erupts from his mouth, expression conforming to both disbelief and pity, both uncalled for and unwanted. “Excuse me? Of course I know what love is, but it’s a little hard to love someone that’s constantly putting themselves in danger!”

His accent is sinking further and further into his words with his newfound irritation, irritation aimed at you for no apparent reason. Maybe something’s going on at home, but does that give him the authority to take it out on you? Hell no.

You stand, far too loudly, and everyone watches you get ready to make your exit without another word, because what are you meant to say to something like that? Are you so unrecognizable, within less than half a year? How easy is it to leave your old self behind?

The one that clung to him. Is that his problem?

You brush past his chair on the way out, and out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you watch him twist the band on his finger, flicking his fingers back and forth, an absent habit he’s had since your sorority years.

But before you can pass him completely, he glances behind him and rolls his chair back, maneuvering it to avoid your feet. You’re about to tell him to fuck off when he draws his eyes back up, lingering on your lips, and you know what he’s thinking.

“Wait,” he says quietly, voice soft and barely audible, but he’s stopped rolling his chair back to tilt his head up towards you.

“What?” you snap, at first unknowingly but strangely reveling in the way he flinches at your harshness, flitting back to the day he had dismissed your concerns so flagrantly. You justify your actions by determining that he deserves it. His eyes darken again as a frown puckers his lips and the space between his eyebrows. 

“Don’t… just… don’t leave, please…” he stutters, his usual confidence nowhere to be found, struggling with the words before speaking again. “Can we… talk?”

“No, because there’s nothing to talk about. Besides, I have work to do.”

He lets out a small sigh at your response, to the reference of that event, irritation fluctuating in his tone. “Work? You’ve been working for four months, and you’ve found absolutely nothing.” And so the truth slips out, whether branching from his will or against it. This is how he really feels, huh?

"You don't get to tell me that." you mutter. "I'm the one documenting him, not you. You sit in your little room behind the glass, perfectly safe, and not once have you thought about swapping our roles. You don't love me, and I honestly have no idea why you even bother to lie to me about it."

Luis grits his teeth, his irritation and anger clear in his eyes, those eyes that were once pools of admiration sinking into the depths of everything you thought was between you. "What are you talking about? That's not true, I... of course I love you!" Then he rises from his chair, taking a step towards you, as if you’d allowed that.

You step back, pressing against the door. Your fingers creep behind your back to the handle and his eyes flicker to them, to the hand that’s grasping it so tightly it goes whiter than his face as he retreats to the table, pale with horror.

“I wouldn’t… ever hurt you,” he murmurs.

“Then why did you marry her?” you ask, voice soft. It’s a question you’ve been tossing in your mind, a simple game of catch that started grabbing rules from all sorts of games, pickleball and why he chose her, badminton and how you could’ve done better, volleyball in the victory in which his wife revels, and in which you wallow, losing yet another thing you loved.

“Because you said it was temporary!” he grumbles, sliding his teeth over his bottom lip, refusing to make the very same eye contact he was practically begging for an hour ago, in this very meeting room where you would stare at your department head as she provided strict instructions, catching Luis’ fleeting glances at your side profile.

“Isn’t that all we ever were?” you whisper. “Temporary?”

The air shatters between you. Finally, the unspoken truth that you both have carried for so long in your hearts is out, and it feels like a burden has been lifted off your shoulders. You can see it in his expression, however horrified, there’s some form of acceptance. He’s known this for as long as you have.

“What… happened to you? To us?” he asks quietly, looking at you like you’re a stranger, fractured parts of you discarded behind you like a broken mirror, one and the same but reflecting another person.

The door clicks open, squeaking as it swings to show you away, to the exit, finally leaving behind what you thought you could never let go of. But you pause before you leave, entertaining his question. When you have your answer, you don’t hesitate to deliver it.

“Sometimes you lose people. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

<><><><>

As the rerun comes through, cracked on the cheap speaker, fading quickly, you waltz around your room, feeling serene enough in the moment, losing yourself to the melody. How many hours have you wasted soaring through the skies in your office, only to plummet back down like a shot bird when you acknowledge the stack of papers spawning on your desk?

But when the hard day’s stresses melt away to the sway of your hips and your however offkey voice, no one is there to judge you. Luis isn’t chastising you about anything, and it’s good enough for you.

When the chorus swells, you open your mouth and belt out the lyrics, hoping the grainy walls can contain your voice, but the volume seems obnoxious, even for you. That’s when you notice the shadow on the floor towering over you, and you spin around.

Your eyes are glued to his mouth, to the words that are achingly pure and smooth, somehow heard through the glass. Illuminated by the tank lights, ethereal tones blending perfectly with the recording, enhancing it in a way you’d never heard. 

Raw emotion, the longing in his voice, however foreign to you, the curve of his accent, words you’ve never heard. All so new to you, chills racing down your spine, tickling at your back.

And when the song crests, his unearthly high notes soar with a beauty strong enough to bring tears, tears that you have to hold back in case someone were to walk in. When he seals his mouth with a smile—a private, intimate thing that feels like it belongs to you, you’re sufficiently spellbound, the world ceasing to exist.

His eyes flash in the water, flitting behind you, to the rattling of your door, and only after you’ve twisted over your shoulder to verify there’s no one there does he choose to make his exit. You see the corner of his tail flick, you hope in temporary goodbye, before you close your eyes and replay his voice in your head.

Over, and over, and over again, until all you can think about is him. How wonderful would it be if he was real, hm? You see him as an illusion now, you suppose, because how do you ever know something is truly real before you can feel it under your fingertips?

And when the voice is gone, fading from your mind into the echoes of your room, vibrations clamoring to bury the sweet sound that you long for now that it’s not with you anymore, you realize there is something you’ve been doing wrong.

Something that you must fix right away. Someone you’ve kept for far too long, yet another person you’ve lost and tried to bring back.

Your mother.

<><><><>

The ocean is trying to draw you in again, rhythmic waves pooling at your feet, urging you to come sleep in its embrace, take an everlasting nap to the lullaby of the water. But you’re not so easily fooled. You remember all you’ve lost, all you’ve regained, and how you’ve been forced to let everything go.

Not for your gain, but for theirs. You suppose scientific curiosity was not what you were chasing this entire time. Your resignation letters were turned in promptly, along with an anonymous report to the people you knew you could trust to shut down what is undoubtedly an illegal operation.

Will Luis be caught in the crossfire? You’re sure of it, and although you’ll never stop caring for the man you first loved, only shreds of compassion remind, and even those shreds are not enough to bail him out. 

You are far more concerned for the experiment, hope that he survives. If there’s anything you’ve learned during your time at the laboratory, it’s that no matter what branch of government, no one is merciful to anything different.

So you call upon all the gods watching, if there are any, and pray to them for forgiveness. Plead to them for mercy, and spin the lid off the vase that you’ve seen so many times, staring at it absentmindedly while studying, unable to understand a concept without your mother to explain it.

But like with all things and people, you’ve learned to live without her. And you’ve kept her spirit with you for far too long, haunting you in dreams, dreams she shouts your name in, screaming for peace. 

You break those shackles with a gentle toss, keeping the vase cradled in your arms as the ashes pour out into the water. Taking a step back to avoid any sticking with you, you dig your feet back into the dry sand, watching the dark particles disappear into the clear water.

She is free. Your mother is finally free.

A high pitched call returns your initial sob, and you swipe at your face, bleary eyed and trying to get a good look at what it could’ve been. The assumption it could be a dolphin has you reaching behind you for your bag, shuffling through its contents, pictures of you and your mother. You will not abandon those, for memories are precious, you know this well.

But when you bring your eyes back to the sea, you see a humanoid figure in the distance, raising their hand in greeting to you. Tawny hair that reflects the descending sun, a simple white shirt, gloriously unbuttoned, and khaki beige shorts.

You do not recognize him, and so out of fear, you retreat further and further into your backyard, all thoughts of admiring the sunset gone, as the man approaches. You reach for your stuff as you stumble backwards, never taking your eyes off of him and this plays in your favor.

Everything about him is so different, so foreign to you, and when he speaks, his voice is raspy, and you feel like a tourist all over again, in a city where you don’t belong. You don’t deserve this, to be standing here.

You lost him, right? But you could never mistake those eyes.

And now he’s human. There are no scales, no gills, no affront to his identity, one and the same as you, and yet he feels so different. You recognize his eyes, they haven’t changed from their cerulean blue, orbs crafted from the sea itself, forged by Poseidon’s hand, a statue in the hands of the gods, but so much is missing.

The raven feathers of his hair that would’ve looked stunning in the night, now out of place and far too vibrant against the mellow shades slowly darkening, becoming more somber. 

Twinkling lights strung in the space where the muscle stretches as he twists behind him, as if checking the sea, now gone dim and dissolved into the pale, unsullied skin of his neck.

You suppose you should be happy his voice hasn’t changed. With just one word, he lulls you back to him, and you can’t remember thinking of the differences between the experiment you had so vigorously studied and the man standing in front of you, not to be studied, but to be loved.

“Hi.” He reaches up, ruffles the back of his head, as if that will rattle out all the words spinning around in his mind, mirroring your own turmoiled thoughts. 

“Hi.” You mimic his actions, running sharp nails against the side of your scalp, failing to push stray strands away from your face. Through your hair, you peer at him, the sun long gone behind him, and parts of him are hidden again, like you’re hiding pieces of him from your conscious mind, fearing losing him again.

Most mystifying of all was how right it feels to have him standing right in front of you, finally equal, aside from the few inches that he has on you. Those depths of ocean blue lingering in his eyes grounds you, realizing how many times you’ve looked into those same eyes, wondering exactly what he’s thinking of.

Now you can know. And you’re not about to pass up the opportunity and let fear engulf you like you’ve let it usurp your mind so many times before.

"It's still you in there, isn't it?" you ask softly.

He smiles, and your heart skips at the familiar gesture, a smile you’ve unsurprisingly missed. "It is. I wanted to see you again."

"But how? How’d you… do this? And why come back?" You step closer, drinking in each subtle nuance of his new appearance. It’s appropriate for him, nothing too flashy, blending into the background. Aside from that halo of blond hair pressed to his forehead, slick with salt water.

“You freed me,” he says quietly, eyes searching your body, as if he’s trying to ingrain an image of you into his head. You did the same, not too long ago. But there was a need for it then, and no need for it now.

Reaching out tentatively, you trace the contour of his neck, half expecting to feel residual traces of his missing bioluminescence. Only warm skin meets your fingers, and a low sigh from his lips, and now that he’s here, under your touch, you know that he’s real. Not just for your sanity, but in reality, as well.

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say, just to clarify, because you assume the last thing you need is to owe a mythical sea creature. “We’ll call it even since you didn’t eat me.” He barks a soft laugh, a seal-like sound, before lacing your fingers with his onto his cheek, pressing your hand further into his skin.

 "I changed so I could be with you without barriers. So we could truly understand one another." He gazes meaningfully into your eyes. "If you'll have me."

“I don’t even know your name,” you say, breathless, because haven’t you expected all of your loved ones to come back to you just like this, before inevitably accepting it’ll never happen? And now it is.

“My name?” That goddamn smirk, whether he is able to communicate or not, whether he’s human or not, tells you all you need to.

“Hm?”

“Leon.”

“Leon,” you test out, rolling the name on your tongue, causing him to scrunch up his nose.

“What? You do not like it?”

“No, no,” you say, with a chuckle. “It suits you.”

His expression relaxes, frown vanishing as he pulls you closer, leaning forward to rest his chin on your shoulder as he takes your other hand. A familiar tune thrums through your ear, reaching your brain at supersonic speeds, cruising into your blood. The first song he ever sang for you, and now both the memory and his voice seem so far away compared to this moment.

A single moment. Suspended in time, lovers finally reunited, pair after pair failing like incorrect puzzle pieces until now, you’ve found the one. 

And this time, you’re never letting go.

<><><><>

The stars arrange themselves in Leon’s eyes, constellations spelling out a story as you gaze down at him wholeheartedly, loving him with all your spirit and throwing caution to the wind. 

His gaze flickers from time to time, like if he truly blinks, you’ll be gone with the night breeze, a stray leaf on the sand, misplaced. 

“Did you like being a siren?” Leon’s eyes squeeze shut, head shifting on where it lies in your lap, hand creeping onto your knee.

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” he says timidly. “But you showed me more. I didn’t want to hurt people anymore after seeing you.”

“Me?” Your laugh is soft, melodious to his ears, and it soothes a little bit of the ache that has been forming since the day you arrived at the laboratory. “How’d you even find me?”

“Your mother,” he replies, voice soft. “I sensed her, and with her came you. And somehow, my father obliged in my wishes to… abandon my colony.”

“Abandon?” You quirk an eyebrow in concern.

“I can never return,” he says, but his tone is light and airy, unconvincingly so. “But I found that I would give the sea, my family, for you, even if it’s all I’ve ever known. There is nothing left for me there.”

“But you shouldn’t have,” you whisper back. “Give up all that, for me? You could’ve just visited once in a while… I wouldn’t have minded.”

“And yet I would find myself longing for your touch, even on the days that all seemed well, the ocean’s beauty is but a teardrop in comparison to yours.” Ever the charmer.

“You don’t… regret it?” Leon shakes his head.

“How could I? What part of my life would I regret if I gave something up to spending even a fraction of it with you? All those days, from the sun rising to the moon rising, and you were right there, even if you weren’t under my fingers.”

“You were beautiful,” you admit. “But…”

“And I suppose all along,” he continues, “I was truly just bait for my colony. It is better that I have left them, better to leave them safe where they are happy. Where I am now happy, with you, with your beautiful face and pretty voice.”

“Pretty voice?” You flush, hoping you can mask it as an abnormal overheating technique. He doesn’t seem to notice. “Really?”

“You always look so lovely when you sing,” he muses. “Sing a song for me, please?”

You don’t know what brings you to actually do it. Is it the warmth of his hair splayed out on your thighs, or his eager expression as his eyes drag upward, flitting to your lips. You hum a tune and instantly feel at ease, perhaps you should’ve pursued a life of music.

Music. It doesn’t sound as absurd as it did throughout high school and college, when you scorned the same people who have now grown famous for their voices. You saw them as lazy, when you should’ve seen them as talented.

You hold out a note, gazing towards the sea, wondering if your mother is watching you right at this moment. You wonder if she would be content with everything you’ve done in your life, if she’s forgiven you enough to let you have this peace. The peace you once denied her.

Leon’s approval comes in a hum of his own, snapping you out of your thoughts. His hand reaches upward, trailing your cheek before he tilts his head up and you lean forward and kiss him, and the seconds rush by far too quickly before he pulls away, lips already quite red, and the corner of his mouth ticks upward, exposing the pearl white of his grin.

“Just as perfect as the last time,” he murmurs, “my starry eyed singer.”

[cybrs4pphic]

camgirl pt 2!!

camgirl!reader x abby

afab/fem!reader, squirting (:p), full nelson (:0), abby yearns to be inside you, fuckin on the first date, reader has no idea abby knows abt her sex work, kinda awkward first-time sexual tension lol, abby has a fat dick (:D), this is so long???????

18+ mdni (goodbye minors)

it’s the next day and abby is still trying to work up the courage to text you. she doesn’t want to sound boring, but she also doesn’t wanna overdo it. she’s laying in bed, your number typed into the chat, her fingers hovering over the keys.

‘hey, you gave me your number at the coffee shop yesterday and i thought you were really pretty so… i’m abby,’

her thumb was now just hovering over the blue arrow to send the message before hitting it, eventually sending the message. abby immediately shuts her phone off tossing it on the bed trying to find something to distract herself with while she waits.

abby decides to just turn on some show she’s seen a million times. a few hours later you text her back with a ‘hiii abby!! thank u!! sorry, was at work :( i’d love to do somethin w you sometime soon if ur down :p,’

she’s almost, almost, embarrassed at how fast she replies. ‘you’re okay, how was work today? and i’d love to. what did you have in mind?,’

‘well, if u wanted to hangout today, i wouldnt mind just gettin to know you like at mine or somethin, i’ll cook u dinner too whatcha want :3,’

abby’s gonna blow up. ‘i’m not picky, surprise me. and that sounds great, how does 7 sound then?’

‘perfect, i’ll see you soon!’ you send her your address in a separate message with a little heart. abby could actually pass away right now.

2 hours later it’s 7:05 and abby’s standing outside your door, not wearing anything too special— just jeans and a shirt taking a deep breath before knocking. a few second later she hears the door unlocking and opening.

she sees you, looking cute as ever. she then hears the sweetness of your voice inviting her in, abby mustering up a smile through the nerves.

“okay, so, i‘m makin’ chicken alfredo if that works for you?”

“s’perfect,” abby slurs out, practically soaking her underwear watching you cook, mainly your ass in those stupid leggings. is she wearing underwear? floods abby’s thoughts.

“almost done. if you wanna go sit down i’ll get everything ready,” you turn around giving abby a quick smile before returning to your cooking.

abby’s in heaven right now. you sitting across from her, just getting to know each other. finding out you both actually have so much in common makes her feel ecstatic. you guys are having such a good time talking you both nearly forget about the food.

“you’re a great cook,” abby says as you, blushing, take her plate from her placing it in the sink after rinsing it off.

“thank you! tried really hard on this one actually,” you say, giggling. yeah, abby’s obsessed. she needs to be inside you, making you a mess on her cock-

“wanna watch a movie ‘er somethin’?” you interrupt her thoughts.

“what kinda movie?”

“was thinkin’ something scary, if you’re down?”

“works for me,” abby replies, moving to sit next to you on the couch as you scroll through the vast amount of horror movies on whatever streaming app you picked.

“oh! how ‘bout the new texas chainsaw?” you don’t even give abby a chance to reply before you hit play— not like she really cares what you guys watch anyway.

abby has her arm around the back of the couch manspread while you have your knees tucked under you half sitting on your butt half on your heels next to her. within the first five minutes of the movie, she has her arm draped over your side mindlessly drawing patterns into your hips and thighs while you lay on her chest.

you guys get about halfway through the movie before abby breathes out, “hey.”

“yeah?” you reply, picking your head up to meet her eyes.

abby glances at your lips, before asking, “can i kiss you?” to which you just nod a bunch.

abby leans in meeting you halfway to finally kiss you. not long after, she’s grabbing your hips pulling you onto her lap so you’re straddling her, deepening the kiss.

you pull away first, gasping for air. abby’s also gasping for air, but she could kiss you til she passes out, honestly.

“tell me if you want to stop at any point, okay?” abby breathes out as she toys with the hem of your shirt. you nod as a reply.

“words,” abby says bluntly.

“yes,” you breathe out, still catching your breath. abby wastes no time pulling you out of your shirt and bra before taking her own off.

“god, fuck, c’mere,” she’s pushing your hips up so that your tits are eye level with her before she immediately latches onto your tit. one hand is groping your ass while her other hand is toying with your other nipple. jesus, her hands are so fucking cold you’re practically shaking under her touch.

your hands run down her chest, stopping to play with her tits before sliding down to the button on her jeans.

“take ‘em off,” you whine out. abby happily obliges, gently grabbing u by the hips before laying you down on the couch. she gets up undoing her pants sliding them off. she’s immediately on top of you, thumbs under the waistband of your leggings breathing out a “can i?”

“please,” your voice barely above a whisper, but abby’s already peeling your leggings off realizing you, in fact, were not wearing underwear.

“s’like you wanted to get fucked tonight,” abby lets out a small laugh.

“by you,” you shoot back as you spread your legs in front of her making abby blush as she leans forward to kiss your inner thighs, seeing your glistening cunt clenching around nothing. she starts sucking like she’s about to leave a hickey, making your legs shake from the sensitivity.

“abby, please,” you breathe out.

“please what?

“fuck me, abby, please need to feel you,” you whine out reaching out to wrap your fingers in her hair.

“don’t have a strap, ba-”

“i do,” you cut her off. “come with me,” you pull her up by her hair giving her a quick kiss before getting up, taking abby’s hand, and practically skipping to your bedroom. once you open the door abby immediately recognizes it. your bed in the center of the room against the back wall, a desk across from the bed, probably where you set up your camera. what’s new to her is all the decorations that she didn’t usually see when you were live.

“cute room,” abby states as you’re digging through your closet for a dildo.

“thanks! what kinda cock you want?” you ask her it so casually abby nearly.

“how many do you have?” abby questions you back.

“a bunch,” you giggle.

“what, are you some kind of pornstar?” abby smirks and you can practically hear the smirk in the way she asks the question. you have the dildo in your hand, but you freeze at her question. you know it’s a joke, a rhetorical question, so you just laugh it off bringing her the dick.

“you seem like a fat cock kinda girl,” you smile handing abby the harness and dildo.

“and you seem like you love taking fat cock,” abby fires back sliding the harness up her legs, securing it. “now where were we?” abby says, sliding her hands up your stomach to your breasts watching them spill out from her fingers. you lean up to catch her lips in another kiss, quickly deepening it by tilting your head to the side and allowing abby’s tongue access to your mouth. she’s grabbing your hips and placing you on your bed before attacking your neck and chest with kisses.

“fuck, these tits are perfect,” abby says as she slides two fingers down your cunt, teasing your entrance. “you can take two fingers, right, baby? gotta get you ready for my cock,” you practically moan at her words and she’s barely touching you. is she even real?

“yes, yes! please just touch me, abby,” abby responds by sliding her middle and ring finger into you searching for that soft spot. she’s fucking her fingers back into you,, eventually finding your g-spot, hitting it with the tips of her fingers making you let out a mix between a gasp and a moan.

“found it,” she smirks to herself. she really can’t believe she’s actually touching you right now; this is like a dream come true for her. countless nights of her watching you touch yourself and her finally being the one to make you shake and moan under her touch. she has to fuck you.

“do you have lube?” she asks to which you nod telling her where it is. abby gets up squirting some lube onto the cock you gave her, taking her hand making sure it’s covered.

“are you ready?” she asks looking up at you, her hand still on her cock, stroking it like it’s attached to her. you give her a few eager nods followed by a ‘yes’. abby walks over to you, pushing you on your back before asking if you’re ready again like she’s scared she’s gonna hurt you

“please fuck me, abby,” you get right to the point and abby nods before pushing the dildo into your weeping cunt with her hips. the way you’re gasping and whining just from her putting it in makes abby want to absolutely ruin you. abby needs to fuck you so well every time you touch yourself on camera all you can think of is her.

abby begins rocking her hips back and forth at a pretty slow pace, nearly pulling out completely before pushing herself right back in, where she belongs, you letting out little whimpers every time she pushes back in.

“faster, please, abby,” you whine out as she’s pulling out.

“gladly,” abby takes your legs, throwing them over her shoulders before leaning forward to properly fuck you. abby’s fucking you faster like you requested but it’s still not deep enough for your liking.

“abby abby deeper, please please,” you plead for her.

“can i try somethin’?” abby questions to and you, obviously, tell her yes. before you know it abby’s completely pulled out of you, whining at the empty feeling, before she’s leaning her upper back on the bed frame, patting her lap for you to straddle her.

“face away from me, baby,” abby says.

“what’re you plannin’?” you giggle out, smiling at her.

“‘ts a surprise,” she smiles back before patting her lap again to which you throw a leg over her lap (abby definitely slapped your ass) before settling right in front of the dildo.

“now what?” abby put her feet up on the bed and threads her arms underneath your thighs beginning to pull them up towards your chest.

“relax f’me,” she says quietly from behind you causing you to relax into her hold, your back to her chest. once you’re fully in abby’s grasp, you take her cock sliding it back into you.

“you good?” abby questions to which you nod and abby’s hands snake around the back of your neck, forcing you to watch you take her cock.

before you can comprehend it, abby’s fucking you like you’ve never been fucked before. you can feel how tight it is, how deep she is, all of it— you practically feel her in your throat and all you can do is take it and watch.

abby’s grunts mixed with your whines and moans is making abby soak through her fucking underwear

“fuckfuckfuck abby, y’re too deep! please please,”

“you can take it— know you can,” abby replies not letting up on her assault on your cunt. you’re a fucking mess of moans and tears and drool and you can barely handle it when abby’s hand snakes to your clit rubbing it in fast tight circles with her two fingers.

you’re practically fucking sobbing with how she’s stimulating your clit and constantly fucking up into your g-spot. your eyes closes shut as you’re so close to coming.

“eyes open, breathe,”

“can’t— i can’t s’too much, ‘m gonna come,” you’re shocked you can even get out even that much.

“‘m not stoppin’ you,” abby says, not letting up in the slightest. you do your best to keep your breaths steady, but the way your orgasm is building up, it feels different.

“abby… abby abby,” you chant her name, whether it’s a warning or a plea, she doesn’t care. all abby cares about right now is the way her hands and thighs are being soaked right now. your mouth is hanging open in a silent scream just watching the way you gush all over abby’s cock.

“did you just fuckin’ squirt,” abby’s giddy right now.

“are you even human?” you breathe out to which abby just lets out a laugh, releasing you from her grasp causing you to practically collapse on top of her.

“so the answer’s yes,” abby smirks, brushing her fingers gently along the back of your neck, where she knows she definitely put too much pressure on while fucking you.

you feel her slide out of you as you roll onto your stomach eyeing her up and down. you freeze as you hear her say

“i know you’re a camgirl,”

“what?”

pt 3 maybe :3 this is the longest thing ive ever written

[w2sology]

can i request a wedding day fic for harry pls? no worries if not. could also be a wedding day hc if that’s easier. thank u!

YES YES YES i'm so in love w this idea.... and i’m also so in love w harry 😣 tried not to make the descriptions of things too specific bc i know everyone has a different idea of what they want their wedding to be like, so most of this is up to ur imagination! <3

mrs wroetoshaw, harry lewis.

summary: you and harry get married, and it's full of so many emotions.

warnings: language, wedding jitters, that's about it!

you both being a nervous mess. it's a canon event.

both of you in separate rooms but still feeling united in your panic

the boys would be trying to reassure harry whilst he pretty much undresses himself in stress, complaining that it's too hot

the girls trying to make sure you don't cry and ruin your makeup

but eventually you both get over it, realising that it's your special day and it's also the day you and harry become best friends for life

the girls all telling you how they've always known you were going to be mrs wroetoshaw from the beginning and you tearing up at that

he would be an absolute mess seeing you walk down the isle, he told everyone he wouldn't cry but god was he wrong...

is it really harry if he doesn't drop a few jokes in his speech? exactly.

olive as your ring bearer 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

once the ceremony part is over, everyone is honestly so glad that they made it through in one piece

being ambushed with kisses and hugs of congratulations from everyone !!!!

harry had his suit matching your dress, down to his socks and underwear bc happy wife = happy life xo

the after party... the boys literally could not wait for it

best man and maid of honour speeches pretty much exposing the both of you but you wouldn't have it any other way!

the slow dance us a must, and even though he'd nag on about how cringe it was, harry would be loving every moment of it

"you're so beautiful" and "can't believe i made you mine for life" being whispered to you by him all day

harry can't wait to use the phrase "my wife", he's literally been using it since you two got engaged tbf

"can this thing end already so we can christen the new home?"

"harry! we haven't even cut the cake yet."

handsy harry. SO handsy. he literally can't believe that he's married because he never saw himself as the type to settle down, but here he is and he's gonna show that off

once he has a few drinks in him he really starts to let loose

and so do you!

dancing with your girls, holding a random child's hands as you bask in the joy of the day

the older guests start to retire to their hotel rooms or homes before everyone else, and when the party starts to die down, harry quite literally scoops you up in his arms and leaves

lots and lots of smiley kisses, kisses on your cheek... anywhere that he can reach

harry fiddling with your ring, something he's always done when you wear them but this time, it feels more special.

you already making plans on what you'll do as a married woman, harry rolling his eyes but you already know he'd be right behind you

he'd be in such a hurry trying to undress himself when you guys get back to your room, a giggling mess in between a make-out session as he tries to take off his top

"i love you so much," he's mumbling to you. "my pretty, pretty wife."

and you're in for a hell of a ride.

[nanaminsmoon]

hiiii, so sorry if this is a lil long but bare w me pls, i love ur writing btw <3

ok: reader & plug!ony broke up about a year ago bc of something ony did (something bad but not like 100% unforgivable) but the feelings never left. he’s been tryna get her back over the year but she wasn’t budging cus she hadn’t seen any growth. recently tho she’s noticed he’s growing & she misses him. then at a function, she sees him pop out w a new girl & all their friends are staring at her like waiting for a reaction and in a littleee moment of jealousy, she goes up to ony like “you’re mine for life right?” and he jumps away from the other girl so fast like he BEEN waiting on this news 😭😭

omg thank you!! i was about to write something just like this but this is so much better!! i hope you like it and i'm sorry it took so long i just wanted it to be okay😭

cw: kinda angsty, oral (f receiving), car sex, ony calls reader 'ma', n word usage, mentions of breeding.

wc: 3913

atonement is hardly ever easy, and ony knew that first-hand. closing the gap between you and the person you once held closest to you can, surprisingly, be very difficult. even if a year of ‘separation’ is spent showing up at your ex-lovers’ door, or workplace, nail tech, or hair lady’s house. sometimes getting back to where you once where is needlessly difficult. especially if your definitions of said place are vastly different.

from the outside looking in, you and ony’s relationship had been picture perfect. he loved you as much as you loved him, and he wasn’t shy about it. everyone knew not to even look at you wrong, because they knew that they would have ony to deal with—and no one fucked with ony’s girl. except for him. because that picture had been held by a fraudulent frame; purposely hung over the large dent in your relationship. that being, his occupation.

from small kickbacks, to rich white kids who want to snort rebellion off their house keys, everyone had one thing in common—ony. no party started until ony got there and, as happy as you were for him, that didn’t come without its burdens. ony was almost always out dealing, giving you very little quality time to hang out. on the few occasions you got his undivided attention for more than a few hours, your peace would be interrupted by the ear-splitting noise erupting from his stupid nokia burner phone.

of course, small huffs of disappointment would slip past your lips when he told you that he had to leave. but you were used to it now, and that’s what helped ony sleep at night; knowing that you had become inured to his disconcerting disappearances, and abrupt reappearances. you knew that other people needed him, even if it meant that your needs were temporarily pushed aside. one time you had asked him, why it always had to be him that they called, and his response had been:

”my shit is the best, ma.”, said through a chortle, as he put his shoes on by your front door.

”i get that, but what about me?”, your arms crossed, as you tilted your head at your man—ony’s weakness. once you did that, with that look in your eyes, he couldn’t say no to you. but tonight, his priorities were different.

just let me do what i gotta do, and i’ll come right back to you. then i’m yours for the whole night.”, he had reassured, kissing your temple.

”just for the night?”, you scoffed.

”for life. now stay here, and i’ll be back.”, and that would appease you for the evening. but there’s only so much cracking one heart can do, before no adhesive can keep it whole, and it shatters into a million pieces. that night, you stripped yourself of ony’s shirt you had been wearing, and threw it into the corner of your bedroom; it smelt too much like him, and you hated it.

harmless hatred became deep disdain on the evening of your birthday. you had organised a dinner for a few of your closest friends and family, and had vehemently stressed to ony that he had to be there on time. because, if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t just be wasting your time, but he’d be wasting that of those closest to you as well. and he had promised you that if there’s something that had to be handled during the time of your dinner, he’d get connie or eren to do it so he could be with you. but 15 minutes of waiting for him became 30. and 30 soon became an hour, and your friends grew reasonably irate due to hunger. so you said they could order, and you’d just call ony one more time. but in a time where all you wanted to hear was your boyfriend’s voice, all you were met with was rings on the other line. that sound resounded all over the side of your face. and that feeling grew once the realisation hit that had you been a client, he wouldn’t have let the phone ring for more than five seconds. and that gave you a lot to think about.

you didn’t know how long the dinner lasted because your focus had remained on keeping your tears from falling into your food. you hated how pitiful you looked, lifting your head up every time someone walked into the restaurant, and the crestfallen expression that landed on your face each time you saw it wasn’t ony. it made no sense to you how the man who swore he would do anything for you, the man who placed a band on your ring finger, promising you that one day he’d marry you. the man who swore he had never loved anyone more than you, refused to put you before something so fleeting.

ony finally did show up though…two hours after the dinner had ended. heartbroken cries in your bedroom, had constantly been interrupted by calls coming from ony’s contact. but every single one went unanswered; he needed to feel what you felt when he had embarrassed you in front of your loved ones. though mere missed calls could never compare to the taste of your celebratory dinner food meshing awkwardly with the swallowed cries in your throat, you had to make him feel a morsel of the anguish he had put you through.

if ony could’ve gone full 2000s rnb music video; shirtless, singing outside your window with his chain blowing in the windy rain, he would’ve done. he would’ve even started throwing pebbles if he could, but your apartment was too high on your building. so he just settled on incessantly pressing the button next to your door number. and, after the nth try, you opened the door for him and he ran inside—pressing the elevator button a thousand times once he got in. and, just as he was about to knock on the door, it opened. and you stood on the other side, utterly unimpressed; bonnet on, your own pyjamas (instead of one of his shirts), and eyes reddened by tears. the impact caused by his heart unceremoniously dropping to the pit of his stomach caused a soft sigh to leave his mouth. then his lips began moving to explain himself.

“look, i'm sorry. i lost track of ti—”, his explanations were waved off—your own thoughts outweighing whatever he had to say to you.

“we're done, ony.”, was all you said to him before closing the door, and ony’s brain turned off, then back on again because what the fuck did you just say??

“y/n, open the door”, he banged on the door. and, not wanting any noise complaints, you opened it.

“what?”, you scowled.

“the fuck you mean done? talk to me”, ony’s hand reached out to yours, but quickly retreated when you pulled back from him. you had never done that; even when you were mad at him, you at least gave him a chance to get back into your good books again.

“you missed my birthday dinner, ony”, your voice was small, tears about to fall yet again.

“i know, and i'm sor—”,

“two years in a row.”,

“like i said, i'm sor—”,

“and my graduation, the party we had when i finally got my drivers license, the lunch you promised me on my first day at my new job. and you were meant to be my date at my sisters wedding.”, every example was punctuated by your fingertip harshly poking at his chest, and the tears just started falling on their own.

“i'm sorry, y/n”, ony’s voice started cracking, as his hand embraced the hand you had been poking him with.

“sorry isn't good enough anymore, ony. i deserve someone who prioritises me”,

“but everything i do is for us.”, he kissed your hand, “imma use this money to buy you ever—”,

“do you not understand that i don't want your money or gifts? i want you, ony.”, your breathed out, exasperation deeply set in your voice, and in your slumping posture, “anyone could give me bags and shoes, ony. but only you could give me your time. but you won’t, and that's the problem”

“so what, this is it?”,

“until you figure yourself out, yeah.”, you slid your hand from him, “it pains me because i love you so much, but i can’t keep living like this. if you're not ready for a girlfriend then you should've never got with me”

“but i am ready”, he pleaded.

“then act like it.”. were the words that echoed in ony’s head every time he showed up to the places he saw you posting on your story—heart holding hopes that your paths would cross. you didn’t know how he did it, but ony became your shadow for nearly the whole year you spent separated. even when you told him to give it up, he refused; sending bouquets of flowers to your workplace every few days, talking to you through your friends and family, and even showing up to your job to make up for that lunch he promised you. it hurt you to turn him away when you could see in his eyes that he would give up the world to have you in his orbit again. but, when you would ask him about where he got the money to even buy you these flowers in the first place, his silence was very telling.

but word on the street was that ony was a changed man now. your sources told you that he wasn’t dealing as much, and he had gotten a job. those sources being his instagram story that you watched through a burner account. seeing him everywhere made it impossible for you to wash yourself of him completely, so desparate times called for desparate measures. you missed that man so much, it was driving you crazy. it pissed you off seeing him being the man you had asked him to be, but not having the chance to bask in his progress. your love for ony wouldn’t vanish overnight, but it sure as hell hadn’t faded in the year you had been separated either. you kept his shirts and hoodies, and the promise ring he bought you was still on your finger.

so elated didn’t even begin to explain the feeling in your chest when, upon arriving at some house party, one of your girls told you that ony was there too. you tried to not seem so eager, but you had no control over your heart beating rapidly at the idea that you might see him again. all you needed was for him to apologise one more time, and you’d be all his. that was until you came to find that there was a hole blocking your reunion—that hole being in the shape of some girl giggling in his face, as his arm sat around her waist. every fibre of your being urged you to stomp over there, and scream his ear off. but he wasn’t your man anymore so there was nothing you could do but kiss your teeth and glower that them.

no man, not even ony, could get in the way of you and your friends enjoying yourselves. so that’s exactly what you did. for an hour, or two, ony didn’t exist and you just laughed and danced with your friends. however, the end of that would be marked when you stood, talking some guy you had just met, and one of your friends nudged you and nodded in ony’s direction.

“that doesn't bother you?”, she asked, obviously asking about the girl sat on ony’s lap.

“why would it?”, you shrugged back.

“you ain't say you missed the nigga?”, your other friend chimed in.

“okay? that doesn't mean i want him back”, you lied through your teeth.

“so you’re just missing him as hobby?”, sasha laughed.

“leave me alone.”, you chided, and your friends dropped the whole thing. but you wished those saltine whispers of jealousy would leave your eyes, and let you at least pretend to enjoy yourself in peace.

and if it wasn’t them ruining your fun, it was the girl’s friends staring at you.

“why are her friends looking at me?”, you whispered to connie. he had come over to speak to you, and that had caught ony’s attention. mainly because he wondered why you were willing to speak to his friend, but not him.

“they’re gloating.”, connie put a comforting arm around you, and pulled you closer to himself.

“well, tell them to stop.”, as if you could feel ony’s eyes on you, you moved connie’s arm from you, and connie laughed before putting it back where it was.

“they won’t. in their mind, she stole ony from you.”, he explained, and you scoffed.

“pfft, i could get that nigga back anytime i wanted”, you retorted, earning some knowing looks from your friends, before unprecedented words fell from sasha’s mouth.

“then do it.”, she nudged you, “you keep saying you want him so bad, go get him. he’s your man. go collect him”, that didn’t sound like a suggestion, it sounded like a dare. and you were never one to back down from a dare.

“fuck it”.

you didn’t know where your strides were leading you until you were barging past ony’s friends to link your arm around his own. at first, his body went into fight or flight because he thought he was about to be robbed, then calm came in the sound of your voice,

“ony, baby, where did you go? i've been looking for you everywhere”, you made sure to stick yourself onto him, and he didn’t move from you because he was too busy comprehending what the fuck was going on.

“y/n?”,

“i thought you guys were done?”, miss.whatever-her-name-was, linked ony’s other arm with her own, and pulled him towards herself.

“yeah, so did i”, ony spoke under his breath, looking down at you in bewilderment as he thought to himself; ”how much did i fucking smoke?”.

“who’s done?”, you looked up at him, “you’re mine for life, right?”, you pouted up at him, and all those memories of that night he had promised you he wouldn’t be long, came flooding back—ony folded immediately.

“always.”, he grinned at you, simultaneously yanking his arm away from whatever her name was.

“ony?”, she complained—now it was your turn to gloat.

“what?”, he sneered at her.

“you told me you guys were done”, she whined, and he rolled his eyes at her.

“well then don’t believe everything a nigga tells you”, was his final rebuttal before he pulled you outside.

at first, you just sat in silence, taking in the cool summer breeze. but ony had questions and, more importantly, he wanted to hear your voice.

“you forgive me then?”, his elbow gently met your arm.

“who said that?”, you stared down at your feet, kicking into the ground beneath you.

“you don't forgive me but you wanna do all that shit back there?”, he laughed.

“she didn't look good for you”, you finally looked up at him, and ony just laughed at you.

“you don't know her”,

“i just got that vibe”, you feigned a shudder, eyes still on him.

“what'd you really want, y/n?”, his index finger lifted your chin.

“you.”, your frank demeanour, and sincere eye contact, blew ony’s eyes wide open.

“well, you got me.”, as much as ony had changed in that year, his love for you remained incorrigible, and he’d be dumb to try and convince you otherwise. so he wouldn’t; he’d been wanting you back for far too long, and he’d finally gotten what he wanted.

“that easy?”, you teased.

“even if you’re not mine, i’ll always be yours, y/n. you know that”, ony’s words directed themselves at your lips; brown irises stuck onto your shining gloss.

“well then…can i be yours again?”, you muttered apprehensively, and the pause after that comment was unreadable.

“y’don’t even have to ask, c’mere”, ony reached his hand out to you.

gentle fingers, interlocked with yours, led you out of the party, and down a road that would end at ony’s car—parked overlooking the local area. he wasted no time; unlocking it before opening the back door, and gesturing for you to get in.

"already? you don’t at least want to talk first?”, you laughed at how keen he was, and a lazy smirk graced his face.

”we’ll talk after. get in.”, any anger, or disappointment, built up over the time you were together, had been mollified with just one comment. missing ony was something you never wanted to do again, and seeing the person he had apparently become, meant that you probably never would. all memories of past arguments, and splits, dispersed in ony’s mind once his lips met yours in a fervent kiss. it was one of longing, and regret. the heat emanating off his body causing particles of his internal regret to fill the inside of the car. you could feel it bouncing off your skin, as his tongue met with yours, and his hands kneaded at your flesh through your clothes. ultimately moving south to help you shimmy your way out of your jeans and underwear. he wouldn’t take them off completely, just leave them by your ankles as he laid you on your back, his mouth already placing soft kisses on your upper thigh. that lasted all of five seconds before ony’s tongue was wrapping around your clit, sucking on it gently. for him, this was a meal that was long overdue, and you could feel it in the way he ate you out like a starved man. taking no breaks; wet noises and thirsty moans, omitted by the ever-moving mouth entertaining your core, pervaded the vehicle.

ony had always luxuriated in eating you out, so it wasn’t long until you came; a rivulet dousing his lower face, before he finally came up for air.

”you still taste as good as i remember”, he uttered lowly, moving to give you a taste of yourself as he pressed his lips against yours. his kisses were haste as his hands fumbled to pull down his jeans and boxers, to angle himself at your entrance. the way you took in that first inch of him had him incapacitated; his forehead dropped to meet yours, while deep groans left his mouth.

”fuck…”, ony had to pause to compose himself before he gently pushed the rest of his length inside you. once he did, he just stayed there; eyes locked with yours, thanks to the streetlights, and you could’ve sworn that this man was close to tears with the way his eyes were glossing over.

the way he was fucking you was ineffable; a year was nothing compared to the others ony had spent studying your body, and the things it reacted to. like the way you’d grow tighter around him at his hands pressing your legs against your chest, as he fucked into you. even in the confined space, head crouched down so he didn’t hit the ceiling, ony still fucked you like you were in the comfort of his bedroom—with all the space, and time, in the world. his ireful tip would caress that spongy spot inside of you, over and over again, making your head spin. all those years of learning your body had not been in vain, because a few minutes in that position, and you came around him. keening his name, as your back lifted off the leather seats. ony was planning on taking you back to his place, and making up for lost time properly. but, for now, he would just turn you around and fuck into you from the back—your hands immediately finding the steamy windows,

”don’t do that, ma. people will know what we’re doin’ in here”, he chuckled at you and you moaned out a distorted version of,

”and the moving car doesn’t make it obvious?”. somehow, ony understood you; he was just used to your fucked out rebuttals, and he scoffed at you before giving the moving flesh surrounding your hips two quick slaps. your hands grabbed at anything they could to gain balance, ultimately deciding on the arm rest on the door. and ony’s hands would follow suit, but as he went to intertwine your fingers, his hands were met with cold metal. it was pretty dark in there, so he couldn’t really make out what it was, but a fleeting headlight revealed the ring he had bought you.

“still got that ring on?”, he smiled to himself.

“you p-promised me…”, you stammered out.

“that i’d marry you.”, his eyes softened at the fact that you had been wearing that ring, despite not being together. all because of that lovestruck vow he had made you,

“and imma keep to that promise. imma marry you, then imma fuck some babies into you”, he spoke to you, “that okay with you?”, you moaned out in loud agreement, and that drove ony to fuck you harder.

“good.”, the thought of you being his wife, sat in your marital bed, with his child in your arms sent him over the edge, and ony came in you. deep hums, containing declarations of his love, spilt all over the back of your neck. but his hips didn’t still because he could feel you coming again.

once you both came down from your orgasms, ony laid you down on your side, before pulling his boxers and jeans up and leaving the car momentarily to turn the car on. he opened the windows slightly, before returning to the back of the car. his back would soon be attached to the back door, yours against his chest as your fingers intertwined. even though you hadn’t covered yourself yet, and his nut was leaking out of you onto the leather seats, everything just seemed perfect. in its own weird way; you in ony’s arms again, and his lips pressing loving kisses on your temple.

”y’know it would’ve taken just one more knock at my front door for me to forgive you?”, you looked up at him. and, once the initial shock subsided, he chuckled at you.

”but i kinda think it’s better this way.”, he shrugged.

”how?”, you sat up to face him properly.

”it felt good to finally be able to give you my attention when you asked it of me.”, he smiled, reaching out to stroke your cheek, ”no interruptions. just us.”, after all the emotional turmoil, it was nice hearing that word again; ”us”.

”for life.”, you kissed his knuckle.

”for life.”

© Rights owned by nanaminsmooninc. Do not repost without permission.

[shizunitis]

No, ur absolutely so right about Bingcest. Preach louder because like. It’s just so fun. Any reason why they would be doing it is so fun. Is Bingge fucking Bingmei to show him how he needs to fuck Shizun? Is it a domination thing? What crazy kinks would Bingmei learn from Bingge? How would he try and incorporate them with Shizun? So many questions. I want Bingge to bite Bingmei’s lips when they kiss.

anon i love you and am willing to go through the abyss for you empty-handed and with my hands tied. will give you my firstborn. thank you for letting me talk about this please never leave me

now that the bingmei rp is over, and keeping in mind that i am forever sleep deprived, in a vaguely bingge mood, and also very sorry for what that means for any passersby, here’s my answer. horniness and thoughts (hopefully coherent enough) under the cut

though i find the shizun sandwich version of bingcest to be extremely tasty and a great apperitif, i feel like the pure bingge-bingmei storylines my brain throws at me every now and then are so fucking good (read: hhNnNg) on their own.

a non-exhaustive list of some ideas i didn’t ever think too deeply about but like for reasons:

what if bingge is bingmei’s shizun.

what if bingmei gets stranded in pidw.

what if bingge accompanies bingmei in the abyss.

what if instead of only having bingge and bingmei, we also throw in oo!lbh into the mix and make this the worst throuple to have ever existed.

what if the system fucks up and there’s two binghe’s from the very beginning, twins or clones or whatever, and they brave the world on their own so as not to strain the washerwoman’s already precarious situation further than they did the first time around.

what if bingmei wishes very, very hard for a father during his disciplehood, and the system plops bingge into his world when shen yuan is mia.

what if bingge goes out and tries to find the svsss world again but ends up in oo!pidw.

what if bingge and bingmei live to the ends of their lives and meet after the universe is wiped as cosmic beings and they have incomprehensible sex to soothe the pain.

what if bingmei suspects bingge came back to steal shizun during the monthly wifeplots, and just jumps the gun and goes after the fucker directly.

what if modern au.

what if modern au where they’re separated at birth.

what if actual lab clones of each other!

et cetera (many more examples. none of which i can think of right now and if i’m being honest? half of these i thought up on the fly, so i was lying. fibbing. other words. never ever assume i know what i’m talking about)

in any and all these situations shen qingqiu and/or shen yuan could and perhaps should be integrated, but for my purposes he can take a moment to breathe. i’ll return him his husbands shortly.

back to the point: i love every iteration of bingcest.

bingge and bingmei being very alpha vs. alpha about fucking and literally fighting for dominance. bingmei being horrible at kissing and bingge getting annoyed with the teeth thing and showing him how to actually bite someone (stealing your desires as they perfectly align with mine, anon) and then finding out that what bingge would consider lowly and ignoble (is that how you use the word? probably not), bingmei blushes and whines for so prettily.

exchanging blood and it fails to do anything but induce arousal in the other and then using that as a way to torment each other.

i want the snapping teeth and the clawing and the violence. the almost-tangible, suffocating hatred and frustration. them choking on their leashes tied together without their knowledge. choking on them where the’re tied to opposite ends of the bed as they try to get to the other. and so forth

but soft bingcest works beautifully too. don’t know how they’d end up in that situation but i’m picturing it and it’s very nice.

bingge’s vanity and desire to be perfect projected onto his own self staring back at him, bingmei’s bratty disobedience challenging bingge’s desire to subjugate and conquer and take, all of this culminating in the two of them understanding their differences but also loathing them in a way. why is he different, he’s me, why can’t he understand, why isn’t he doing what i would, why does he hate me, the likes

oh!! bingmei should yell that at bingge actually. or growl it while he pins bingge down to get him to listen to him. and bingge should want to say, “are you stupid?” but holds back because now isn’t the time. where did the brat even get that idea from? he’s done everything he could to make him stronger, to make him realise that the world is a shit, cruel place and they only have each other in the end, and yeah it’s a shit hand to be dealt, but is it? is it really?

hm. don’t really know where that thought ends up but i’m pretty sure it ends up with both of them fucking unbearably tenderly (by their standards) in a forest somewhere.

anyway.

i don’t mean to exclude shizun because. i wouldn’t fucking dare? but bingcest is. it’s dear to me. i’m a bingcest purist if you’d like, but bingcestqiu/yuan is second on the list. third is mobingcumplane/moshangbingqiu but that’s another thing altogether

(i have no actual clue if there’s ship names for these already. surely there are?)

BUT. adding shizun into the mix is wonderful. i’ve rec’ed it before but through the eye of a needle is SUCH a good fic PLEASE give it a read it’s my favourite fic ever ever in the history of ever

i love the idea of shizun trying to tame these two idiots and failing miserably. i also love the idea of him succeeding. i want bingmei making bingge drink some ‘respect shizun’ juice and i want bingge to give bingmei some much needed ‘fuck shizun’ lessons. i want shizun to direct their every movement while he casually drinks his tea and pretends like he’s not foaming at the mouth seeing the two protagonists being “forced” to go at each other like they’re passionate, devoted lovers.

just.

bingcest…

there’s so much i want from bingcest. i want the guilt, and the confusion, and the rage! i want the angst! the territorial spats, the dick measuring contests (literal and metaphorical). the comfort! the. idk man they should be allowed to be horrible to each other, it’s not like they can die.

(holy shit what if one of them dies. fuck i’m exhausted but please. kill one of them and make the other revive him. somehow. maybe we can make regret of chunshan reality but it’s bingcest, if you understand)

but mainly i want the two pretty idiots humping each other’s thighs like teenagers. making bingge crawl for bingmei is also a very fun thought that would make him (plural) react in a very entertaining way. getting bingmei to power bottom is chef’s kiss when bingge’s on the other end. teaching bingge about the beauty of surrendering to his own self, which he does not trust with anything but also understands more than he’d like or wants to acknowledge is also neat. they would get up to degeneracies that i can’t speak of. i’m shy and also inarticulate about them

oooh also lebingcest. exactly the same as before but it’s better. because lesbian yaoi

[kiwi-but-the-bird-not-the-fruit]

Helloo

Ur nefero fics are soo good😙 Could you write something like maybe how much he worships reader?? Thank uu<3

Great minds think alike bestie I'd love to write this sooo here we go!

__________________________________________

Male Nefera x fem! Reader

Prompt: Nefero but he's just worshiping you

She her pronouns

Fluff/kissing/female worship/

Image not mine found in pinterest

(I'm obsessed this is literally how he sees you full goddes)

__________________________________________

Nefero looks at you with adoring eyes as you talked about the book you had just finished,eyes lit up,hands moving all around for emphasis on a specific part of the story that you said in I quote "was the most unrealistic thing ever" you keep talking/rambling off to your boyfriend at your table in the (just them since he liked days where it was just the two of you).

[Name] let out a frustrated sigh as she finished speaking "like it's totally crazy right Nefie?" You stopped waiting for his response "yes very" he nodded his head hoping you'd continue talking till your heart's content "thank you ugh, you get me" then she continued for the remaining lunch time while taking breaks to actually eat.

"Is there something on my face?" [Name] asked, quickly getting out a small mirror "No your fine, my jewel excuse my rudeness" he sets down the mirror from your hands and took it; placing it back in your purse "oh well that's okay, I love when you stare though please tell me i have nothing on my face next time haha" the ghoul looked away sheepishly "it's always nice to know you still look at me that way really" she said earnestly "I'll always admire your beautiful self,all day if you asked me too" Nefero took her hand in his smiling wide "hehe you got smile lines Nefie" "WHAT?!"

In their class Nefero is yet again looking at [Name] with heart shaped pupils in his purple eyes, he watched as you reapplied your lip gloss "so you like this color on me?" You turn your head to him and pointed at the lip gloss bottle and then your lips ``it looks absolutely Divine on you my queen" he told you sincerely

The two walk out of school the day had finished and now it was time to get you home "are you gonna stay home with me? I'm making dinner today" you asked your boyfriend looking at his hands intertwined "of course my jewel but I need to go home and change first" [Name] looked at him perplexed "but I have some of your clothes at my house, why not shower and change there?" She tilted her head "my jewel you only have my shirts not pants or shorts" he teased

"Ohhh haha right" she looked to the side "maybe I should steal your pants so you won't have to go and change" "What?" [Name] looked at him "Well if I have some of your clothes other than shirts you won't have to be apart from me! Plus we could shower together, did you know that can save our water bill" you tried to play it off with some "statistics"

Nefero held your face in his hands smirking at you;making your face feel hot"My dear we can do that anytime you wish no need for an excuse" he leaned in and kissed your lips gently,you hummed through the kiss then separated making Nefero pout "oh stop you big baby let's get going so you can change quickly at your house and take me to mine" "but don't you have to start dinner?"

"Nah my parents won't be home till late I have time" you explain " now come on I wanna choose your outfit" taking his hand [Name] dragged him to his limo

_________________________________

[Name] is seen in her kitchen cooking up a meat stew and some rice she wears a "kiss the cook" apron which happens a lot when Nefero is around so she thought why not buy it

She hums along the song on the radio as she puts in a some herbs in the stew and then stirred it thoroughly

Nefero is at the stool of the kitchen island sipping at the strawberry smoothies he made for the both of you with your blender "it smells incredible my jewel" he compliments, [Name] turns around with a smile "would you like to try the stew?" He eagerly nods anything you make was bound to be heavenly he felt so lucky he gets to try it first "Alright here" your bring a soup spoon to his lips and he opens his mouth and swallowing the the liquid gold, it was savory and spicy the meat was tender and with the potatoes, corn, and carrots made all the better.

"Ahhh that is absolutely exquisite" he looks into your eyes with a smile as he leans forward making a move to kiss you and you obliged "muaw!" You gave him a quick kiss dramatically sounding it, he immediately pouted "I want an actually kiss" you sighed and go around towering over him seductively "oh really?" He nodded again

"Alright only cause you asked" you lean down grabbing his collar and pulled him into a deep kiss, he opened his mouth and let you in, moaning as you dominated his tongue then you let him go "there" you panted " *deep exhale* thank you my queen" Nefero wraps his arms on your hip and leans his head onto your stomach while he's still sitting down.

[Name] ruffles his hair up giggling at his cuteness "of course my king" you stayed like that for a few more minutes until you said you had to check on the food which he whined but let you go

He can't help the way your presence makes him feel giddy with excitement, the smell of your sweet perfume, holding you in his embrace, bodies squished together, hearing your heartbeat as he rests his head on your chest at night.

"You look absolutely gorgeous" he said all of a sudden at the dinner table as you ate in comfortable silence "really?" Nefero nodded "you do and I just can't help saying it, in fact it's my duty to tell you any time I see fit, which to be frank is all the time" [Name] looked at him bewildered as if this was a new thing

Yet it wasn't but still it warmed your heart he still looked at you that way for a moment you didn't say anything then with a smile you responded "thank you, my love it means alot that you still admire me like this" she admitted "my queen" he held her hand "I cannot fathom a second in my life where I don't worship your entire being, it's in my nature to do so, for only you"

He lifted her hand and kissed it then continued up until he was met only inches away from her face, looking at her eyes [Name]'s breath hitch then Nefero kissed her cheek gently "would you let me worship you tonight my queen" he said above a whisper "well..." she looked at the clock "they won't be here in about another 6 hours..." she thought about it then looked at him patiently waiting 'why not' [Name] got up and dragged him by the sleeves and up to her bedroom "Let's see how much worship I can get you to say, that suddenly it sounds like a prayer~"

____________________________________________

I feel conflicted with this one, I like the way I wrote it but idk if it truly captured the promt but I feel like this is better than what I write previously

I tried my best but head empty no thoughts I guess, still hope you like it maybe I'm just having imposter syndrome

[pepi1989]

Hi love ur amazing 🫶 English isn’t my first language so I hope this makes sense. can you write a long story about Laver Cup where for the first time, a WTP player can join for a mixed doubles and a women’s match? And reader is the WTP tennis player on team Europe, with banter and mock rivalry between Team World since she’s close with them as friends but obviously being on opposing team means they have rivalry? And then both teams sitting on one sofa on the last day, Ben and reader getting very close together and flirting and the bench can picks up some of it and they both get asked separately on their team press conference?

Don't worry honey, your English is very good! Loved this idea, let's make it like they didn't make Ben play every doubles game lol

Rivals, or Something Like That - Ben Shelton

I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, watching Alcaraz and Zverev take on Team World. The match is intense, but it’s not what’s keeping my mind occupied. Across the court, in their red and black jackets, Ben and Frances are sitting on the Team World bench, loudly cheering for their teammates. And, of course, they’re throwing comments my way. Because why wouldn’t they? It’s Ben.

“[Y/N], you better be ready for a beatdown!” Ben’s voice echoes across the court, catching me completely off guard. He grins that grin, the grin while Frances chuckles beside him. I roll my eyes, trying to focus on the match, but honestly, all I can think about is what kind of beatdown he’s talking about. In tennis, obviously. Right?

I glance over at Grigor, who’s sitting next to me on the bench, and he just raises his eyebrows at me like he knows exactly what’s going through my head. “Don’t let him get in your head, [Y/N],” Grigor says with a smirk. I’m about to respond when Frances chimes in from across the court. “Don’t worry, [Y/N], we’ll go easy on you. We don’t want to make you cry.”

Oh, it’s like that?

“You two better focus on your team losing,” I shoot back, trying to hide my smirk. But Ben doesn’t let up. “We’ll see who’s crying when we’re done with you,” Ben calls, his voice all teasing but with this weird tension underneath it. It’s just banter, right? That’s what we always do. Except now, I can’t stop thinking about how Ben keeps looking over at me in between matches. And why is it that, every time he does, my stomach feels like it’s doing somersaults?

When the time finally comes for my match, I’m paired with Dimitrov against Ben and Frances. Of course it’s Ben. Because why wouldn’t it be? The whole thing feels weirdly set up, but I push those thoughts aside and focus. The first few rallies are tight, every point fought for. Ben’s powerful serves are no joke, but I’m managing to keep up. Still, every time I look across the net, I catch him looking at me, like we’re in some secret tennis duel only the two of us understand.

At one point, I miss a volley, barely, and Ben doesn’t let it slide. “Nice try, [Y/N],” he says with that smirk that’s becoming a little too familiar. “Need me to show you how it’s done?” Please. “Only if you want to lose faster,” I snap back, my heart racing, and not just because of the game.

But then Frances, being Frances, decides to make it even weirder. “Why don’t you two just get it over with already? You’ve been flirting all day.” I nearly choke on air. Excuse me? Ben just laughs, but the heat rushing to my face is undeniable. I shoot a glare at Frances, who is absolutely not helping. “Focus on the game, Frances,” I mumble, hoping no one else noticed. But, of course, everyone noticed.

After the match, we all end up backstage, completely exhausted. There’s this giant sofa that’s supposed to fit everyone, but honestly, it’s a miracle we’re not all on top of each other. And, because the universe has a sense of humor, I end up squished between Ben and Alcaraz. “Comfortable?” Ben asks, his voice a little too close for comfort as his leg presses up against mine. We’re basically sharing half the same cushion at this point, and I swear I can feel the warmth of his arm next to mine.

I don’t look at him, instead keeping my eyes on the ceiling, like that’s the most interesting thing in the world right now. “Oh yeah, super comfortable,” I deadpan, shifting slightly, but somehow, we end up even closer. The banter doesn’t stop, but now it’s all weirdly charged. I catch Ben’s grin out of the corner of my eye, and Frances, of course, just can’t let us be. “You two should really get your own sofa,” he mutters, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

I want to disappear. Is it that obvious? Ben just shrugs, leaning in a little more. “Hey, I’m not the one complaining.” At this point, Alcaraz and the rest of Team Europe are trying to stifle their laughter, but it’s no use. Everyone is in on the joke. Even Taylor Fritz from the other side of the room calls out, “Are you guys sure you’re on opposite teams? Because it doesn’t look like it.” “I’m about to switch teams if you keep this up,” I mutter under my breath, trying to ignore the fact that my face is probably bright red by now. Ben just smirks. “Don’t worry, [Y/N]. I’ve got room on Team World for you.”

What does that even mean?

The next day, we’ve won, and I’m sitting at the post-match press conference, trying to act like everything is normal. Except it’s not. Because the press? They’ve noticed everything. “So, [Y/N],” one journalist starts, and I can already tell this is going to be bad. “There’s been a lot of talk about your interactions with Ben Shelton during the tournament. Care to comment?”

I feel my face heat up, and my teammates are no help, stifling their laughter beside me. Dimitrov is the worst offender, elbowing me like he can’t wait to hear my answer. “We’re just friends,” I say, trying to play it off cool. But honestly, it sounds a lot less convincing than I wanted it to. The journalist presses on. “It seemed like there was a bit more than just friendly competition on that sofa yesterday.”

I hear someone, probably Zverev, laugh softly beside me. I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole. “Look, we were just… you know, teammates… on opposing teams…” What am I even saying?

Meanwhile, across the room, Ben’s handling his own press conference, and of course, they’re asking him about the exact same thing. “Ben, there seemed to be some extra chemistry between you and [Y/N] during the tournament. Can you tell us what’s going on there?”

I’m watching from the screen backstage, my face burning as I wait for his answer. Ben just grins, leaning into the mic like this is the most natural question in the world. “Oh, we’re just having a little fun,” he says, clearly enjoying this way too much. “She’s a great competitor, no more than that.” But then he glances at the camera, and I swear he winks. “You’ll have to keep watching, though. Who knows what might happen next?”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hello! I was going to req some hc’s or like a drabble for the narrator/jack? Both SFW & NSFW if you can but if you can’t it’s fine ^^ (ur literally carrying the tag on ur back LMAO)

Jack/The Narrator x Medical Staff Male Reader

Drabble

I tried writing this from Jacks perspective.

I have to get used to calling him Jack again, since I had to call him Joe in my assignment, since that’s what hes called in the book. This is based off of the books ending, so maybe google it if you don’t know it?

I had the idea of the reader being medical staff a while ago, and id love to explore it more with both Jack and Tyler, both as the same person or as separate people. No smut, but I hope that’s still good :)

on the shorter side, but enjoy

Heaven was a slow and dull place. Cold white walls, cold white floors, cold white clothes, bland tasteless food and angels watching over you, making sure you ate every bite and checking that you took all the tasteless little tablets in tiny cups. Their eyes would bore into you as you swallowed down the little things, some even wanted to see under your tongue to make sure you had taken them all. Just follow orders, open your mouth please, life your tongue, to the right, to the left, thank you, you can close your mouth now.

The only angel that mattered in this place was… him. I could never remember his name, even though he wore a nametag like every other angel. The only thing I could remember with certainty was his eyes. Unlike the other angels and God who looked at me with badly hidden fear and disgust, he looked at me with patience and warmth, so warm. I don’t even think my mother ever looked at me with that much care.

He was the first angel I saw when I woke up, his hand holding mine, his thumb rubbing light circles over the scar on the back of my hand. Over Tylers scar. I couldn’t speak the first month or two I was here, almost blowing your face off would do that to you, but he was always patient to me, waiting between his questions like I somehow had the ability to answer.

Even when I felt so empty and hollowed out, he would show up, turn me over and wipe me down, because I had become so invalid, I couldn’t even wash myself. Even the space monkeys that wandered the halls as cleaners or whatever else seemed to like him. My angel. My guardian angel.

Hes poor you know, he does this because he loves us low lives. His dad offed himself in front of him when he was a kid, his mom overdosed in the bathtub when he was a teen. His aunt that took him in beat him. Hes just as lowly as us, but he’s so kind, even us space monkeys, he always takes care of us Sir, you’ll love him Sir.

Sir.

Sir.

Sir.

That’s all they call me, waiting with bated breath for him to return. For their messiah, for their God Tyler Durden to return. But all that was left was me, a loose-limbed scarecrow of a person, all jagged edges, and shadowed eyes. My angel always made sure I took the pills, I didn’t even care if he made me swallow cyanide, poison or some other drug that would leave me braindead. As long as he caressed my scarred cheek with those warm careful fingers afterwards, and spoke to me in that soft voice.

He must have noticed how I preened under his praise, because my angel kept praising me from then on. Soon thoughts of Project Mayhem and Space Monkeys and Marla meant nothing. As long as my angel was there to hold me when I wailed and seized through the different treatments, nothing mattered.

My angel made my insides twist and warm in ways neither Marla nor Tyler had ever made them twist. The medication God made me take made it so I couldn’t get hard, but I swear if I could, just thinking about my angel’s lips would have left me rock solid.

I wanted him to stay with me, but apparently that wasn’t advisable. He had other souls to check on, others to shine his light upon. But I never wanted him to go. He always caressed my hair before leaving, telling me to be good before he returned, and so I was. The time without him blurred together into a mess with no meaning.

Simply waiting for my angel to return again.

[another-random-paradise]

Hiii! I saw ur account is open to Twisted Wonderland requests and I do hope I can make one request!

Maybe a request for Mozus Trein with an S/O(ofc they’re the same age as him) that is shy and timid but was once an outgoing teenager when they were young and how the two bond now that they’re seeing each other again with both of them knowing that both of them obviously had a crush on one another since teens but separated due to familial circumstances(def didn’t inspire this by an oc of mine, hahahahahaaa-)

Thank you so much for the request!! and yeahh, many of my ideas are based of OC's- Since you didn't specify, I decided to write this as a short fic, since i've been wanting to write one for quite a while now, i hope that's okay!! (tbh I'm so used to writing headcanons, that if you really want to, you can also read this as headcanons) Hope you enjoy :) Also, i refuse to take Treins girl dad privilege's so i simply turned his marriage into an arranged one-

---------------------------------------------------------

Trein and Childhood crush!Reader reconnecting after years apart

Characters: Mozus Trein

Format: Short Fic (972 words)

Warnings: None that i can think of

Trein was rummaging through some old stuff, with his wife's death a few years ago, he decided to declutter, when he stumbled upon an old box. An old box, filled with memories of his time as a teenager. Many of them included pictures of the two of you, how could they not, when he used to spend most of his time wishing he could spend every waking moment with you. Trein has always been an orderly person, perhaps that's why he loved you, you and your outgoing personality, never shying away from anything. If he was completely honest, he still does, and there is nothing he regrets more, than not marrying you.

He still remembers the day like it was yesterday, when his parents told him he was to be married, to a woman he didn't even know, once they were both eighteen, how it broke his heart. Of course, it had to be the same day he planned to finally confess to you. So, when you met him at your favorite spot, instead of a carefully planned speech about his feeling, one he knows he would have messed up anyways at the sight of your smile, he blurted out that he's engaged. He had never felt more pain, than as he watched your heart break, seeing the pain in your eyes. He only wishes that you were able to see how it hurt him too. And the two of you coming from a generation before phones existed made it hard to stay connected, so, in the end you lost sight of each other. Oh, how he wished he could have rebelled against his parents, he still wishes he did, but he always followed the rules his parents set, believing they only wanted the best for him, so how was he supposed to just stop? He is truly happy with his life, there is nothing he loves more than his daughters, and yet to this day, you have never left his heart. To this day, it wishes it were you with who he lived this life.

And it seems that his wishes were heard for once, as the doorbell rings. He is confused at first, the person at the door seems familiar to him, he just can't quite pin point it, at least not until the familiar stranger speaks-

"Long time no see, Mozus"

No matter how much you've changed over the years, the way you speak his name as you smile at him is something that remained the same, something that he could never forget. He invited you inside, the shock of seeing you so long painted clearly on his face. The two of you sit down at the coffee table, as he hands you your drink. He has many questions, and he can only assume you do too. It doesn't take long before you two are talking as openly as you did when you were younger, reminiscing about the older days, discussing what each of you did during your time apart; he tells much about his lovely daughters, talking about each of them as if they're a piece of art, before asking what you did during your time away. He noticed rather quickly that you spoke much quieter than when you were young, holding yourself back during stories instead of making them as big as can be, where he wouldn't have gotten a word in when you were young, he was now leading the conversation. But he couldn't say that he minded, it was only normal to change with age, and he's afraid his aged body wouldn't be able to handle the adventures attitude you had as a child; the change is welcomed with open arms, just as you welcomed everything that changed about him. The conversation lasts well into the night, it is already dark out when the two of you finally become tired. Being the gentleman that he is, and always was, he invites you to stay the night, perhaps even a few more if you have travelled from afar to meet him. As he goes to sleep, he feels a warmth he hasn't felt in years.

It was an early morning, when the sound of meows awoke you. It seems it didn't take long for Lucius to warm up to you either, as the tuxedo cat lets you pet him, albeit only for a few minutes, before elegantly walking of to eat breakfast. Deciding to follow suit, you get dressed and make your way to the kitchen. When you arrive, Trein is already making breakfast, wishing you a good morning, before returning his attention to the eggs. He is already dressed to a tee, you can only imagine how early he woke up. You decide to help him, carrying the finished food to the table, as you started to properly wake up. "Didn't you say you work at a college? don't you have to go to work soon?" you ask as you both sit down at the table. "Luckily, you visited me during the holidays, I have three more weeks before i need to return to work." He responded, a smile on his face. Very quickly the two of you made plans for these weeks, to reconnect.

And reconnect you did. Your plans very quickly turned into dates, as the two of you realize that neither of you ever got over your feelings. You finally do all, or rather all the things that you can do at your age, that you wanted to do as teenagers. Eventually, you even meet his daughters, who luckily seem to like you. They know their parents marriage was arranged, and seeing their father happy with you, makes them happy.

It may have taken many, many years of longing, but it seems that, in the end, fate still had a happy ending in mind for the two of you.

Very fun to write, very happy that i finally had the chance to try and write a proper fic!!

Feedback is welcomed, just be nice please :)

Hope you have a nice day/night!

[peachy-wolfhard]

Dating Leo II

a/n: I wanted to add more after I posted part one so here it is Bone Apple Teeth, I love leo sm so its LONG

Let me know if you would like to be on my tmnt taglist!

Warnings: swearing, grandchildren mention (splinter is gonna splinter), illness mention, insomnia, mentions of slapping leos bald head

Word count: 738 -woof

Insomnia gang

This turtle physically cannot sleep

When you don't spend the night he is CONSTANTLY texting you everything that comes to mind

“y/n…why is pizza a circle?” “idk lee can i come over :3” “yeth pls HURRY IM DYING HERE WITHOUT U”

Lying in his bed, cuddling, matching eyemasks ON, fan ON

Even with all of that, nothing works

The nights that the both of you are actually able to sleep he has a grasp on you

Holds you so close to him all the time, you guys are joined at the hip

Everyone besides Mikey and Splinter thinks you guys are gross

“You can't even say their names apart now it's ALWAYS Leo and y/n. You can't separate them they will DIE without each other”

“Calm down Mikey please you're scaring Shelldon”

Splinter is…well Splinter. He stays in your guys' relationship, with how dramatic you guys are he doesn't need his soaps

He loves to show you baby pictures of the boys esp the ones of Leo

((cough cough he definitely mentions grandchildren like the old man he is))

Bites all the time like anytime anywhere

Making breakfast peacefully listening to music- CHOMP

Getting ready for work- CHOMP

Dr. Delicate Touch has to intervene

Play fights with you in slow-motion

(slow motion voice) “yyy/nnn iiiimm goooinggg tooo kick your aaaasssss”

(also slow motion voice) “im gooonnnaaa kick yours firrrst”

HAND! HOLDING!

Initially, it started as a way to keep Leo from running off when exploring places, but then it turned into a regular thing

“My love, light of my life, future spouse eHEM!”

“What Leo”

“WHERE’S YOUR HAND I AM GOING TO DIE WITHOUT YOUR HAND IN MINE!! I ALREADY FEEL WEAK PLEASE I AM SUFFERING”

Absolute drama queen and don't get me started when he’s sick

Picture those old paintings of the sick children in bed, he’s that but dialed up to eleven

All he wants is cuddles and daytime television and don't you DARE come in between him and his Maury

Giving him medicine is surprisingly easy maybe it’s because he’s so out of it or maybe he’s just in love he’d let you do anything to him

But if you’re ever sick he does the exact same for you

If you fight medicine (just like me fr) he’s NOT afraid to use those ninja moves to get you to take your meds

Loves it when you read to him no matter what you are reading

Manga? Sign him up! Horror book? Let's get spooky! Sad book? I'll get the tissues! He just loves to hear your voice especially if you do different voices for the characters but not overly comedic voices, he’s here for the story!

Falls asleep listening to your voice with his head on your lap 99% of the time

Going to the Hidden City for date nights and getting up to absolute mischief

(having to then call Raph to come get you guys because you pissed someone off and just kicked their butt)

Speaking of the Hidden City! During their break in the Hidden City (when everyone gets arrested) you join Leo at the spa

After he gets kicked out he BEGS you to go to the creepy spa across the street with him

“Sorry sweetheart I too am in DIRE need of some relaxation plus it’s not often I’m in an exclusive club”

The moment he shows up with that gorgeous hair you’re suspicious

Texts you a selfie of his new hair with the creepy ass background

“Whatcha think? Even more handsome than normal? ;)” “go back to being bald i miss slapping ur bald head :(“

Anyway when he starts “sleepwalking” your immediate reaction is “Maybe it's the wig” but quickly forget all about it due to relaxation

“Um… yyyy/nnnn could you please help me out with one teeny tiny situation…? Please?”

Now you and Leo are on the case!

“Ooo lala finally some privacy ;)”

“Don't touch me until you’re bald AND we figure this out”

“Pwetty pwease? JUST ONE!”

“Fine, ONE kiss”

After the evil hair reveal and fighting with your boyfriend’s hair he's finally bald again

Leo explains the massage guy’s deal but it falls on deaf ears

“Hey, who’s that guy?” “He'sthe non-member we kicked out earlier!”

“I bet he and that human are the thieves. Call the cops”

After a quick stay in jail, you’re now peacefully back home

[the-good-bad-truth]

The Pregnancy announcement

I just want to start off by saying at the end of the day these people, this “lovely” couple are having a baby. But also, they choose to make their relationship our business, so I’m going to talk about it. If you disagree then whatever.  Scroll past this.

First I think it’s quite odd that she chose to announce it in that way with black goo and all that. Most pregnant women and celebrities would do something more cutesy, motherly vibes but it's Megan, so I guess you know. I know she had a miscarriage and all that, but I don’t get why she chose to use that caption. I’m not into spirituality like that but isn’t that like putting bad juju on your pregnancy by saying it’s the baby that committed “Su****e” last time. Idk. Her words not mine.

Also why are we having a baby with someone you don’t see marrying or you have no intentions of ever getting married, or being too scared to tell us the status of your relationship even tho for years you would give us all the private details down to how the table saw things and cutting holes in ur clothes to yk.  She does realize this means she will be stuck with this “demonic” creature for the rest of her life. If we also look back at their relationship, they have broken up at least 20 times in the almost 6 years they were together. Not exactly the most stable environment for a child but ok.  They also got engaged for like 8 months then the ring was never spotted again. They didn’t even confirm it until like a whole year later and she was very vague about it. Talking about how their relationship is not for public consumption but yet you get the public fed with headlines for years. And are we forgetting her whole temper tantrum where she used a SEX TRAFFICKING poster to get back at him and ALLOWED for one of his band members to be SLUT shamed for a WHOLE week before saying something and when she did it was all OUR fault. Ok. Even at the early stages of their relationship, like I’m talking only two months together, they were referring to each other as twin flames, tatts but yet praying to a tree, A TREE to take a storm away so they can spend a couple hours together before they would have to separate for like 2 weeks cuz they said if they didn’t, they would break up.

She has filled his head with lies and bullshited him throughout the whole relationship through public interviews, captions, and hate poems. Don't you remember Megan how you wrote poems insinuating that he forced you to wear a short skirt, had his hand around the back of your neck and is a narcissist not exactly father of your future children material. Right? I wouldn't even be surprised if this pregnancy was her idea, and she knew she could guilt trip him into having a baby. Is that not Coercion or? I don’t understand why she would do that unless her intention was to trap him because remember he is only like a year sober, he might be thinking of leaving his past, all of it.  She is an emotionally abusive person, but we all have to play DELULU otherwise we are not part of EST. Take a look a her and Brian’s relationship and how they would break, file for divorce and then she would end up pregnant. Maybe this is how she knows or thinks of keeping them.

If I’m being honest he’s never going to win a grammy. He’s just not and I fear that this baby is going to stop him from even trying to attempt to achieve that dream. That's why he got in a relationship, y'all do realize because she was the Transformers baddie that would give an ego boost and also help him promote his music. His thing, his purpose is to make music, to create art. It is where he flourishes the most and I would argue the happiest with the exception of Casie. And even then he would combine the two having her own stage with him and sharing songs with her. That is their thing. Casie is the muse; the reason he wants to achieve greatness is to prove to his daughter that she has an amazing and talented father. I have my suspicions that she wants to have a girl to maybe take some of that from Casie, but idk.

I think they will last maybe and I’m being generous for ¾ years, possibly. One because this baby that they will claim is made out of love will make or break them. He is either going to have to sacrifice going on tour and opportunities to stay and change diapers. Which I don't really see him trying to slow down at all, in fact I think it will just motivate him even more or cling on to whenever Megan will criticizes for his parenting styles. Do they even have similar parenting styles. The other option is he will distance himself from her to focus on his career like he wants to and choose to co-parent but that will piss her off. And I feel she will make up narratives of how he is a bad parent not directly but then again who knows. Did she not blast Brian for posting a picture of his own son. She can and will play the victim. Always. That the greatest role of her life to play woe is me, fame is a prison, the world is against me, misogyny and mean feminist, they don't understand my humor.

Also pay attention to how she names it. It might be something that is either rock, gothic, dark aesthetic. She wants an aesthetic baby so that these fan pages of hers can edit or whatever and say OMG Imagine saying your are MGK and THE Megan fox, WOW! The GeNeTiCs.

For Colson. Oh Colson. Good luck to you brother. You going need it. But if you are not too busy maybe you can release or at least try to work on the Rap album you promised us for over a year now.

 Xoxo the good bad truth

[ranticore]

happy anniversary STBH!! i bought both books while on a week break and read them both in two days voraciously despite my phone failing to decipher the epub files (squinting at a 200x zoomed pdf is a painful way to read but it was so worth it). i am periodically rotating the characters round my mind like the hypothetical apple number 1. Cain especially has been placed in my little mental cabinet of curiosity that i drop by during quiet hours to think about. love that man. number one cain fan. chewing him like an interesting stick. i love every other character as well though theyre all so fascinating and v human

anyway all this ramble to say i love your works and im patiently waiting for the moth release. ur prose is so lovely and i love love love the way you interpret folklore and mythology and your art

question for the stbh gang: what actually are their daemons? i know felix has estibarith the swan but im so curious as to the rest...

omg noo i'm so sorry the epub didn't work! i know you already suffered through it but for anyone else with this issue, i have a recommendation for google books app (if using android) but even if that doesn't work, you can always contact me and we can make something more readable (like a pdf with big font or something) that fits

i'm so happy that cain resonates with people, that old man is a favourite of mine even if i did forget to change his name from the original placeholder (whoops). he's a lil fucked up now but his story is far from over

as for tha daemons..

Islin: i narrowed it down to two potentials?? That i kind of bounce between. I tend to lean more towards a polled bull than anything else - a same-sex daemon which would be the only one in the cast i think, which i tried to parallel in pern story with him being the only one who doesn't match the canon rules for rider sexuality & dragon colour. but regardless the daemon is called Tarannach and the overall symbolism is a massive powerful dominant animal who is nonetheless "de-fanged" in some way (polled cattle naturally lack horns!) and appears more peaceful as a result. Tarannach is wilful and domineering, disagrees with Islin frequently (before Islin has his spine-growing moments), and unapologetically takes up space. would also be a massive inconvenience in day to day life but that's kind of the point. Before settling as a bull, Tarannach went through phases of wanting to be smaller and smaller.

Bowman has a dog daemon. It just has to be that way, there's no getting around it. I joked around that she would be a poodle but actually I would lean more towards a collie instead, a herding type. Something that looks rough and ready but is actually surprisingly high maintenance. Her name is Nell/Nellie. Her personality is irreverent, never takes anything seriously. She turns into a feral animal during the full moon.

We know Estibariz is a swan but some more about her - she wanted to be a lioness, something big and fierce, and Félix insisted that she would probably end up a serpent or a fox, something with connotations of being a sneaky liar, and he felt that when she did settle, it would be an externalisation of some inner ugliness he never wanted anyone else to see. when she did settle she enjoyed a big I Told You So. When he was taken by Puck and spat out again, she returned as a form-shifting daemon again, and had gained the ability to separate from him and travel long distances. She never shapeshifted willingly though. The first person to touch Estibariz aside from Félix was Bowman. The second person was Helena.

Clarion is the only one whose daemon was actually, for real, a horse. His name was Drey and he was a dapple grey draft breed.

Senca is obviously a witch so also had a daemon who could travel far from her. He was a bird, I thought maybe a nightjar or collared dove. Never got that far in the au so didn't pick a name. We'll just call him Namiliyath

Léa's was a thorny devil

Jean's is a ferret and her name is Missy. It looks like it could potentially be an ermine, a symbol of nobility, but no. It's a common hunting animal, white with black eyes.

Erica's is a magpie

Pascal does not have a daemon. There's something there that looks very swanlike, but it speaks with his voice. In a human au, it's a golden eagle.

I don't think I made anything for other characters, again I never got that far writing it

[ax-y10]

hii!!

i saw ur wilbur x reader fic of reader being obsessed with his fluffy hair and i adored it!!! it was so cute !!

as a curly haired gal, it got me thinking of fem!reader who has curly hair helping will style his curls and teaching him how to do it

thank you!! :]

Fluffy Pt.2

In which- you love his curls, and you may have taught him a new skill

A/n: thx for your request, I love your writing. I'm genuinely trying so fucking hard to get stuff out so I can clear my drafts.

Headcanon info: I actually don't know but it's mainly fluff, pet names, swearing, and Wilbur being a little shit

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist:

Having someone with the same hair type as you was definitely a plus in the relationship.

Being able to relate to each and every hair problem, like it not curling right, or it becoming really frizzy etc.

So when you met Wilbur, your curly-haired boyfriend, The hair twirling he would do would be so calming, each and every finger lacing through your hair effortlessly.

The same goes for you, his short, fluffy and curly hair so soothing to you and your fingers, being able to separate each curl, making it poofier.

One day, you proposed the idea of teaching him how to curl his hair and style it, you having curly hair and knowing how to help, and he immediately agreed.

Now, if you have long hair, you would have to learn how to style short hair, your long hair techniques not working.

But of you had shorter hair, it would be so much easier to help him, the occasional challenge here and there but overall super easy to help.

The showers together washing each others hair and the late nights, him sat on the bathroom counter, you applying random things in his hair to experiment

"Darling? What the fuck is Aloe Vera? Don't tell me you're putting this in my hair... FUCK OFF NO!" He'd protest. "But it'll help the curls" "Okay"

He'd be so happy and bubbly the next day because his hair was bouncy

And Ash would text you and say "What the fuck happened to Wil?"

And your text back? "I made his hair bouncy"

This golden retriever motherfucker would genuinely be like "OMG ASH MY HAIR'S BOUNCY! LOOK!" and he'd make a point by pulling on a strand of hair and it bouncing back.

(I actually don't know what else to say so here's a small drabble)

You proposed the idea of styling his curls while sitting on the couch watching a movie. Well, in reality, you were currently in a staring contest with him, him starting it by staring at you hair, obsessing over your curls. You'd lost, of course, so he got to separate your curls and make your hair poofy, much to your dismay, but at least he was happy. "Wil, I should style your curls like mine. You seem to love my hair, so you can obsess over yours instead of fucking up my hair," You spoke, half jokingly, him probably being scared of all the weird stuff you were going to put in his hair, but he immediately agreed. "YES! Lets go, come one" And you were being dragged to the bathroom, and sat on the bench so you could reach his head. "Now sweet, you are going to have to stay still for me while I wet your hair," and this motherfucker shook his hair. "Hold the fuck up, I can't put this stuff in your hair until you stop dancing around like a maniac and stay in front of me, and I especially can't dry your hair," you scolded while your boyfriend bounced around the bathroom, already obsessing over his wet curls. Eventually, you got his hair all prepped for the morning, despite his protests against many products. You wrapped it in a small towel and went to bed, knowing he's going to wake up on the floor, towel across the room, and the blankets stolen from his moving around. Surprisingly, you woke up to him making you breakfast with his curls perfectly intact.

[myfandomrealitea]

saw ur post about going incognito into spaces and stuff and i wanted to add my own thoughts about my experience of basically being stuck in places where proshippers r hated (not against wut ur saying! i definitely agree that theres no benefits and honestly its not that fun)

the fandom that im currently in is.. very toxic. someone got harassed to the point of having to delete their account bc they "supported" a proshipper (it was literally just them saying that u shouldnt harass this person just bc theyre proship-). a lot of my friends were very supportive of this person and agreed that ppl shouldnt be harassed over shit like that and many of them seem to have similar viewpoints as me (anti harassment and all that) but prefer to stay away from that stuff

the fandom is basically ran by antis. theres a small corner that some ppl have made where they talk about proship stuff freely (love those ppl so much theyre genuinely so nice) but overall its. not the best place to be if ur proship. which is interesting to me bc theres actually a shocking amount of proshippers that just... dont say anything. on my side blog ive had multiple ppl interact that i thought were anti (or at least just. not proship in some way) but would literally go and like all my posts about incest ships of the characters.

and sometimes i think about it and how theres actually a bunch of proshippers but we're so heavily harassed and silenced that we just- dont say anything. but the fandom is small and we cant exactly separate ourselves from it if we really like the show. and i feel especially bad for some of the bigger blogs that ppl love and adore bc i know wut would happen if somehow ppl found out and made some big post or wutever.

i dont pretend to be antiship but i dont outright say im proship unless i really trust that person

im currently trying to make my own lil space with some friends so at least if anything goes wrong i at least have a few ppl but its a bit scary to think about honestly-

Although it can be full of snot-nosed superiority complexes, I do recommend using the AO3 Subreddit in order to find likeminded people for your fandom. The very vast majority of the AO3 Subreddit is proship or at least proship neutral. Antis are generally eviscerated on sight whenever they try to poke their nose into it.

If you have any other fandoms that you are active in or have friends within, there's also no harm in introducing them to your small fandom.

From what I understand the Marvel fandom did kind of the same thing you're describing with the Starker shippers, but they flourished and supported each other anyway.

I know its easy for me to simply say 'do it anyway' as someone who generally could not give a fuck about anyone's opinion of me, but honestly. Do it anyway. Form your little collective. Support each other. Learn how to write and draw and make GIFs so you feed your own portion of the fandom. You physically do not need those people, it just unfortunately takes a bit of effort and means potentially a bit less content until you start really generating your own.

Fandom spaces do not start out from nothing. Promote the shit out of your fandom. Draw people in. Comb through the proship tags and send asks to blogs like mine asking other proshippers to check out the source material.

People in small fandoms are easy to bully because you're so enclosed into this circle of the exact same people. They happen to be the majority in the room and they're weaponising it.

Force them into a bigger room.

[wolfofcelestia]

Idk if u have seen this one yet but i need to hear ur thoughts :D

I hit the ask button to early but i thought of u when i saw that post on twitter since it'sabout zayne! 😭 🤭

Thanks for thinking of me!! And giving me a reason to yap lol 😭

Right off the bat, I need to say that I think I'm an outlier in the fandom because I do not believe Astra exists in any world except Foreseer's world so I am going to disagree with a lot of things in here lmao

Warnings: Long post, me being kind of a bitch when I defend my man asdflakdfj

Don't take any of this seriously because this is just one fan theory vs another fan theory but. My theories are better because I don't discredit Zayne's feelings to fit my narrative

I don't believe it being our "first" lives or not really makes a difference because... if you look at time and space and all that, time is irrelevant. It's a loop that feeds in on itself. One life could be considered a first or a last life. History will repeat itself again and again, so our Zayne and our MC are just one drop in a whole ocean of time and space

The LADS music video included the mobius strip prominently and what it symbolizes seems to align with this train of thought

Regardless, to say that Zayne's feelings for MC are only because of their past lives discredits why he fell in love with her in the first place. This seems to be a reoccurring thing with this person's Zayne theories - they discredit Zayne's feelings.

He is his own person with his own feelings, not just a plot vessel for other versions of himself.

I believe Zayne was born a normal human being. Whether he stays that way is yet to be seen. MC may have something special about her that prompted the scientists to experiment on her, or she, as an orphan, may have just been an easy target. But again, I don't believe this has anything to do with Astra.

Like I said, I don't believe Astra exists in every world. But let's step back a bit

Foreseer isn't allowed to love because he has a duty to carry out as Astra's mouthpiece. He can't get distracted from his duties by falling in love. Astra sees Foreseer getting distracted as him deliberately going against him. Thus, he's punished.

But why would Zayne falling in love in any other world receive punishment? Even if Astra does exist, if Doctor Zayne falls in love, what betrayal has he committed for him to receive divine punishment? It does not make any sense

Take Master of Fate. He IS a god. Him loving MC is akin to him loving something he must destroy for the good of the world, but it is not forbidden. He would not be punished for loving her. The worst that could happen would be MC being killed by the other gods, so (another theory of mine that contradicts this person's theory), him sealing her away to hide her in their own private pocket dimension was the only way he could both keep her safe and love her

Take Dawnbreaker. He loves MC uncontrollably, but where is his punishment? She was separated from him from the beginning. This is not an active divine punishment

Astra does not exist in every world, nor would he punish any and every Zayne for being in love if Astra is not directly slighted

The first actual facts in this list of "Facts" lmao

Clarification though: Zayne cannot connect to Dawnbreaker at will, nor vice versa. Zayne is not even sure who he is

If Dawnbreaker could connected to Zayne whenever he could, he'd be a lot less depressed, but as of this point in the story, all he can do is hope that he dreams of her whenever he falls asleep

This person's wording is a bit hard to understand, but if they mean that Dawnbreaker and Zayne exist in alternate universes like two sides of the same coin, at the same time, then I agree with that, especially since Dawnbreaker isn't considered a myth.

I really don't understand why people keep pulling Astra in here. Zayne, as in Doctor Zayne, doesn't want MC to be near him because his evol can go berserk when he can't control it. This is due to him overworking himself

But Zayne loves MC and she is the only cure to calm his evol and convince him to take breaks from work when he otherwise wouldn't, further calming him down and keeping his evol under control

Things don't always have to be super cryptic. Sometimes a doctor just wants to keep the person he loves safe, regardless of his own feelings

I don't remember anything in the story that mentions anything about that last sentence. But this world does seem to revolve around protocores, what they can do to people, and what they can do to the world (see: that big hole in the sky)

I have not read or seen this article? This section seems to just be taking the Jungian idea of the collective unconscious and throwing "energy" into the mix. This is a whole nothing burger to me tbh. I don't know what they're trying to say here. MC and Zayne are going to change the world?

Or Zayne and MC just love each other in their current lifetimes. In the myths, they never mention either of them feeling familiar with each other

Scanning through the rest of this section gives me nothing else.

Is it that hard to believe that Zayne and MC would fall in love with each other despite not knowing, or even having, a past with each other? Sure, they would fall in love in every lifetime, but it's not because of that repetition that they fall in love. Down to their cores, they just fit together.

An interesting thought, something I don't agree as canon but it's a nice idea.

I agree with this section up until this point. Which is like 2 sentences into the theory lmao

If I'm understanding this person correctly, their theory is that MC is the personification of Life, and Zayne is the personification of Time, like gods. Yeah, it's an interesting thought, but I don't see it as canon

There are many allusions in this story to various mythologies (notably Greek mythologies) so LADS's story reflecting that isn't that wild of an idea. But until we get confirmation of any of this, I just see this as fanfic

I agree that the aether cores are special, but the aether cores belonging to MC? That's pretty farfetched to me

And, as I've said, the way I read Master of Fate's ending is completely different to how this person read it, so I just stopped reading this section here.

Is it?? So hard?? To believe that Doctor Zayne loves MC because?? He just?? Loves her??? He loves her for who she is?? And not because she overcame these wild stories in her past lives??

I don't agree with the first part but I can see Dawnbreaker and Zayne collaborating

One of my theories I've written about before was that Dawnbreaker may be the key to saving MC, in every world. Because he doesn't have an MC of his own, his desperation to reach her would lead him to finding ways to transverse time and space with the intention of helping her. He may not be able to control where he lands up, so wherever he lands, he looks for MC and helps every version of her until he can reach the girl he loves

Oh boy, we're going off the rails here. Okay...

If Zayne had an aether core, he would know eventually because through his medical training, there would be no doubt that he, his classmates, or his professors would've noticed. Maybe they practiced using the medical monitoring machines on each other or maybe Zayne got a test result one day that told him he had a core in him that was doing some crazy things to his insides, but I don't believe that someone could go their whole lives without knowing they had a core in them. He is just another human with an evol, so I agree with this...one sentence.

The aether core is something we have to sacrifice? I don't think so. It was put into us against our will. Who exactly are we sacrificing it to? If anything, it was sacrificed to US. Regardless of all that sacrificing thing, the aether core is not a singular item anyway. It's a class of powerful cores. If protocore = prototype, then the aether core would be the finished product

If Zayne is Astra, why is Astra just using himself as a pin cushion when Foreseer catches feelings? If Astra loves MC, why would this warrant punishment? Zayne would want Foreseer to treat her well and give her the love she needs, and in turn, he would want to see Foreseer be loved in return

If Astra is the collective consciousness of all Zaynes, that raises even more questions as to why he's punishing Foreseer for catching feelings

This whole idea of Astra = Zayne makes absolutely no sense to me tbh

The idea of a higher being reaching into every possible reality is something I'm not opposed to but I still don't believe that Astra exists in any world besides Foreseer's. Outside of his myth, there's been no mention of Astra, so until we get confirmation of that, I just don't believe that EVERY ZAYNE IS FORBIDDEN TO FALL IN LOVE

Because again... if Astra = Zayne, why the fuck would he punish himself and keep both him and MC from being loved?

So lmao... yeah I'm sorry for dunking all over this, but a lot of this just does not make any sense to me. There were mentions of an article and things being claimed as "fact" that I've never heard of so if you have any proof of this, feel free to send it my way

But I mean. If someone has to discredit an entire main character just to claim something as "fact" and build an entirely new story around him, I just can't agree with it

Anyway, here's a Zayne lmao