#and now they can pick you up like you used to them

[darksturnz]

── ⋮ ⌗ “FUCKIN’ TAKE IT. . .” ⟢ BF.ᐟMATT ᵎᵎ

CONTENTS: smut heavy-plot ・unprotected p n v・part two to THIS ・ this was requested!

His words replay in your mind, looping, sinking deep.

M’gonna make you the prettiest momma ever, ‘kay?

It’s filthy. It’s possessive. It’s exactly what you didn’t know you needed to hear.

A quiet whimper slips past your lips before you can stop it. You try to suppress it, biting down on the inside of your cheek, but Matt catches it—of course he does. His smirk is slow, knowing, dripping with amusement as he dips his head to press a kiss just below your ear.

“Didn’t answer me, sweetheart.” His voice is low, teasing, but there’s an edge to it now, something rougher, something hungry. His fingers press into your thighs, urging you forward, making you grind against him just a little harder. “Y’gotta tell me if that’s what you want.”

Your breath stutters. “Matt—”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t ease up, doesn’t let you shy away from the heat between you. His lips ghost over your jaw, down to the sensitive spot beneath it, where he knows you always melt for him. “Use your words, baby.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, humiliated by how quickly you unraveled, by how easily he turned your ache into something entirely different. But Matt doesn’t let you drift too far into your own head—he never does. His hands are patient, coaxing, always knowing exactly what you need before you even realize it yourself.

One of them slides up your back, threading into your hair as he tilts your head, forcing you to look at him. His gaze is heavy, burning into you, his pupils wide, dark, consuming.

“C’mon, sweet girl,” he murmurs, lips barely brushing against yours, teasing but not giving. “can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me.”

Your body betrays you before your mouth can. Your hips shift instinctively, chasing friction, chasing him. His hold tightens in response, and the sharp inhale he takes tells you everything you need to know—he’s feeling it, too.

You swallow hard, embarrassment burning beneath the want. “I just—” Your voice is unsteady, barely a whisper. “I just need you.”

Matt hums in approval, his fingers flexing, pulling you flush against him. “Yeah?” His lips finally, finally press against yours, a slow, deep kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. “let me take care of you.”

His hands move with purpose, trailing lower, dipping beneath the hem of his shirt that swallows your frame, slipping past the last barrier between you.

His fingers push your panties to the side, barely brushing over your soaked cunt before pressing in deep, curling just right, sending a sharp pulse of pleasure straight through your core. His other hand grips your thigh, holding you still as he works you open, taking his time, watching the way you fall apart in his lap.

“Already so fuckin’ wet,” he murmurs, his voice thick with amusement. “Barely touched you.”

You whimper, your hips rolling against his hand, desperate for more. But before you can even reach for him, before you can beg, he groans low, frustrated.

His cock is straining against his sweats, the fabric damp where he’s leaking against it, and he exhales sharply before yanking them down just enough to free himself. The thick head of him presses against your entrance, rubbing against your clit for a moment before he lines up and sinks inside in one slow, unrelenting thrust.

The stretch has you gasping, nails digging into his shoulders, but he doesn’t give you a moment to process it before—

“Matt! Where the fuck are you kid?”

His teammate’s voice from the headset he threw onto the desk startles you, breaking through the haze.

Your breath catches, your body tensing, but Matt barely reacts. He exhales through his nose, visibly annoyed, then reaches over, picking up the headset. His other hand remains firm on your waist, keeping you completely still with his cock buried deep inside you.

He un-mutes.

“Right here,” he says, completely level, voice smooth, steady, like he’s not currently splitting you open. “What’re you yellin’ for, told you my girl was sleeping”

Your nails dig deeper into his skin, your hips shifting instinctively, desperate for movement, for relief, but he doesn’t budge.

You whimper softly, barely able to think past the need clawing through you, but Matt—cruel, infuriatingly hot Matt—just picks up his controller and returns to his game.

You try again, grinding against him, but all it earns you is a sharp squeeze to your thigh—a silent warning.

His mic mutes.

“What?” His voice is lazy, rough, thick with something darker. “You wanted it, didn’t you? So fuckin’ take it.”

Your breath stutters.

You have no choice—he’s not going to move, not going to help you.

So you do as you’re told.

You start slow, rolling your hips, testing, adjusting to the thick stretch of him. The burn in your thighs is immediate, but it’s nothing compared to the ache between your legs, the desperate need for friction, for more.

You whimper, pressing closer, your arms wrapped around his shoulders. “Matt,” you plead, voice shaking. “Please—please move—”

His mic unmutes.

“Matt, cover me dipshit—fuck—”

“That’s on you dude, I’m hitting my shots” he mutters, completely indifferent, but his fingers flex on your hips, betraying his composure.

It’s unbearable—the slow build of pleasure, the strain in your legs, the torture of knowing he could so easily take control but won’t.

Eventually, your body gives out.

Your thighs tremble violently, burning with exertion, and you falter, collapsing against him with a frustrated whimper.

His mic mutes.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” His voice is soft now, teasing, taunting.

You shake your head, fingers clutching at his shirt. “Can’t,” you whisper. “Need you—please.”

His hand slides up your back, pressing you close, his lips ghosting over your ear.

“Yeah?” His breath is warm, thick with amusement. “You given up already?”

You nod frantically, too far gone for embarrassment. “Please, Matt—need you so bad.”

Matt groans, the sound low and wrecked, and that’s all it takes—his own patience snaps.

His hand flies to his headset, tearing it off. “Nate—I’m getting off.”

“What? We’re in the middle of—”

Matt doesn’t even wait for a full response before exiting the game entirely.

The screen goes dark for a moment before his PC background illuminates the room—a picture of you curled against his chest, tangled in his sheets, the soft glow casting light across his sharp features.

And then he moves.

The first thrust is brutal, knocking the breath from your lungs, and then he’s pounding into you, gripping your waist, pulling you down to meet each deep, punishing stroke.

“This what you need?” he growls against your ear, voice rough, breath ragged. 

You nod frantically, moaning his name, nails dragging down his back.

His grip on your waist is tight, almost bruising, holding you in place as he drives into you. The wet, obscene sounds of it fill the dimly lit room, mixing with the soft whimpers spilling from your lips, with the ragged, uneven breaths against your ear.

He doesn’t ease up, doesn’t slow down—just takes you, hips snapping up into yours with a brutal rhythm, pulling you down every time you start to lift yourself off of him, making sure you feel every single inch.

You sob against his shoulder, overwhelmed, body shaking, thighs trembling from the sheer force of it. Your hands fist the fabric of his shirt, clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you tethered to reality.

And maybe he is.

“You feel that?” His voice is a low growl against your ear, rough, breath ragged, laced with something dark, something possessive. “Gonna let me put my baby in you?”

You nod frantically, barely able to form words, your breath coming in shallow, desperate gasps. Your nails drag down his back, digging into the hard muscle beneath his shirt, and he groans, sharp and guttural, his pace stuttering for just a second before he recovers.

“Fuck—” His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you down harder, making you take him deeper. “Wish I knew—knew you wanted this sooner.”

You whimper, pressing your forehead against his, nodding weakly. “Wanna have your baby,” you breathe, barely coherent, voice small and wrecked. “Want you, Matt—please.”

His jaw clenches, his breath hitching slightly. His hips slow for a fraction of a second, like he’s processing it—your desperation, your need for him—before he lets out a sharp exhale and picks up the pace again, fucking into you with a newfound urgency.

And at this point, you don’t even care how loud you are, how utterly wrecked you sound. You just hold onto him, sobbing his name, letting him take exactly what he wants—letting him give you exactly what you need.

Matt’s grip tightens, his fingers digging into your hips with a bruising force, guiding you, controlling every desperate shift of your body. The force of his thrusts sends you bouncing in his lap, each deep stroke shoving you further into the mattress of his chair, forcing you to take him exactly how he wants.

Your legs are trembling, thighs burning from the earlier effort, but it doesn’t matter—not when he’s finally giving you what you begged for, not when every sharp snap of his hips has you spiraling closer to the edge.

“Shiiiittt,” he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, teeth scraping against your skin. “So fuckin’ tight—gripping me—”

You whimper in response, barely able to hold yourself up anymore. Your arms loop around his neck, fingers tangling into the soft hair at the nape of his neck, nails scratching lightly against his scalp as you cling to him.

Matt grunts, a sharp exhale against your skin, before he shifts slightly, planting his feet firmly against the floor.

Then he really starts to fuck you.

The rhythm turns relentless, deep and rough, his hips lifting off the chair to meet every downward roll of yours. The chair creaks beneath you, the obscene slap of skin-on-skin filling the space between your ragged breaths, between the filthy, low groans Matt presses into your throat.

“You takin’ it, sweet girl?” His voice is rough, nearly wrecked, but still teasing, still cruel. “This what you were cryin’ for?”

Your only response is a choked sob, your head falling back, eyes squeezing shut as heat builds low in your stomach, tightening, coiling, ready to snap.

Matt’s mouth is on you immediately—lips dragging down the column of your throat, teeth grazing over sensitive skin before he bites, sucking a mark into the dip of your shoulder, his own way of branding you, of making sure you feel him even after this.

The pressure is unbearable now, your body trembling, overstimulated and desperate, but you still want more.

“Matt,” you gasp, voice barely a whisper. “Close—gonna—”

He exhales sharply, his grip on you turning brutal. His hands move down, sliding to the backs of your thighs, spreading you open even more as he pounds into you, pushing you right to the edge, forcing you into it.

“Then come for me,” he mutters against your skin, his voice pure sin, pure need. “C’mon, baby—let me feel it.”

Your body locks up, the pressure finally snapping, pleasure crashing over you in waves so intense it nearly knocks you unconscious. You sob against his shoulder, every muscle in your body going taut as you clench around him, shaking, unraveling completely.

Matt curses beneath his breath, the sensation sending him straight into his own undoing. His thrusts turn frantic, messy, his breath hot against your skin.

Then you clarify it—

“Inside—please, Matt—inside,” you gasp, barely coherent, but completely, utterly serious.

His entire body tenses. He didn’t really think you’d actually let him, but he wasn’t complaining either.

His jaw clenches, his grip on you tightening to the point of pain, and then he slams deep one final time, burying himself inside you completely, holding you still as he fills you, groaning deep in his chest.

The only sound left is your heavy, uneven breaths, the soft hum of his PC still glowing behind him, the slight creak of the chair as he slumps forward, wrapping his arms around you.

His lips find your temple, soft, warm, pressing against your damp skin as he exhales, still catching his breath.

His voice is lower now, hoarse, rough, but serious.

“Y’know I mean it, right?” he murmurs against your skin. “Not just sayin’ shit, I will give you all the babies you want, sweetheart.”

authors note: spectacular gimme 14 of ‘em!

TAG LIST: @jetaimevous @sturnsblunt @riasturns @ifwdominicfike @chrissturns-wife

@pip4444chris @ribread03 @ariestrxsh @angelic-sturniolos111

@pvssychicken @mattslolita @stvrnzcherries @dottieboo

@lovergirl4gracieabrams @bluestriips @sturniolo-fann @chrisslut04 @owensbabygirl @sturnslutz @sturniqlo @sofieeeeex @jadasmp4 @ncm9696 @courta13 @vanteguccir @whore4mattsturniolo

[lilianne-tarot]

PICK A CARD: Your Future Spouse’s First Impression of You? ✮⋆˙

I. II. III.

Hey there! Welcome to my first pick-a-card reading on this blog page—I hope you all enjoy it! If I make any mistakes, please bear with me. Comment down what you felt about the reading and if it resonated with you and show some love, Your support means everything to me!<3

How to Pick Your Pile: Take a deep breath, clear your mind, and look at the images below. Which one pulls you in the most? Trust your gut! Once you choose the image, The number below your chosen image is your pile. If more than one catches your eye, that just means there’s extra tea for you—go ahead and read both!

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

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⊹₊⟡Pile I

First Things First: The Vibes Are Mysterious AF. Your future spouse’s first impression of you-Intriguing. Confusing. Obsessive. You are not someone they can just glance at and move on. this spread is screaming mystery, but not in a “cold and distant” way—it’s more like "Who ARE they? Why do I want to know everything about them?" There’s something about you that feels just out of reach, like you’re showing them a version of yourself, but they can sense there’s way more underneath. And that? That’s addictive. It’s the kind where they need to figure you out. They want to know what makes you tick, what you’re thinking when you glance away mid-conversation, and what you’re dreaming about at night. And it’s not in a shallow, superficial way—this person is genuinely captivated. But here’s where it gets interesting— because while The Moon makes them curious about you, the Eight of Pentacles makes them respect you. They see someone who’s dedicated, who works their ass off at whatever they care about. Whether it’s your career, hobbies, or just the way you present yourself—you give off this “I put in the effort” type of energy. Like, they can tell you’re serious about your stuff and that immediately makes you stand out. That alone makes them take you seriously. Okay, But Here’s the Gag—They Lowkey Feel a Bit…Uncertain? Now, listen—The Moon is also about illusions and uncertainty, so while they are intrigued, they might feel like they don’t fully “get” you at first. And that? That’s messing with them. They’re probably used to reading people easily, but you? You’re hard to pin down, and they love it…but also hate it?? It’s like, are they flirting with me or just being nice? Are they interested, or am I making this up? The Two of Wands here tells me that they immediately start thinking about possibilities with you—but they hesitate. Not because they’re uninterested, but because they’re trying to figure out where they stand. They respect you and your dedication, seeing you as someone with substance. They feel pulled toward you but also slightly intimidated or uncertain because you’re not easy to read (Love that for you😂). And darling, let’s be real—when someone is this intrigued by you from the jump, That’s a recipe for obsession. You might notice them observing you before making a move, trying to decode you.

This pile has the most unpredictable energy among the three. Your future spouse is unsure where they stand at first but feels a pull towards you. LOL, they might initially think “Whoa, Do they even notice me?” They might even romanticize you in their mind before truly knowing you (CUTE ngl) because your energy leaves so much to the imagination.

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

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⊹₊⟡Pile II

Ooooh, okay, let’s get into it. Babe, your future spouse’s first impression of you is giving emotional enigma meets graceful chaos, and I’m obsessed with how this energy is playing out. The moment they lay eyes on you, there’s an instant curiosity. You come across as graceful, emotionally intelligent, and balanced, but here’s the kicker—they know there’s more going on beneath the surface. Like, they can tell that you keep your cool externally, but they sense this quiet storm of emotions underneath. It’s intriguing to them because it’s like, "damn, how do they juggle everything?" when you meet them, or they just get the sense that you’ve got a lot going on but still show up with poise. It’s giving “this person could be drowning in responsibilities but would still remember to send their bestie a ‘drink water,’ text.” 😭There’s this duality to you that catches their attention. You seem emotionally available but also like you’re carrying something—like you’re transitioning into a new chapter, leaving something behind and they feel that energy before you even say a word. They immediately respect you but they also feel this lowkey urge to protect you, Because on one hand, you’re exuding this soft, nurturing energy but on the other hand, they can tell you’re used to handling your own business and might not even need them like that. And WHEW—does that intimidate them a little? Yes. yall pile 2 give me the energy of a particular line I heard on TikTok, which was something like "lead me when I want to be lead"😂So when they meet you, your future spouse immediately clocks that you’re in transition—maybe you’ve recently moved, changed jobs, ended a relationship, or you’re just shifting into a new phase in life. But here’s the real tea—they don’t just find you attractive, they find you mentally stimulating. Like, you’re not just another pretty face; you make them think. Your vibe is that of someone who has been through some shit but has learned and grown from it, and they immediately wonder, What’s their story? What shaped them into this person? And suddenly, they’re invested. “Holy shit, I need to know more.” You make them think—they don’t just want to know you, they want to understand you.

SO OVERALL This pile is soothing and warm, but also very self-aware and mature. Your future spouse feels safe and understood with you, like you’re someone they could see themselves building a peaceful life with. This is wayyyyyyy less confusion here compared to Deck 1; they pretty much immediately know you’re a rare find.

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

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⊹₊⟡Pile III

Your future spouse’s first impression of you? WHEW, they’re looking at you like you’re a whole standard—not just “crush-worthy,” but someone they gotta step their game up for. Their First Thought? “Damn, they’re sharp.” Like, no joke, the moment they meet you, they immediately pick up on your sharp mind and no-BS attitude. You give off this queen-level aura that’s like, “I see through people. Don’t play games with me". 💅. love it—but also have no idea how to approach you at first because you don’t seem like the type who’s easily impressed. Your whole energy screams “I’ve got my shit together.” And babe, they feel that. They’re looking at you like, “Okay, so this person is intelligent, confident, and carries themselves like they own the room—how do I not embarrass myself in front of them?” But it’s not just about confidence—you also have this elegance about you. You’re not loud or flashy; you’re just refined, polished, and unbothered in a way that makes people want to impress you. LOL also one thing, you make them feel like, "“Are they always this serious? Or do they have a goofy side?” You walk in, and it’s giving the main character energy without even trying. Here’s where it gets really interesting. Because at first, they see you as this composed, independent person who doesn’t need anybody. But then, there’s this subtle warmth about you that catches them off guard. I can feel that you’re someone who values fairness, generosity, and kindness—but only for the right people. You’re not out here wasting time. You know your worth, but when you do let people in? You’re the type to genuinely care, support, and uplift those around you. And that contrast? Whew. It messes them up in the best way. It’s like, “Wait… they’re not just powerful and intimidating… they’re actually thoughtful and kind, too? What kind of dream person did I just meet???” Your future spouse is immediately caught up in their head about you. Their first impression of you isn’t just “oh, they’re cute.” It’s deep admiration mixed with a little bit of panic.

Honestly, This is the type of first impression that lingers. They’re not just walking away thinking “Wow, that was a cool person.” No, no. They’re going home, replaying the conversation, trying to figure out how to impress you next time, and probably texting their best friend like, “I think I just met the most unreal person ever.”

For personal paid tarot reading click here!

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[okwonyo]

日语─── BEST PART ❜

RIPIRDENRE ੭୧ 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾.

husband!enhypen & wife!reader 8OO non-idol au fluff established relationship 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏｡ mention of kissing

지아 ⠀⦂⠀credit to my amazing girlfriend kimibae for the idea ><

✶ rbs&feedbacks！ DAILY ˊᯅˋ archive

HEESEUNG it happens when he is talking to his colleagues— his phone rings inside of his pocket and, as if it was a national instinct, he takes it immediately. he doesn’t hesitate much before accepting the call when your name appears, leaving his colleagues hanging. “yes, baby?” he answers, in the softest tone anyone has witnessed him use before. it’s something he only does with you, picking up the phone no matter what. no matter where he is or what he is doing, if you call, you can be sure that he will always answer. his abrupt disappearance makes the people he was talking to a tad bit confused. they ask him who he was talking to as soon as he comes back. “who?” he smiles. “i was talking to my wife.”

JAY “what are you doing here, princess?” he smiles gently, resting his back on his chair’s backseat— getting comfortable as soon as he sees you. with a happy expression on your face, you walk toward your husband. you hold the lunchbox in your hands in a way that makes his heart swell, with such love and care that he might melt. “you forget your lunch at home, so i bought it to you.” he lets you settle yourself on his laps as you talk, “am i bothering you?” and he can’t tell you that he left his lunchbox on purpose, just to see you. “no, i love your visits.” so, it’s never really confirmed or said out loud (until a work party), but the way he looks at you, the shining ring on his finger says it all.

JAKE there isn’t a day where he stays quiet— he is always bringing your name up somehow. in every conversation he has, no matter how brief they can be, you will always get mentioned at some point of it. therefore, he is the first to find it a bit surprising when people find out that is married to you, several months after the wedding happened. people ask him with wide eyes about what he means by ‘my wife’ and he looks at them with the exact same expression. “well, i am married?” he answers, as if it was obvious. to his defense, he really thought it was. to his words, he adds the action of showing off his ring when he speak again, “i have a wife, i talk about her all the time. do you even listen to me?”

SUNGHOON doesn’t talk about you much. although, you are on his mind from the moment he wakes up to when he closes his eyes at night— he likes to protect his privacy at all costs. however, when he gets married, he assumes that everyone already knows about it. the ring on his finger accompanied by your picture on his desk makes it quite obvious (he even catches himself staring at either of them quite often). he discovers that it’s not the case at all when he tells his colleagues about how he has to leave early because he has a date. he’s bewildered when someone asks him with whom, he thinks they are joking at first, but it doesn’t seem like it. “with my wife?”

SUNOO your husband is handsome. you’d say that he is pretty, ethereal even. you know that already— how gorgeous he is and how magnetic is aura can be. so, it doesn’t surprise you when he tells you that his colleagues spend half of their time trying to match him up with someone and the other half hitting on him with barely any shame. he always denies their offer with a sweet laugh—until he comes back from his honeymoon. he looks refreshed, he can’t stop smiling whenever he thinks about you, which makes him ten times more attractive. this time, when someone tells him that one of his colleagues likes him, he denies again but with a brand new formula. “i am a married man, now.”

JUNGWON can’t leave home without the satisfaction of your lips touching his. even if it’s not necessarily his lips, he wants a kiss somewhere on him. your complaints about how it’ll ruin your lip combo or take off your lipstick doesn’t affect him at all. your husband gets a kiss from his wife no matter what. sometimes, he even leaves before you can tell him that your lipstick is on his mouth, because he shuts you up with another peck before running away. usually, he notices it and take it off but not today. this time, it’s when one of his colleagues asks him who he got those stains from that he remembers. “oh, it must have been from my wife.”

RIKI he doesn’t understand why people don’t believe whenever he brings you up. he always talks about you— while making sure the use the term ‘my wife’ ever since you got married. however, it doesn’t seem to get into his colleagues’ head, for some reason that he either doesn’t know or that doesn’t make any sense. “i can’t go out with you guys today,” he tells his colleagues, already looking for his car somewhere in the parking lot— his mind is only focused in on coming home to you. “my wife is waiting for me at home.” today he decides to directly show pictures of your wedding when they ask what he is talking about. he was right, ‘but you are so young!’ is a stupid argument.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[goddamnitmahtin]

Welcome to the Family

(a dc x dp prompt)

Someone please write this. Give me adult Danny sitting on that sweet Fenton family money. Give me Danny with that Ghost King money. Give me Danny with a deaged Dan and Dani as teens. Give me vigilante Phantom who needs to feed his protection ghost obsession by protecting the people of his city. Give me Danny Phantom with an empire of vigilantes who work with him in his name who are also his family. Give me Danny being Bruce Wayne.

Except, he’s significantly better at it than Bruce.

The Pham keeps growing and the lineup of vigilantes that all share the same symbol on their chest keeps getting better. Every member of the team is loved and cared for. And no one who isn’t already dead dies because you better bet your ass they have a plan for EVERY scenario. If someone gets hurt? Phantom will avenge them. The Ghost King can and will collect any souls that are overdo. He can and will allow those who have killed may be ripped apart by the ghosts of their own victims.

The lineup of vigilantes may have started out small, just Phantom and Red Huntress. But then it grew. Tucker joined behind his computer, providing technical support as Firewall. Sam stood beside him with her ever growing plant magic as Iris. Jazz offered her ability for psychoanalysis, giving her ability to use Tucker’s research and her own brain for profiling as Mandela. Dani joined her father as Spector and Dan wasn’t far behind as Wraith.

That was only the beginning. After Phantom was officially asked to join the Justice League, the Pham only grew. Much to the dismay of the others.

Superboy was no more after Danny watched Superman speak in such a horrid way about the boy. Kon was doing just fine now in the Pham. He was much happier as Spright. After Danny adopt him, he never had to feel like he had to be ashamed of who he was as a clone. Dani was a clone too and Danny loved her all the same.

The second Robin? Haha…. yeah the moment that boy died, Danny adopted him. Jason was heartbroken and betrayed by Batman but he knew he would never have to feel that way again. He could spend the rest of his half life with the magic Robin once gave him as Lucky Charm. Except now? He knew the magic came from inside him. Not from his title.

Danny may or may not have stolen the fourth Robin as well. All Danny needed was to watch him yell at her during a meeting one time. Once she joined the Pham, she was always respected and no one yelled at her. Her more unpredictable tendencies? Completely welcome and very effective when the team around you is just as wild and creative. Stephanie liked her life as Violet.

After working with the Titans, Danny may or may not have also picked up Raven on the way. She really needed a father figure and Danny was more than willing to provide. Rachel was invited to every movie night, family dinner and party the Pham had and of course, she had her own room in the Pham household if she ever needed a place to crash.

Give me Danny pulling a Bruce Wayne so hard that he outBruces the Wayne. Give me Danny being the best dad on the planet. Give me Danny also funding the JL just so Bruce can’t. Give me Danny casually knowing all the dirt on all the other JL members because he stole their kids and they aren’t afraid to tell him what they did.

[manicmanuscription]

Selfishly Late

This is the the second part to unapologetically selfish!!

I have literally rewrote this piece like five fucking times no joke. It's still not perfect in my eyes and there's definitely going to be a part three but I needed to post this before I went insane.

Thank you all for your patience and support I love you <3

Word Count: 1554

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, suggestive, possessive Azriel.

Summary: Azriel has you running a little late to your introduction with his family. But he just can't seem to keep his hands off you.

divider by @strangergraphics-archive

You took one last look in the mirror before scoffing. 

Azriel had absolutely covered you in hickies. On any inch of skin he could reach, paying extra attention to your throat and collarbones. You gave him a pointed glare as he finished dressing behind you in the mirror but he was too busy fixing the cuff of his sleeves to notice. With a roll of your eyes you reached down for the scarf, draping it over your neck and brushing your hair back from underneath. 

“What do you think you’re doing?”  Azriel asked, slightly appalled as you adjusted your scarf and hair to cover some of the more egregious bruises.

He crossed the room in a few strides before standing directly behind you as you sat at your vanity. You didn’t even have a chance to respond before he pulled the scarf away from your neck gently and pinned your hair up with the jeweled metal hairpin he had gotten you last year as a birthday present, perfectly showing off the hickies.

“Azriel!” You exclaimed, turning in your seat to face him and his eyes gleamed at the yellowing dots decorating your bare skin. “I can not show up to your family’s house like this!” 

His brows furrowed slightly, the only sign of confusion you’d read off the usually stoic male. “But you look so pretty like this my love.” He murmured, reaching down and brushed his fingertips against the tender skin, his breath tickling your ear as he pressed another biting kiss to the juncture of your throat. 

Everyone told you once a mating bond snapped the males got unusually possessive, of course you believed them but Azriel was something on a whole different level. When you first met him he explained Illyrians were more territorial, all the instincts heightened. You couldn’t remember the exact sciences on it why but it made you feel so safe, loved and incredibly turned on. 

You gave him an exasperated look through the mirror, one he promptly ignored. His hands curling tighter around your shoulders. This had been going on for years. Every attempt at an introduction was thwarted by Azriel’s skilled persuasive abilities and intoxicating touch.

You did your best to stay strong this time, trying to ignore the way your entire being electrified at his close proximity, sparks running along every expanse of skin he touched. Your toes curled and you let out a soft breathy moan. One that Azriel had still heard and a victorious smile graced his lips. He hid his face in your neck so you didn’t see it. 

But you still did and it was enough to -barely- break you out of his spell. You stood up out of your chair and he rose to full height with you, towering over you slightly. “Azriel!” You reprimanded. “We are going to be late.”  

“We’re already late, what’s an extra five minutes?” He smirked, his shadows swirling around his shoulders as if in agreement. You scoffed, letting out a few curses under your breath. He had been pulling this all morning. 

You didn’t have to be a Spymaster to know Azriel was dragging his feet, first holding you tighter in bed so he could keep using your stomach as a pillow, spilling coffee on the outfit you’d picked out so you’d have to spend another 15 minutes trying to create a new one and now this hickey situation.  

You knew the High Lord or Lady was yelling at him too if any of the occasional winces and rubbing his temples were anything to go by. 

“I’m going to be making such a bad impression already!” You protested, holding your palm out for your clothing back. “Now give me my scarf so we can go please.” 

Azriel just looked at the light brown fabric still wrapped in his hands as if it committed a grievous act against him. “You’re so obsessed with this scarf.” 

You groaned, this time you were the one soothing your head with your fingertips. You knew he struggled when you were gone for long periods of time, both of your work schedules making it endlessly hard to actually have time to be husband and wife, mates, and life partners it drove you crazy too but you’d have to find a compromise because there was no way you were showing up to the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court’s estate covered in hickies. 

You told him as much and he paused, finally noticing your nerves of the event. Years after missed dates and scheduling conflicts and getting distracted by Azriel’s sly touch was all coming to an end, you were finally meeting his family, it loomed over your head and nerves pumped violently through your bloodstream.

It was a bittersweet feeling and you just wanted everything to go well, Azriel wouldn’t stop talking about how amazing his family was. His love for them ran deep and if they somehow didn’t like you….

Azriel begrudgingly passed the scarf over, your comfortability and safety would always come first and he tamped down those raging instincts telling him to whisk you and mark you more thoroughly and reclaim you over and over again especially after your long time apart. He instead pressed a comforting kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry love, we are completely mild compared to the crazy shit I’ve seen or heard my brother’s get into with their mates.” He shuddered and you laughed a little bit, pressing yourself closer to him so you could give him a quick hug and a soft peck to his lips, hearing a mumbled “Gods you’re killing me.”  Before sitting back down at your vanity. He sent a wave of reassurance through the bond and you returned it. You've dined with High Lord’s before this would be fine, you were fine. It had to be fine. 

“He’s not coming.” Mor said with finality. Looking over at the golden watch on Amren’s wrist. “I mean they were supposed to be here thirty minutes ago.” The ancient female pulled her hand away from the blonde sharply, giving her an even harsher look of disdain.

Cassian eyed the clock nervously and shot Mor a warning glare. It was incredibly important to him that this went well, you were a major part in his brother’s life and he wanted to not only make a good impression but also make sure you were good enough for Azriel, he recognized it as a silly thought you’d been mated for many years (unbeknownst to him) -and he’d definitely be having some words with Azriel about not being there for his mating ceremony later- but he wanted to make sure Azriel felt loved and cherished, taken care of with all the shit he’d already been through in his lifetime. 

Rhysand just let out a soft sigh, swirling the orange juice in his glass, desperately wishing it was something stronger. He’d assumed his dear brother would be late based on his previous patterns and the little reunion they’d witnessed last night but not this late and he was giving the Spymaster five more minutes before he winnowed the entire family, and their dining table to his living room torches all ablaze and pitchforks raised.

Although he couldn’t help but let out a soft smile at the thought of the usual strict and punctual Shadowsinger was willing to abandon his rigid routine for someone. 

“He’ll be here.” Feyre assured on her mate’s behalf, although her own confidence in him was waning, he did have a habit of simply not showing up when an introduction was planned. 

“You’re sure the female you saw wasn’t an illusion or a paid actress or-?” Mor started but suddenly the lighting in the room dimmed, shadows moving briefly across the edges of the floorboards before the sunlight streamed through the windows once again. An unfamiliar female’s voice rang throughout the large house as she laughed and Cassian’s heart flooded with relief at the sound, anxiety simultaneously  pumping in his chest, he wanted everything to go perfectly.

 “-are absolutely ridiculous.” “Yeah, yeah.” The shadowsinger muttered, the leftover pieces of conversation barely reaching the Inner Circle’s ears. 

Two sets of footsteps echoed across the floorboards, getting closer and closer to the dining room.

 Mor whispered a shocked. “No way.” Another step. “No way.” Another step. “No way.” 

She whispered it after every movement made until finally the couple came into view, standing in the open doorway and she couldn’t even make a sound, her mouth dropping at the sight of you. 

There was a few stunned moments of silence. 

The Inner Circle was staring at you as if you were a foreign creature and you shifted a little bit under their gaze, your mate had prepared you for an endless stream of questions but not the wide eyes and open mouths although you guess it was to be expected and Azriel tightened his hold on your shoulders protectively. 

“Surely you have better manners than this?” He bit out a little harsher than originally meant after a few more uncomfortable moments of stillness. 

You gave them a bright smile and a timid wave, breaking them out of their trance and all of a sudden they erupted with movement pulling you in for hugs and shaking your hands. Not so subtly inspecting you all the while bombarding you with questions.

This was going to be quite the breakfast. 

[vmlnrzmp4]

What if Blue Lock dad's parents were visiting to see their grandchild? (Though with an exception of Michael, for an... Obvious reasons, so, how about with Michael instead some comfort stuff with him having some memories of his parents after seeing his mother on TV, then coming back to reality with a family he actually has now?)

a/n: hey lovely, i excluded kaiser here for obvious reasons :(

itoshi sae

"tadaima," sae says nonchalantly as he steps in, his parents following behind.

the moment they enter, natsuki—who had been playing with barbie dolls—gets up and rushes toward them.

"ojiichan!" she calls, sprinting straight into her grandfather’s arms.

sae’s father laughs heartily, kneeling down just in time to catch his granddaughter, "ah, my little natsuki! did you miss me?"

"mhm! so much!" she says, nuzzling into his shoulder.

sae’s mother, standing beside him, crosses her arms, "no hugs for me?"

natsuki giggles and wiggles free, rushing toward her.

"obaachan~!" she sings, wrapping her tiny arms around her grandmother’s waist.

sae clicks his tongue, "natsuki," he calls softly but firmly.

natsuki looks up from the hug. "yes, papa?"

sae stares at her for a second before sighing and turning away. "nothing. forget it."

natsuki blinks then realizes, "oh papa! hug for papa!" she says as sae picks natsuki in her arms.

you chuckle, stepping forward to help with the bags. "guess you were feeling left out, no?"

"shut up," he mutters.

his mother smirks. "he was always like this when rin got more attention as a baby too."

"mom—" sae glares at her.

his father chuckles, placing a hand on sae’s shoulder.

"some things never change."

itoshi rin

"—and don’t forget how you used to follow sae around everywhere."

"mom, enough," rin says, angrily stabbing his food with the fork. but trying his best to be gentle for his daughter.

sakura gasps, "papa, were you a little shadow?"

"absolutely not," says rin.

"yes," his mother corrects.

you couldn't help but look away, your hand covering your mouth as you laugh.

rin groans, rubbing his temples. "can we just eat?"

but sakura isn't done and starts mimicking his every movement. If he reaches for his glass, she does too. If he leans forward, so does she. "look, ma, obaachan! ojiichan! i'm a little shadow just like papa!" she giggles.

you hold back another laugh while rin sighs, giving his daughter a stern look, "sakura. sit properly."

"but papa—"

"sakura," he warns.

his mother laughs, "she really takes after you, rin."

isagi yoichi

"yuki-chan!" yoichi's mother exclaims, taking yuki in her arms and showering her face with so many kissys.

"obaachan!" yuki giggles.

after setting yuki down, yoichi’s mom turns to you, "y/n-chan!" she says, pulling you into a hug, "it’s been too long. have you been taking care of yourself?"

you nod, hugging her back, "of course, mom."

yoichi steps forward, expecting a greeting, only to get a quick pat on the head. "ah, and there's yo-chan."

"mom!" he groans.

his father chuckles, lifting little yuki, "my little yuki-chan has gotten so big! look at you!" then, turning to you, "yoichi isn’t giving you trouble, is he?"

"oi! why does everyone assume that?!" yoichi asks.

his mom smirks, "because yoichi was such a weak little thing growing up. always so soft-hearted, getting teary-eyed over the smallest things."

"mom—!"

"oh, like that time he lost a game and clung to me the whole day, pouting?" his dad adds with a laugh.

"mom! dad! enough!"

yuki gasps dramatically. "papa, you used to pout?"

you let out a chuckle while yoichi buries his face in his hands. his mother simply pats his back. "don’t worry, yo-chan. you turned out fine."

"barely," his dad jokes.

taglist: @anuverse @luciddre @kongkhoi @illyriakrasniqi2007 @passw-0-rd @x3nafix @levihanmyotp [open]

[armysantiny]

Yes, no, maybe so? – Sylus

P: Sylus x gender neutral reader | G: angst, hurt/comfort, drabble | Inc: nightmares, Sylus having nightmares, Sylus' pov, that night where MC shot him, a reversal au (kinda), implied work trips, a lot of hurt and some comfort as a treat, a much needed cuddle at the end | Wc: 1.15k | W: blood, nightmares, gun mention | R: G

Min's notes: Look I said I like giving the LIs angst, aight? And this idea's been rattling in my head for a good month now. Enjoy <3

Sylus isn’t sure how he ended up here. Between endless business meetings and clearing up loose ends, the hallways surrounding him should be familiar, be somewhere he’s more than used to. But they’re not. His already irregular heartbeat trembles, a cloying, uncomfortable blend of fear and trepidation clogging the back of his throat, forcing him to stay silent as each step brings him closer to his supposed destination. Where’s he even walking to? In all his years building a name for himself, what could possibly have him trembling like this?

And where’s y/n?

Y/n’s supposed to be coming back from their overseas mission tonight, their flight in particular tracked on his phone just so Sylus can be there on time to pick them up. It’s been several—three—torturous weeks without his beloved’s presence, phone calls and texts barely making up for the lack of a certain hunter at home and in his arms. Sure, Sylus could have coincidentally found himself there and kept an eye on y/n from a distance, but he’s already promised y/n that he’ll wait for them to arrive.

He's never broken a promise made to his beloved, and he doesn’t intend to start doing so now.

So lost in thought as he walks, that Sylus freezes the moment he hears laughter so familiar that it hurts. It tears him out of the confines of his mind, forces him to take in the scene facing him with growing horror. A growing horror as Sylus recognises what it is exactly that he’s looking at.

Y/n sits in a chair—no, a throne—regarding him with dangerously amused indifference, one of Sylus’ weapons resting precariously in their lap. Their smile is a precious thing, something Sylus covets for himself like the selfish dragon he once was. But not this. Not the cruel, calculating expression wearing his beloved’s face.

“What is all of this?” He asks, quiet against the ringing in his ears. “Sweetheart... what are you doing?”

Y/n doesn't answer him, doesn't grant Sylus anything more than the upturn of their lips and a short huff. Like they never even heard him, and whatever his beloved is reacting to has nothing to do with the words that spill out of his mouth. He wants to reach out, hold them close and ask, no, plead for them to stop entire charade. Instead, his body moves on its own, a puppet on strings he can’t see, slave to a force he can’t reason with.

Vitriol pours out of his mouth; accusations of murder Sylus knows to be false. False because y/n would never kill in cold blood. Where his hands are stained red frequently, he can count on one hand the amount of times y/n has willingly joined him in staining their hands with human blood.

So why? Why is he saying all of this?

He blinks again, and Sylus wants to be sick, hands shaking as he’s stood over y/n. Holding firearms usually comes so naturally, a comfortable weight on a normal day, but not this. Anything but this, where y/n wears his smirk, pulling him closer until his hulking form encompasses them on the chair. The barrel of the gun presses against their chest, and this time Sylus doesn’t stop himself from begging.

“Sweetheart, kitten, please,” he chokes out, pulling his hand away only for y/n to yank it right back. He’s sure he still has his Evol, nestled away in the depths of his shared soul, but it’s not listening to him. Not obeying his desire to stop this. “Don’t make me do this to you, anyone else but you.”

“Why? Do you need help?” Y/n coos, wrapping their hand around the gun and pressing Sylus’ finger on the trigger, teasing it the very same way he did months ago.

A mistake, it was a mistake. I misjudged, please, forgive me.

“Go on, shall I help you? Yes, no, maybe so?”

His words. Those were his words. Oh, Sylus really feels sick now. Understanding hits him in waves, drowning him in the truth of the current situation. How could he possibly forget? How dare he forget the way he first treated his beloved back then; still stuck in the delusion that they remembered the past the two of them shared? Everyday, he’s tried to make amends, apologise for his brutish desperation in the face of their reunion. And y/n, sweet, precious y/n, they’ve forgiven his sins time and time again.

But Sylus can’t forgive himself, not when his actions hurt the love of his life in ways he could never fathom. He feels it now, he assumes; the dread, fear, concealed fury that that threatens to burst the seams of self-control. All the emotions his beloved—

The gun goes off.

“No, no, no— shit, my love, no.” Sylus cries, flinging the weapon aside to who knows where in favour of stemming the flow of blood. There’s so much, spilling past his fingers and drenching their shirt. It fills his mouth, cloying in the back of his throat, drowning his senses. Desperation digs its claws into him like he’s never felt before, pushing at him to fix this, cursing Sylus for being able to stop all of this blood from spilling.

Y/n’s eyes have lost their glow, yet their voice echoes, a mockery of his failure. His futile attempt at trying to outrun fate.

“Sylus?

It hurts, twists and squeezes his heart until it cracks.

“Sylus, love? C’mon, please, you need to wake up.”

How can he wake up, when they won’t be there in his arms?

“Sy—”

Y/n’s eyes are warm as Sylus bolts upright, warm and concerned and not at all lifeless as they search his face. His chest heaves, too hesitant to check his hands for what Sylus is too scared to even think of. But he doesn’t need to, his beloved bringing his hands to their face, miraculously blood-free. It doesn’t make sense, he felt the gun go off, felt the blood seep through his fingers.

“Darling, I— I don’t understand…”

“It was a nightmare, Sy,” y/n answers, a soothing balm to the terror in his chest. “You’re here, with me, I promise. Whatever it was, it won’t hurt you.”

Sylus almost wants to refute their claims, make a case for why that particular nightmare will never truly leave him, but he says nothing. Instead, he basks in their embrace, pulling y/n flush against his chest so he can feel their heartbeat and breathing in their scent until it overpowers the blood he swears he can still taste on the back of his tongue.

“…feeling any better?” They ask, and Sylus’ heart grows more than he thought possible. God, they’re just so sweet.

“Now that I’m sure you’re in my arms, I am.” As long as y/n’s with him, no matter where the two of them are, Sylus’ heat will always be whole. “Thank you for comforting me, my heart.”

“Anytime.”

[andromeda-collective]

i have multiple and im going to mention all of them but im starting with THIS FUCKER HERE (blade from honkai star rail) AND I HAVE A VERY STUPID REASON FOR IT

there was an minigame thing with a character named march 7th (dont ask) and there were little events you could encounter throughout it and one of them was that you had to choose between a red and blue pill (or the third option of giving a nonanswer) and since my choice didnt matter at all i went with the red pill because i know that the matrix is a transfem allegory and i also hc march as transfem but then another character made a little comment that blade would ALSO pick the red pill which completely makes sense for his character but since i was still on the transfem allegory mindset i had the thought of "wait does this make blade transfem??" so shes transfem to me now 👍

estrogen would NOT save her. not even REMOTELY. he's a suicidal immortal who physically cannot die because of a ritual his old friend-with-romantic-implications tried who he now wants dead more than anything else. hes basically possessed by evil plants that revive him every time he dies and he goes fucking feral. hes a mass murderer with a bounty of over 8 billion. nothing can save him. but transitioning might make her miserable life slightly more manageable? plus i mean.. throwing your old name away and being a new person? obviously a metaphor for being trans /j

boothill! this is slightly for shipping reasons (turning a het ship wlw for funzies) but mostly projecting my gender-nonconforming transness onto the only southern disabled character i know of. are we different kinds of southern? yes. are we different kinds of disabled? also yes. do i care? absolutely not. (also because butch southern women make the world go round)

also sampo because the idea that this fuck is a cisgender ANYTHING is laughable. this is a nonbinary transfem boymoding for shits and giggles who randomly switches to the girl voice when talking to someone JUST to fuck with them because nobody else would believe them and the person would think theyre losing it. typical masked fool stuff. gaslight gatekeep girlboss.

and then from genshin impact: zhongli. who has CANONICALLY used shapeshifting to become a woman. and has likely done so on more than one occasion. this guy is CANONICALLY GENDERFLUID WHETHER PEOPLE LIKE IT OR NOT. and you can obviously be genderfluid and transfem at the same time so why the hell not :D

most other characters i hc as transfem i dont have much of a reason for, but im gonna list them anyways cause hell yeah

argenti (hsr) - she can have a little estrogen as a treat

dr. ratio (hsr) - no reason i just think it could work

sunday (hsr) - something something religious-trauma-and-giving-into-what-you-once-believed-to-be-sinful

diluc (genshin) - fanfiction on ao3 changed my brain chemistry

kazuha (genshin) - also no reason i just think it fits

sebastian solace (a game on roblox called pressure) - im gonna be honest with you op, i just like putting this fucker in situations. and i would love to see the struggle of medically transitioning when you've been forcibly had your body and dna altered to the point of no longer being human. even ignoring for a few seconds the thought that maybe hrt wouldnt have the same effect (or any effect at all) due to the experiments, how could you will yourself to alter yourself medically in any way after the horrific trauma you've experienced? its between fucking with your already fucked up body or having the dysphoria kill you from the inside out. i am rotating her in my mind even harder now.

p.ai.nter (from same game) on the other hand? a lot simpler. make the ai with guns a girl. also just a funny idea: you know that "put eyelashes on it to make it obvious that its a girl" thing? yeah. painter doing that.

^ TELL ME SHE WOULDNT.

i would apologize for the essay but you did say i was legally required to share so this is your fault /lh

anyways i hope you enjoyed the women

If you see this post you’re legally required to tell me at least one trans woman headcanons you have for a canonically male character, I never get to see transfem headcanons like that, give me them, and for equality of my own please know estrogen could have saved Insector Haga and Dinosaur Ryuzaki I will not elaborate, also Yuya.

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Simon taking care of a child with medical issues when her bio dad is a deadbeat (✿◡‿◡)

I can just imagine Simon would be so good with a little girl who has type 1 diabetes. (There's a little bit of explaining of different medical terms so you're not left hanging) BUT TRUST ME HE WOULD BE SO GOOD FOR THE BOTH OF YOU

You had gotten pregnant with your little girl, Annabeth (Beth for short), a year after being married to Ethan. He seemed ready to be a dad, but once he found out Beth has diabetes, he cares for her less and less. He went to classes with you two, learned how to calculate her bolus (amount of insulin needed at meals) and basal (baseline amount of insulin for the day), but never did them properly. She'd end up with high blood sugars all day, sometimes getting ketones (breakdown of muscle in an attempt to breakdown sugar when there's no insulin) because he wouldn't give her the right amount of insulin. She'd puke and cry from how bad she felt, and he still wouldn't take care of her properly.

It would cause you to have to come home in the middle of work to give her the insulin he wouldn't, or if she got ketones, take her to the ER. You'd constantly get into arguments that would end with him going to the pub, and you crying. He wouldn't change, no matter how many times you explained that she could die from improper inulin dosage.

Other times, he'd give her too much, and her blood sugar would drop so low she could barely drink her juice. He'd call you, saying she's barely able to move, she's sweaty and the color from her face is drained, that she's crying, and he doesn't fucking know what to do.

The divorce ended with you having full custody, you allowing small visitations that are supervised. You can't trust he will take care of her how she needs.

NOW

When you start dating Simon, you explain to him why you got divorced, and how important your baby's health is. Even more so that she's so fragile. He assures you he's nothing like your ex-husband and would go strictly by your instruction if you allow him to be a part of her life.

The first few times he was around Beth, he payed close attention to how you took care of her. One time, at the park, Beth played a bit too hard, and her blood sugar dropped. You had 2 juices with you, but she went through those so fast. Once her blood sugar went back up, she played too hard again. Without telling you, he had already brought a few juices in his car. That was the first time he took care of her.

The second time was then you had asked him to pick up her prescriptions from the pharmacy. He waited for her insulin, but they only gave one vial. He explained to them that she uses two a month and that she needs the other one. They said that was all that was ready, so he waited 2 hours until the other one was ready.

What made up your mind was when you were called into work under an emergency, and you had no one to take care of Beth. You hadn't slept well the night before so when Simon offered to watch her, you hadn't thought to explain her dosage formula to him. It wasn't until the end of your shift that you realized and sped home (definitely going over the speed limit). Rushing through the door, you were greeted with the sight of Beth laying on Simon's chest, sound asleep. How was she not sick from no insulin?

"You told me her basal, so I gave her tha'"

oh

"What about the food she ate? Did she eat? What insulin did you give her?" You asked, extremely confused.

"I looked up no carb to low carb foods so I wouldn't have to worry about tha'. She had a cheese stick with some almonds and a lil bit of mashed blueberries with cinnamon mixed in, wasn't very hungry though so she didn't really finish it" he says softly, petting her hair, "told you I'd take care of her, mama"

oh

He really wasn't like her dad.

So, it wasn't really unreasonable when after she was put to bed, you pushed him to your bedroom and took care of him too.

(All of the information in this is coming from me, a type 1 diabetic. Everyone's diabetes is a little different, so this is based off of how mine affects me)

[revelboo]

Alright which fragger is gonna be the one who starts spreading human valve is good propaganda? Wheeljack and Constructicons are builders for human houses. I’m imagining a little catalogue or file being sent spread anonymously to all the bots on earth and more about human mate and their needs. Primus, is Optimus going to the leader who first ends up with a interface/sex scandal? Walked/ran on by humans and doing a psa about it, or is going back for double points for Megatron and being sparked up by a human? Regardless the G1/IDW Revelbooverse is unhinged and I love it. Thank you for giving us this gorgeous Fuckery.

I’m just having fun, but honestly, I can see Thundercracker writing and anonymously sending out a human care manual just on blast. Bots and Cons both

So You Have A Human

Thundercracker x Reader

So you have a human or are thinking of acquiring one. Stop. Humans require a lot of care and attention. They’re social and need to be kept entertained. Before committing to finding a human, maybe use a holomatter avatar to go out among them and observe. Don’t try to touch or grab them, though. They will attack. Another less hands on way to research is to check out human media.

If you’ve decided you do want a human partner, understand how fragile they are. They scare easily, so understand how intimidating you are. You’re much bigger than they are. Don’t pick them up by their limbs or you can break those delicate bones. Cup them in your hands, keeping your grip loose so they don’t panic, but not so loose they can wiggle free and fall. They’ll die if they fall out of your hands. Don’t chase them down, you can actually scare humans to death as strange as that sounds.

Humans need organic foodstuffs and access to clean water. Just because something is organic, doesn’t mean that they can consume it. Please, find and retrieve foodstuffs meant for human consumption, don’t scavenge in the outdoors for them. They’re picky eaters.

Is your human a bit skittish? They tend to be cold in temperatures comfortable to Cybertronians, so coax your human into sleeping on your chassis. It gets them used to you much faster, letting them get comfortable with the sound of your spark. Make sure you talk to them. Ask them questions and get to know them. They need to socialize.

Interfacing with organics is taboo. And that’s an outdated belief. Humans are amazing. Court your human with little treats. Flowers. Snacks. Some of them adore sparkly ornaments. But make your intentions clear. Don’t just whip out your spike and hope for the best. Build a relationship first.

So you’ve successfully won your human over and you’re both comfortable with each other. Time to mass shift to their level. Humans kiss like we do. They interface like we do. Take your time exploring your partner with servos and your mouth. Try to take it slow so you don’t overwhelm them, because even mass shifted, Cybertronians are still much bigger.

Humans are incredibly flexible, but be sure to check with your human frequently. Make sure they’re comfortable. You’ll need to be patient, and properly prepare your human before you can-

• Head lifting sleepily from where you’re sprawled on him, you reach to tap a finger against the datapad he’s frantically typing alien glyphs on. “What are you smiling about?” Oh. Now he’s embarrassed, wings shifting at his back where they’re partially pinned under him. What is he writing? Because he’s acting like he got caught doing something he shouldn’t be doing, won’t even meet your eyes. “Alright. Keep your secrets, but if you’re writing smut about us, you better change our names.”

• Reaching to stroke your cheek, he saves his work and sets it aside. And mass shifts, smiling when you gasp and grab at him. “It’s not like that. I just- there’s a lot of us with humans now and I thought I’d explain some stuff. You know, so there’s not any mistakes or accidents. Misunderstandings.” And you lean up on him, mouth brushing his. Servos threading into your hair as his other hand rests on your hip. Because this means everything. This intimacy.

• “As long as you’re not encouraging your people to go snatch mine,” you say, lips ghosting over his before you sit up on him. “You’re not, right?” And he immediately shakes his head, the tension spilling out of you. A little heads up on taking care of humans definitely couldn’t hurt. You know there are other humans here, but the Decepticons are weirdly protective of their humans and don’t seem to trust each other that much. “I still want to round all the humans here up. Humans need other humans. No offense.” His palm slides up your side, touch almost reverent.

• “I’m trying,” he replies. Because for you? If you need to spend time with other humans, he wants you to. Wants you to have whatever you want. “You know I’d do anything for you.” Loves you too much to deny you anything.

[witherby]

I need anything and everything of jason being Mouses favourite. (The Littlest Wayne AU)

They get a snack/ meal - Jay Jay has to take a bite first before they eat

They have a new toy- Jay Jay has to see and play

I’ll take anything you can think of.

I am obsessed. The AU is amazing

-🤍💜

Say less! I love Jason Todd and so does Flittermouse! By the way the word count is 3100+ lol oops

The Littlest Wayne: Fist Bumps

Masterlist is Here!

"This is stupid."

"Shut up, you're just mad you won't get picked."

Tim kicks Damian in the shin, who retaliates by kicking him back much, much harder in the ankle. Tim cries out, about to start a fight, but one stern look from Alfred settles them both down. They continue to sit beside each other without fuss, and soon everyone is all neatly lined in a row while Hal uses his ring to keep you safely suspended in a bubble, playing with a little rattle.

"Alright," Dick says excitedly, "we're going over the rules one more time! No jingling any shiny objects for Flitty to chase after, no getting out of line to get closer to them, and Bruce, no bare skin! We're gonna have Hal set them down and see who they come to first."

"This isn't gonna go the way you think it's gonna go," Bruce says, endlessly amused. "Please, none of you get your feelings hurt."

"Nobody's gonna start cryin', relax," Jason says, lounging on the floor between Damian and Hal. "Kay, we ready?"

A chorus of agreement follows, and Hal gently lowers you to the floor. They all immediately call your name, or variations of your nickname, waving their hands and patting their laps to get you to come to them. Your eyes widen, startled by the sudden rush of noise, and turn your head to assess everyone across the room.

You lock on to the man you want, the binky in your mouth bopping up and down excitedly, and you start speedily crawling to Jason.

"I KNOW that's fuckin' right!" He yells, scooping you into his arms and gently tossing you in the air a couple inches, then peppering your face with kisses. "I'm the favorite you little freaks. Kiss my ass."

"Okay, whatever, we knew that already," Dick says, "now it's time to see who the second favorite is. Put them down and go away so we can play again."

"Be nice to your brother," Bruce says. Dick flicks Bruce in the ear and he scowls. "Ow. Be nice to me."

"Fine. Gotta know who my competition is for the number one spot in Mousey's heart, even if I'm winning by a landslide." Jason carries you across the room and sets you back down. "You stay for a sec, kay? Pound it." He picks up your chubby arm and makes you give him a fist bump, then walks away from you.

Before they can even start a second round of the game, you're shuffling after him again. Christ, it's adorable.

"It's because they can still see you, Todd," Damian says, scooping you up to put back in starting position. "Duck behind the couch."

Jason rolls his eyes but complies, bending down until he's out of sight. When the rest of the family calls for you again, you shuffle forward like you're going to crawl to Hal, but you veer past him and around to the back of the couch to get to Jason again.

"Oh my god, they've developed object permanence already," Tim says. Jason's triumphant laughter fills the room as he lifts you up to give you more kisses. His endless delight and your happy squealing softens the blow to everyone else's egos.

"This game sucks anyway," Dick mumbles, crossing his arms in defeat. "What idiot even came up with it in the first place..."

--

"You ask."

"Uh, no? You ask? I don't care."

"Yeah but he tolerates your questions. I don't wanna get my jaw blown off."

"Then don't ask, dumbass. It's so easy."

Jason clears his throat, causing the two goons to stiffen up and turn to face him. One of them looks upset that he was caught unaware, and the other looks one wrong move away from pissing himself.

"Hi, boss," they both greet.

"Whatcha talkin' about?" Jason asks, taking a half-step closer. "Cause last I checked, I sent you both over here to do quality control on our newest drug shipment. And I'm not seeing a lot of that gettin' done."

He turns to the more frightened man. If he didn't have his helmet on, he would've sneered at him.

"So what's the hold up? Need me to sew some mouths shut? Hmm? Want me t'cut out your fuckin' tongue? That'll motivate you real fast, I bet."

"We'll get right on it, boss," the other, clearly smarter, henchman states. "We were just. Uh. Wondering why there's... why there's a baby strapped to your chest."

Jason looks down at you. You stare right back at him, making a soft cooing noise around your Red Hood-themed binky, and reach up for his mask. He gently takes your hand instead, feeling your tiny fingers curl around the leather of his gloved pointer. He's smiling sweetly at you, despite no one being able to see it.

"This is M," he says by way of an answer. "Won't be an everyday occurrence — couldn't find another babysitter so I assured the dad I'd keep 'em safe for the night."

He doesn't mention that your dad is also his dad, and that when Jason tried to leave to do his vigilante work, you screamed the house down and would only calm down in his arms, therefore he had no choice. So here you are, strapped to his chest in a onesie padded with kevlar and vital-tracking tech, while your favorite brother carries your diapers and formula around in the same duffel he stashes his guns.

And because you're his favorite, too, he secretly hopes you throw more fits so he gets to hoard you all to himself again. Taking a few minutes to tickle your tummy or gently rock you in his arms stops him from losing his patience and blowing out the brains of several subordinates tonight — which his men clearly catch onto, because they all start telling him how nice it is to see such a cute and perfect and pleasant, life-saving baby hanging around.

Fuck yeah it's nice. S'cause you're the coolest baby ever. Jason gently makes you fist bump him.

--

"AHHH!"

Jason is out of his chair and bolting across the Manor before his brain fully registers your screaming through the baby monitor. There's surprised exclamations and footfalls not far from him as his thunderous steps stir up a commotion, but he doesn't care about that.

There are very few times in his life when he's moved this fast. Large, expansive rooms fly by him in a blur of color. He takes the stairs six at a time. If a door he needs to get through is closed, he's breaking it down with a well-placed hit with his shoulder and moving on.

When he gets to your room, he stops to yank the door open because he doesn't know if you're near it, and darts inside with a sharp shout of your name.

"What's wrong!?" He pants, zeroing in on you immediately. You've rushed into your wardrobe and climbed inside it, red-faced and crying as a crow flaps haphazardly around the bedroom. The shattered glass on the floor gives him the missing context, and he snatches the bird out of the air with more force than necessary while the adrenaline spike is still scrambling his nervous system.

Bruce is the second person to rush into your room just moments after, crouching by your hiding spot with furrowed brows and a soft, slightly winded voice.

"Are you hurt?" He asks. You whimper but shake your head, fat tears rolling down your little cheeks, and lift your hands. Bruce picks you up without hesitation and stands up.

"Jaylad?" He says, still in that gentle tone. "You alright?"

Jason doesn't answer. He's not alright, not really. The rage he'd built up thinking someone was in here hurting you is still burning through his veins, and with no outlet for it, he's struggling a bit.

Bruce doesn't take offense to his lack of response. He just offers you a small, reassuring smile and bounces you a bit in his arms.

"Let's go find Grandpa and snuggle up with some hot chocolate," he murmurs. "Jay-Jay will hang back and make sure your bedroom is safe for you."

"No!" You sob, leaning around your father's broad shoulders to reach for Jason. "Want Jay-Jay!"

"You can spend time with him in a little while, Mouse," Bruce says, starting to carry you out of the room. Your protests get louder and more frantic, pushing against him to no avail.

"Want Jay!" You repeat, sobbing openly. "Jay-Jay! Want, p'ease!! Jay-Jay!"

"Bruce," Jason utters through grit teeth. His father stops, only a few steps down the hallway, and turns back to him. "It's fine. I'll take 'em, you clean up the mess."

"...are you sure?" Bruce frowns, visibly cautious. He looks down at the bird still flapping helplessly as Jason holds it by the neck, firmer than strictly necessary.

Jason takes a step towards the broken window and tosses the crow out. After a second of frantic flapping, it straightens itself out and flies away with panicked sqawking.

He turns to you and holds out his arms. They're only trembling a little bit, but the edges of his vision are still tinged with green. Bruce hesitates to pass you over.

"I've got it," Jason murmurs, "I'm calm enough. Gimme my fuckin' sibling before you piss me off worse, B."

Bruce nods slowly. He brings you back into the room and hands you off to Jason. Your arms circle his neck and cling on tight, and you bury your face in his chest as you cry. It breaks his heart that you had such a bad scare. He can see the half-completed Lego build you were playing with on the floor in front of the window and hopes Bruce can get all the glass shards out between the bricks and carpet.

Jason carries you out of your bedroom and down the corridor to his. He leaves his door cracked open and flicks on lights as he goes, then brings you to the en-suite bathroom.

"Okay, Mousey," he mumbles, trying to set you on the sink's vanity. You clutch him tighter and whimper, and it drives a spear right through his chest. "Kid, I'm not goin' nowhere. Jay-Jay's right here, I just wanna make sure there's no glass on you."

A little more prodding and the compromise of you holding one of his hands gets you to relent. You sit miserably on the counter as your sobs slowly die down, and Jason tediously checks your hair and clothes for any bits of glass that may have landed on you when the crow crashed into the window. The slow, repetitive motions help quiet the last of his anger until he's just tired and concerned for you. He finds a couple tiny pieces, but your skin is unblemished and when he asks if you're hurt, you shake your head, which then calms him entirely.

"Alright, great job," he murmurs. "Come here, we'll go bother Alfie t'give us an icecream sammy before dinner and then cuddle in the main living room. Good plan?"

You sniffle, wiping the last of your tears away. Your cheeks are flushed and puffy. "Yeah, good pwan..."

Jason kisses the top of your head and offers you his fist. You gently bump yours against his, then lift your arms again to be picked back up. He obliges, refusing to put you back down for the rest of the day. When it's time for bed, you don't wanna go back into your room, so he spends the evening reading his current novel with a dim book light while you snooze away on his chest.

--

He's livid. Jason's got a hole in his leg and he can't run away from the rival gang leader pointing a gun at his head, and he's fucking livid.

"My first death was way cooler," he mutters. "Got blown up and everything."

"What the fuck are you saying?" The other man scowls. "I never could understand you through that thick-ass helmet."

"I'm saying, if you're gonna go down as the guy that killed the Red Hood, at least make the execution something fuckin' noteworthy," Jason rants, the pain making him bitchier than usual. He waves his hands for emphasis, pointing at the gunman much like a mother scolding her child. "Ohh I shot him and watched his brain splatter everywhere! So has every single marksman ever. I'm worth more than a bullet in an alleyway. The fuck do I look like, Bruce Wayne's folks?"

"Whoa, man," the shooter says, lifting his free hand to scratch the back of his head. "Let me get this straight. You're not mad I'm gonna kill you. You're that mad I'm not gonna kill you...in a cooler way?"

"Excellent listening ears, bucko! Gold star!" Jason coos, clapping. "Immolation, decapitation, tossin' me in an acid pit — fuck me, I'll take a stab wound over a bullet! D'you know how skilled you gotta be to get close enough to stab Red Hood to death!? If not for me, do somethin' that'll raise your own paltry street cred, shit. You're so fucking boring."

The man doesn't get another chance to weigh his options. The darkness of the alleyway pounces on him, sucking him into the void while he shrieks like an animal. Jason slumps against the wall and watches the shapeless darkness warp and twist, the gun abandoned on the ground in the gunman's initial panic. He feels his heart rate slow when you step out after a minute, wearing a thick jacket over your pajamas and a domino mask over your eyes as you hurry towards him. A flash of irritation makes him scowl as he realizes one of the others woke you up for this, when you aren't even a vigilante to begin with. The culprit's gonna get their ass beat as soon as he recovers enough to track them down.

"Okay," you stammer, kneeling next to him on the ground with a first aid kit. "Okay okay okay...Alf — umm, Agent A? I'm here, what do I do?"

"Remain calm, Flittermouse. All will be well," Alfred soothes you over the comms. Jason feels the adrenaline steadily exiting his body now that he's registered that he's safe. Now, it's a fight to stay conscious so you don't freak out even more than you're currently doing. He's so proud of you for coming out here despite the blatant fear.

Your hands shake as you pop the kit open and pull out the field tourniquet. Alfred instructs you on how to set it up, and Jason gently adjusts it when you wrap it a little too close to the bullet wound in his thigh. He grits his teeth as you tighten it, refusing to make a peep, and gives you a quick thumbs up when you tie it off.

"Okay, I stopped the bleeding. Do I bring him home, now?" You ask.

"As long as he has no other injuries, the medical bay is ready for you to transport him back to the cave."

"M'good, Mousey," Jason says, lifting his fist. "Sorry you had to come rescue your cool big bro. S'not your job."

"I was the one who could get here the fastest," you reply. After a moment's hesitation, you bump his fist with your own. "You're gonna be okay."

"M'gonna be okay," he echoes, knowing you need that confirmation. "Saved my life, kid. I'll do all your chores for the next week."

That gets a wet laugh out of you. You hug Jason tight and the shadows of the alley pool underneath your bodies. Jason closes his eyes and hugs you back, a steady anchor in the free-falling sensation entering your darkness gives him.

"My heroics are only worth a week of chores?"

"S'better than the rest get," he says. "They get one chore. Not even a whole day, just one chore."

You bury your face in his shoulder as the void swallows you and him up.

"You're my favorite, too, Jay-Jay," you mumble. Jason smiles as he loses the battle for consciousness.

--

"Good afternoon; welcome to Truce Juice. Would you like a moment with a menu or are you ready to order?"

Jason leans his hip against the counter and takes a menu off the small, laminated stack you've got sitting there, glancing over the options. Behind the helmet, he smiles as he remembers all the late nights you pulled him and your other brothers into the kitchen to taste test these drinks and snacks, desperate to make things that would appeal to many people. He remembers how proud you were to graduate from your culinary courses and the victory cry you let out when you found insurance willing to cover the building.

You smile warmly at him, waiting patiently for him to choose something off the menu for the first time in your brand new business.

"Black coffee," he says, voice warped by the modulator in the helmet, "two sugars."

"What size?" You ask, tapping it into the screen in front of you.

"Large. And a turkey panini, with avocado and pesto."

"Toasted?"

"What other fuckin' way would anybody get a panini?" He muses aloud. To strangers, he would sound angry, but you can tell he's genuinely asking. You just shrug and keep the soft smile on your face.

"You'd be surprised. Your total's on the screen; will that be cash or card?"

Jason reaches a gloved hand down. It glides past the pistol strapped to his thigh, eliciting nervous gasps from bystanders in the cafe, and into the pocket underneath, drawing out a plain, tri-fold wallet. He pulls out two hundred-dollar bills and huffs at you to keep the change, then saunters over to the pick-up counter to wait.

He crosses his arms and watches you scuttle around behind the counter, genuinely happy to make food and drinks for anybody that comes in. So far, you're uninjured and you've been able to stop any rising conflicts in seconds, which he's endlessly thankful for.

When his order is ready, you hand it to him with another bright smile.

"Alright, mister Hood, here you go. Have a great day!"

Jason nods, about to turn away, when he sees you hold your fist out in his periphery.

He grins, heart fit to burst, and bumps it back.

[kleptokure]

Deceit's Favorite 🃏

Shadow Milk Cookie x Gn!Reader

─ ⊹ ⊱ ☆ ⊰ ⊹ ─

This is bad, you thought to yourself. The outcome of your arrival in Beast-Yeast is far worse than you would have ever thought.

Yes, you expected to encounter the Beast with Deceit engraved into their essence, but within the hour you stepped foot on the foreign terrain? You were not at all prepared to reunite with your old friend face to face all of a sudden.

Being one of the first cookies to be given a Soul Jam, you assumed going to Beast-Yeast would not be a challenge for you, yet the current circumstances proves you incorrect. Now you wish you stayed in Crispia, where the air is not so bitter.

As much as you would love to rescue Pure Vanilla from his absolute contrary personified, there is an obstacle surrounding your shelter.

You are well aware that Gingerbrave and the gang are accompanying Pure Vanilla Cookie, and a battle of them versus one mere cookie seems like an easy fight, but Shadow Milk is a special cookie, which is known to most who are aware of his being. The beast knows the trauma his main opponent withholds, and would not hesitate to use it against him.

Speaking of Shadow Milk Cookie, you’re currently pondering over how he located you in the first place. Your expectations were for his full focus to be on his "Soul Jam thief," but it appears your dough, and crumbs, is much more important in his reality.

Surprisingly, his encounter with you was far from destructive. In all honesty, you admit it was leaning closer to bittersweet.

Shadow Milk Cookie had a lot to say, of course. His words laced with jeers, flirts, yet betrayal at the same time. Though, he did say something along the lines of forgiving you for not standing by his side eons ago.

It comes as hard to remember the exact words, as your mind is fuzzy with all this information. You might be concentrated on the romantic parts of his speech more than you should be.

Your train of thought is brought to an abrupt stop, hearing knocks on the front door to your hidden hideout. It must not be so hidden if the one cookie you scurry from has managed to locate you. Shadow Milk seemingly possesses eyes all over the place, though you could've predicted that part.

There is no point dragging out the eventual conversation awaiting you pair. With that said, you pick yourself up and walk towards the door.

Having opened the door with a rigid gaze, you find there to be no cookie to return your stare.

Great, another trick. You should've guessed that. Now what, is he going to be inside your house when you turn around? Candlelight dinner with an empty seat calling your name?

Before you get the chance to close the opening, a piece of paper finds its way slapped onto the middle of your face.

With dread, you tear the sheet off and hold it before your eyes, reading the text it has engraved into itself.

It's... an invitation? To a show, to be exact. The reading says,

"YOU, yes, YOU are invited to a one of a kind show!

Don't be late, as I’d be very upset if you were.

From your dearest jester. XoXo <3"

You feel a warmth in your dough from the heart included at the bottom of the sheet, almost tearing the paper just to rid of a feeling caused by him of all cookiekind. The weather here has to be the cause of your sickly feelings.

In any other situation, you would refuse without a second thought (that's what you tell yourself). But, Pure Vanilla is walking a path of danger, and you'll do what you can to change that for your friend.

Though, the candlelight dinner you expected to occur now comes as more preferable.

Looking further down, you notice the time the show host requests you arrive is a few five minutes away. He was kind enough to give you a step by step map to the location.

The short notice matters not, as you have nothing better to do. Spending all this time huddled up in a random shack is not what one would call time well spent.

Gathering yourself up, you take you and your crumbs out into the eerie outside of Beast-Yeast. With the map given, you follow the path, each step closer to meeting the volatile cookie of deceit.

It is nothing less of a short trip, arriving at an isolated place hidden by the trees, the wind brushing by to rustle the decaying leaves. There is no more than 10 seats placed in an organized manner in front of a puppet stage, even though you’re sure to be the sole cookie watching his upcoming act. Alongside the puppets he controls, of course.

Finished with taking in the environment, you walk towards your seat before a familiar voice stops you in your tracks.

"Well, well, well. Lookie who finally decided to show up!"

You turn your head, and your eyes meet. If you had fallen to his side long ago, you would say the sight of him takes your breath away. But that would be silly to even think about at the moment.

"...Shadow Milk Cookie."

"I know, I know, saying it never gets boring, amirite?" He chuckles, floating in his casual manner to give a little twirl.

"The STAR of the show has arrived! Oh, but am I talking about you, orrrr am I talking 'bout me?" Shadow Milk sends a small wink your way. It seems like now that reunions have passed, getting comfortable with you comes natural to him.

"We need to talk—"

"Now, now, take a seat. The crowd is trembling with excitement!" A selected puppet appears next to you, hand pushing you to your spot. A front seat right in the middle. Aren't you just the luckiest?

Even though more crucial topics could arise, Shadow Milk Cookie is determined to get his way, and you can do nothing but comply.

You should raise your weapon, to save cookies from his future plans. But that all comes to a stutter whenever you see his face; his very pretty face. Your gawking gets cut short when a spotlight is directed on the act before you.

"Once upon a time, there were two cookies. Two cookies who were veeeeery in love, might I add!" He stupidly makes the two puppets kiss, creating a few mwas for extra effect. The brainwashed cookies around all "aww."

If it were a cliche romance story between two unknown cookies, you would not have been bothered. But shown by the cutouts he made quite well, the two cookies in specifics were no other than you and Shadow Milk. Must he make this insufferable to sit through by bringing up feelings from the past?

"They were busy cookies, too. Like, all of the gnats around depended on them!" You dislike the use of the word gnats, your iced eyebrow furrowing.

"But oh dear! One day, a certain cookie got tired of the puny creatures. Never appreciative of what was given..." The cutout of Shadow Milk Cookie is seen with angry eyebrows. It's almost laughable.

"Soooo, Shadow Milk Cookie stopped helping out the doughbrains. All of those ungrateful cookies deserved to be crumbled instead!" His voice takes on a more passionate tone, cheers of agreement erupting from the tiny, feigned crowd.

"Shadow Milk Cookie tried to reveal to his beloved partner the deception in reality, but guess what?" You already anticipate his next words.

Your hands clench into fists; the memories of the exact scene he's portraying pouring through your head. Shadow Milk is not the lone cookie whose face comes to mind. The other beasts, whom you were close with, make an appearance too. Their faces of shock at your disloyalty still upset you to this day.

"HEY! Eyes up here, silly! I’m not done yet!" Shadow Milk Cookie snaps you back into attention. Making sure he has your full focus, which he adores, he continues on.

"Ehem. But then... [Name] Cookie BETRAYED ME! Yes, ME, out of all cookies! When I was so loving towards them!" The crowd of puppets gasp, mutters heard along themselves.

"Oh, the terror, the drama, the heartbreak—"

"Shadow Milk Cookie!" You interrupted his sob story, which is when you jumped out of your seat. Listening his narrative for any longer is not how you would describe optimal.

The jester releases giggles, storing away his puppet show with a poof. His dough in the air, Shadow Milk flies over to you.

"Wooow, big reactions from the crowd! Didja love it? I can tell you loved it." He bats his multicolored eyelashes at you, a twinkle of amusement shining in his eyes.

"Stop with your child's play. There are crucial subjects to speak of!"

"Mmmm, like what—Ooooh! Are you talking about that Soul Jam THIEF? Awwwh, are you offering to help me take em down, maybe? You are just the sweetes—"

"No. You need to stop what you plan for Pure Vanilla Cookie." Shadow Milk Cookie rolls his eyes at your heroic words, showing he dismisses your request.

"Ugh! Honey, are you really siding with HIM?" His tone suggests he believes he is in the right.

"Tsk, I know he'll ultimately turn into me, but why not have the original? HELLOOOO, I’m right here!" His hand waves in front of your face, as if trying to rope you back into reality.

"You'll bring Earthbread to ruins! Your Soul Jam was taken due to your own greed, Shadow Milk. Leave Pure Vanilla alone," you spoke with a stern tone, like it would ever leave an effect on the cookie floating before you.

"Oh, [Name] Cookie, how they've corrupted your sweet mind..." He looks into the gloomy sky, feigning a face of reminiscence.

"Hmmmmm, maybe, just maybe I'll listen to my dearest star if they apolooogizeeeed!" His words are nothing but lies, but fooling you at least once is his on his bucket list. It wouldn't hurt to give it another shot.

"...Apologize? For what?" Seems like your interest is peaked!

"For what?! There are many, many, maaaany things for you to grovel about, ya goof!" His face is just close enough to catch a whiff of his sweetly scented dough.

"But, I suppose for, y'know, not being there when I got out of that stupid tree!" He decided with a tilt of his head.

"What? I am not the one who sealed you in there, even though it was well deserved," you replied. Shadow Milk Cookie decided to ignore that last part.

"No, no, not that! Don'tcha know how sad I was when I got out of there?! I looked for your face between all those pathetic faeries, but you went GHOST!" He places his hand over his chest like the drama queen he is.

"How could my favorite cookie miss my revenance!" He cannot be serious, but deep down, you know he speaks with his crumbs included.

A simple sorry is all you have to say, and it isn't like losing a bit more of your dignity would hurt. For your fellow cookies, you tell yourself.

"Fine. I... apologize for missing out on your reappearance." Shadow Milk Cookie's façade of misery is gone in a snap, instead, a large, toothy grin covers his face.

"Now, you will leave Pure Vanilla Cookie with his Soul Jam intact, yes?"

"Ah, you don't know how long I've awaited to hear that come from your lips!" Ignoring your question entirely, Shadow Milk nuzzles his cheek against yours, similar to a cat. You yourself are unaware of why you failed to pull away.

"Shadow Milk Cookie," you repeated, as he decided to leave you unanswered. He huffs before giving you a proper response.

"Right, right. I'll leave Silly Vanilly alone, all because you're such a good cookie!" Most of you refuses to believe him, but for now, gratitude will be expressed on your side.

"Thank yo—"

"UNDER ONE CONDITION!" Witches. There never fails to be a "condition" with this cookie. You remained silent, waiting for his next words.

"I. Want. A. Kiss!" With each word, he positions himself even closer than he previously was, the blueberry aroma he carries wafting your way.

He is far from surprised when your mouth remains closed. You can get a little shy at times, he would say, when in truth, you really are just that incredulous.

"Earthbread to [Name] Cookie! Do I gotta repeat myself?" He laughs, finding your current expression to be hilarious.

Regaining your state of mind, you find yourself unsure of what to say. Of course, you should decline without a second thought. THE Shadow Milk of all cookies is asking you for a kiss! Who in their right mind would say yes?

Oh, but as the case may be, you were never in your right mind.

"I..."

"I, I, I." Shadow Milk Cookie mocks you, yet it's endearing in his own way.

"C’mon, you know you love me! After all, I can recall certain events that would deem us a bit more than the rivals you act like we are," he chirped, making your mental state even worse as the warmth of his hand lands atop your shoulder.

You want to rid of those memories, you've attempted! However, it is much simpler to say than to do when trying to erase experiences with the one cookie you have ever cherished.

This is why you keep your identity hidden, why no one is aware of the power you hold underneath. It would only lead to more questions of the beasts back then, and that leads to prying about Shadow Milk Cookie.

You will admit that your relationship with Shadow Milk was very different compared to now. He and you shared many tender memories. A couple instances were slightly too tender to label you pair as mere friends, but the both of you were put under too many responsibilities to ever have a chance to change close friends into something more.

However, that never eliminated the love floating in the air, and it surely didn't rid of the rushed kisses taking place in empty classrooms.

While memories from the past appear, feelings from back then aren't too far from showing up as well, and you are very knowing of what said feelings were in specifics. Arising emotions can go for both you and Shadow Milk Cookie, but facing that is mortifying.

The sudden movement of your hood being pulled away struck you back to life.

"Pssh, what good will this hood do? I want to see your entire lovely face when our lips meet!" Shadow Milk Cookie brought his levitating to a stop while you were distracted, standing right before you.

"Who do ya really think you’re hiding from in this old hood? Me? Hahaha, that's hilarious! Perhaps I ought to dress you in attire matching my own?" Your stomach feels heavy, and you hate the fact that you cannot discern whether it's with butterflies or dread. Maybe a mix of both.

"You must promise to not bring harm upon any cookie." Now you're making conditions, but you know you only say them to ease your conscience regarding your soon betrayal of the others. Asking the Cookie of Deceit to make a promise has a predictable conclusion.

"I've been trapped in that cursed tree for so long, deprived of touch I longed for from you! Must you make your beloved wait any longer?"

You can't. As pathetic as that sounds, you cannot leave the beast to wait. That being mentioned, you press your lips to his smooth ones, your partner squeaking from your bout of boldness.

Perhaps Pure Vanilla Cookie can find it in his dough to forgive you for your greed. He should come to know that Shadow Milk is a very manipulative cookie.

Or maybe you never put up much of a fight to begin with.

Shadow Milk melts into you afterwards, returning your kiss with more power than you gave. It's clear to see just how eager he was to have you back in his grasp.

His arms hold a tight grip around your neck, putting the entirety of his weight onto you, with one leg lifted into the air per usual. Repeatedly giving you small kisses afterward, Shadow Milk can't help but giggle.

Underneath, he's giddy at the fact he managed to slip under the walls you placed for him, which, if you asked him, such barriers should be nonexistent for him, your dear soon-to-be spouse.

Besides that, now he's certain to recruit you towards the livelier side of the beasts! You might've refused to call yourself such a term at first, but it was inevitable.

He can't wait to show you off to every cookie on Earthbread, to flaunt how you discovered the lies of the world and came into his loving embrace willingly. Your duo comeback will shake every crumb without a doubt.

Pure Vanilla Cookie's face will be priceless! With you here now, the finest performance he has ever hosted can only be awaited.

He hopes those doughbrains are prepared for a major plot twist.

[thanosspills]

A Night Out With "Team Thanos"

Synopsis: You and your new-found friends survived the games together after X's win the majority vote. Now that your roomies, a typical weekend with the group is cheering Thanos on at his show, getting wasted, and dancing at Nam-gyu's hot-spot club.

This is a continuation of my last team Thanos story! You can read it here (You don't need to read it to read this story, they're mainly just headcannons!)

Characters: Se-mi/player 380, Thanos/player 230, Nam-gyu/player 124, Min-su/player 125, Gyeong-su/player 256

Squid game au outside of the games, very light-hearted :) ...maybe

Reader is dating Thanos!

Warnings: drinking

"Hell no I'm not wearing that." Se-mi immediately shuts down your suggestion as she glares at the short black dress you picked out for her. "But you'd look so hot in it!" you argue. She rolls her eyes and fidgets with her lip ring, her go-to move when contemplating something. "Babe!" You hear Thanos shout from the bathroom. You throw the black dress at Se-mi and rush over to him.

Thanos is standing in front of the mirror looking defeated. "How the fuck do you get these to stick up?" Thanos gestures at his short pieces of hair on the sides of his head cut to look like horns. They sadly droop sideways, sticking out horizontally. You burst out a giggle, "Hey don't laugh! We have to go and I look stupid." He pouts. You compose yourself and grab the hair gel on the counter, "I'm sorry baby I'm sorry" You say, still holding in laughter. You stand on the tips of your toes to get a good angle on his head as he looms over you. You rub the gel into your fingers and run them through his purple strands of hair, pointing them upward and slightly curling them so they stay up just how he likes them. "There you go." You smile at Thanos, admiring how damn good he looks. You set the gel back down on the counter, Thanos's eyes locked on you. He grabs your wrist and pulls you back toward him. He places his other hand on your waist, moving it down to your ass as he pulls you into a deep, prolonged kiss. It was his way of saying thank you, and god you liked that so much more then the words.

"You're gonna be late to your own damn show if you don't hurry." Se-mi interrupts standing at the doorway with Min-su and Gyeong-su next to her. She's wearing the dress you gave her, her arms crossed uncomfortably. "Yo, Thanos looking fly my bro!" Gyeong-su excitedly shouts, doing little finger horns above his head. Thanos grins and dabs Gyeong-su up, before shouting "LET'S GOOO!" as he jumps through the living room toward the front door. You smile at Se-mi, "Look at youuu!" you tease. She chuckles and playfully nudges you, "Shut up." You turn back toward Min-su, asking, "What do you think?" Min-su shyly smiles and looks at the ground. "She looks good.."

Thanos dabs up the bouncer as you and the group walk into the club, his arm draped around your shoulder. Nam-gyu spots you guys and marches over to Thanos, "There you are! Fuck, dude you were almost late again." Thanos grins, "Chill bro, the fans love me they don't mind waiting." Thanos turns to you and dramatically kisses the top of your head, "See you on stage, senõrita!' He skips away and Nam-gyu angrily speeds up to catch up with him.

Thanos's presence takes over the entire club, everyone was chanting and jumping up and down to each song. After the games, Thanos used his money to up the production of his music and found his footing again as a rapper. His success skyrocketed, giving his career a second life. He honestly didn't need to play at a club, but he enjoys the personality of a local crowd and likes bringing attention to Nam-gyu's work. You and Gyeong-su are jumping up and down, rapping Thanos's lyrics at each other. Gyeong-su had been to so many of his concerts before the games he was better at keeping up, which you were slightly jealous of. He always teased you about being a bigger fan. Se-mi swayed and sipped on her drink as Nam-gyu was forcefully gripping Min-su's shoulders from behind and shaking him to the song.

Thanos blew the crowd an animated kiss and ran backstage, immediately swallowing you with a big hug. He peppered your face in kisses, the adrenaline of performing still pumping through his body. He would always say his two favorite drugs were you and the stage. Gyeong-su ran up to you guys, drunkenly bouncing up and down "BRO THAT WAS FUCKING WILD! YOU WERE A BEAST UP THERE!"

"SHOTS FOR THE V.I.PS!" The bartender poured up two shots for each of you, everyone clinked glasses and threw them back. Min-su always coughed and gagged after each one, and Nam-gyu always gave him a hard time for it. Nights like these made everyone forget the games ever existed. You guys weren't drinking to forget, you were all just friends, making memories to help combat the brutality you collectively witnessed. It's what made you guys so close. The tension between the group in the games quickly decimated once you guys made it out and agreed to stick together.

You were feeling the looseness and euphoria the alcohol gave you, Gyeong-su darted toward the dance floor as one of his favorite rap songs started playing. Se-mi, Nam-gyu and Min-su followed. Thanos stood up, "Come on senõrita let's dance!" He shouted. You giggled, "Okay, okay hang on!" You quickly grab what's left of your drink and down it. You turn toward the bar top to set it back down, and your heart drops at the sight of something you swear wasn't there a second ago. A brown paper business card laid flat on the counter. Sharp, agonizing memories flood back to you. It was exactly how you remembered it, despite you trying so hard to forget all of it. You pick it up with shaky hands. A circle, a triangle, and a square decorated the top. How the fuck was this possible? You turn it over, reading the familiar digits. "456-034"

I saw a couple people asking for more so heres a part two :)) Sorry this ones kinda short. I love writing for team Thanos so much let me know what you think!!

[bubbleggum444]

—❝𐌋ITTLE MIƧƧ AC𝚃IVIST!❞

contents damian wayne x fem!reader, new hero!reader au, fluff + angst (n comfort), 3k+ wc. synopsis he knows all too well what it is like to feel like you don't fit it.

This felt so... wrong. Everything and everyone around ___ was just so frustrating, so difficult to deal with.

She had been an activist for as long as she could remember, fighting for what she believed in. But everything changed when she became a hero.

For better or worse? She wasn’t sure. No—oh great, Starfire just burned another tree down. Just perfect. Yeah, definitely worse.

Time and time again, this path hurt. It pulled at her, tore at her, like two different people were fighting for control inside her body.

One part of her—the old her—was someone who spent hours protesting, climbing trees to protect them, boycotting inhumane brands, and helping the vulnerable.

The other—the hero—was someone who saw, day in and day out, just how much destruction heroes left behind in their wake.

She knew her thoughts must have been tiring to others. Maybe even annoying. But she didn’t care. They weren’t her, and she wasn’t them. No one had the right to tell her how to feel about this.

Still, she could only bite her tongue for so long.

During a mission, Beast Boy casually tossed a used water bottle onto the street.

She hesitated, not wanting to sound like a nag. So instead, she simply picked it up, intending to throw it in a trash can.

Then she heard Garfield chuckle.

"Are you our new teammate or the trashman, newbie?"

Ouch.

Even the other Titans fell silent at the remark.

Her fingers clenched around the plastic, her vision burning. She didn’t dare look at any of them. She was too close to breaking.

So she walked away.

She hadn’t planned to. It was an impulsive decision, but that was who she was—rash, reactive. Always ready to act against injustice, even before becoming a hero.

She kept walking until she reached a park bench and collapsed onto it. The moment she was alone, the tears came. She hated this—hated feeling weak, hated that everything was finally catching up to her. The pressure of expectations, the weight of two halves of herself pulling in opposite directions.

It felt suffocating.

Like the disappointment she had seen in her parents’ eyes when she struggled to balance school and activism. The kind of disappointment that didn’t hurt physically but cut so much deeper.

A shiver ran down her spine as something cold wrapped around her from behind.

Whack!

On instinct, she swung back, landing a solid smack on whoever had just grabbed her.

"Damian?!" Her eyes widened.

"Oh my God, I’m so—"

"No, I deserved that," he admitted, rubbing his arm. "I came after you... I just didn’t know how to approach you."

Her chest tightened.

She hadn’t expected anyone to follow her. Least of all Damian.

She couldn’t stop the fresh wave of tears that spilled over, but this time, he was ready. He pulled her into another hug, and she let herself sink into it, gripping onto him like she might fall apart otherwise.

"There’s nothing wrong with being someone who picks up trash," she mumbled, voice still thick with emotion.

"That’s a decent, respectable job."

Damian huffed a small laugh.

"That’s not funny—"

"I know."

He tilted her chin up, his touch uncharacteristically gentle. His green eyes searched hers, steady and unreadable.

"I’ve noticed how much you’ve been pushing yourself, ___," he murmured.

"Stepping out of your comfort zone. Going against things you once believed in."

His hand brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary.She held his gaze, her breath catching.

"It’s admirable," he continued, voice softer now. "And... I understand more than you think."

She swallowed hard.

She barely knew Damian. Out of all the Titans, he was the most closed off.

Yet here he was. In a park. In the middle of the night. Holding her. Comforting her.

Was it always this warm at this time of year?

Her voice wavered slightly when she spoke. "Meaning...?"

He exhaled, thumb brushing over her cheek like he was afraid she might break.

"Meaning I’ve been where you are," he admitted. "I know what it’s like to feel like an outsider. To think that no matter what you do, you’ll never truly fit in."

His voice dipped lower, carrying something raw beneath it.

"And it hurt deeply. I rejected those who tried to help me because they were different, yet I embraced the pain from others simply because they were my familiars."

The air between them felt heavy—not with awkwardness, but with something deeper. It was as if their hearts had silently intertwined, speaking in a language beyond words. The weight of unspoken emotions filled the space between them, their rapid beats echoing a conversation only they could understand.

She felt it. The way her heartbeat stumbled, the way something in her chest tightened painfully.

And she could feel his too. Beating, racing—just like hers.

The silence between them was fragile, delicate, like the moment might shatter if either of them spoke.

With one arm dropping to his side, the other wraps itself around her shoulder in a gentle side hug.

"Let’s go get some dumplings," he murmured. "There’s a Chinatown nearby. The vendors stay open late."

Slowly, she let herself relax against him, nodding.

"Okay," she whispered. "Let’s get some pho."

As they walked along the cobblestone streets, ___ let out a quiet giggle.

His cheeks kind of look like dumplings…

She bit her lip to suppress her laughter, but Damian caught it anyway.

His gaze flickered toward her. "What’s so funny?"

She shook her head, smiling to herself.

"Nothing," she said softly. "I’m just really excited for the food."

Damian narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. But he let it go, walking just a little closer to her as they made their way down the dimly lit street.

And for the first time in a long time, ___ felt like maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t so alone after all.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

© — ggυɱi '25

likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated

ദ്ദി ≽^⎚˕⎚^≼ .ᐟ

alsooo BB would NEVA be like this. I just needed a "bag guy" for the story :)👌🏻

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

#feel like you would have a wild story to contribute on this

you would be correct

I also worked at a Lifeline and boy I wish my story was this wholesome but alas mine is instead hilarious

I come in one day, sorting the dvds as usual and my supervisor brings me a large box of items wondering what on earth they could possibly be, and as I am a fountain of knowledge for weird trivia she thought I was the best person to ask

my friends

I knew I was in for a ride when she pulls out of this box a flogger and paddle

next thing I know I'm looking my mild mannered middle aged supervisor in the eye and explaining to her what a spreader bar is

so of course I say 'there is no way in hell we can put these out the front without people knowing exactly what they are and possibly being scandalised and also even though this all looks very clean and well maintained (just a little dusty) they might technically be a biohazard'

she says something along the lines of 'this stuff looks like it might be expensive though, this might even be real leather, should we really just throw it out?'

none of the staff in the store, understandably, want to take it, but also we really really could not sell it, but also it was some well looked after good quality gear, the leather cuffs didn't even look worn down so if it had been used it hadn't been used often and by the state of the dust probably not for a very long time, I agreed it would be a waste to throw it out

so I say 'hypothetically if I had a friend who might be into this could we sell it to them on the downlow and have them come in through the back way to pick it up?'

and she said 'that would be great actually'

and so I message my freakiest bestie with 'hypothetically if I had some second hand bondage gear that desperately needed a home would you be willing to sneak into the back of a store to stealth buy it?'

and they said 'absolutely yes I would'

so 20min later they come sauntering in through the back and net themselves some pretty damn good quality hardly used bondage gear at an absolute steal in respect to the fact that they would need to clean and disinfect it all themselves

I have no idea what could possibly have happened to that gear had I not happened to have a very kinky friend on hand, it probably would have either ended up in a bin or shoved in a box for my manager to deal with in whatever way she deemed appropriate

but now I can very confidently say it has found a very loving home

and I am now excitedly informed every time they get the chance to use it

[atzloverr]

(Don’t) sing to me - Siren!Seonghwa x reader

pairings: Siren!Seonghwa x pirate!reader

warnings: Siren!Seonghwa, cunnilingus, emotional manipulation, hypnosis, non-con, afab!reader, slight yandere, mentions of blood and gore, purely fiction, captivity, kidnapping, why is Seonghwa always pussy drunk in these

minors DNI

You threw your head around, panic fogging your mind. The only thing you saw was the blood, the dead bodies, the open wound on your own thigh.

You couldn’t tell if it was the loss of blood or the sheer weight of the situation that made you so dizzy that you could barely walk straight when you tried to make it to the safe place of the ship. You saw your captain, lying bloody, trying to reach out for you, but you had to look away.

In these situations, you had to save yourself, you knew that. That’s why you felt so stupid when you turned around to help the poor man.

You had never planned to become a pirate, but when you were abandoned and the crew seemed to find you right when you needed them most, you couldn’t help but accept the offer.

When things like this would happen, you almost regretted your decision. Although you had been in these situations before, it had never been this brutal. You mourned the men you had lost so far, but you feared the amount of men lost in this raid would be double the amount you had in your entire life on this ship.

You tried to keep yourself focused on the task at hand, keeping your captain alive. Hongjoong had always told you that we lived in a cruel world, and the most important thing was always going to be to save yourself. That might’ve been the reason for him silently fighting you when you tried to dress his deep wounds.

He couldn’t even utter a word, but his eyes said it all. Save yourself, or you will get us both killed.

But you ignored him, and kept trying to stop his bleeding, wincing when you felt your own wound sting.

You managed to somewhat stop the bleeding, before dragging him to the safe room. He wasn’t heavy, but with your current injuries, pulling his body felt like the hardest mission you had ever encountered.

You were more than happy to find other people in the room, although they were all injured. Well, all except one. The one person everyone had to keep alive: the doctor.

Yunho ran up to you with his eyebrows furrowed, looking you up and down as you collapsed on the floor, leaning against the wall. You watched as someone else carefully picked up Hongjoong, bringing him to safety.

”Are you crazy?” Yunho asked, grabbing your face harshly to get your attention. You looked down, but felt too tired to even apologize. You knew he was thankful, whether he would admit it or not. Everyone knew that Hongjoong was the most important person on this ship, and anyone would’ve gladly sacrificed you to keep him alive, they just didn’t want to admit it.

You watched as Yunho used his medical tools, your vision slowly getting darker as you leaned your head against the wall, that almost seemed like a soft pillow right now.

”Hey!” Yunho suddenly slapped you lightly on your cheek. ”You need to stay awake, you hear me!?” he said. You felt warm in your chest when you saw the worry in his eyes. It felt nice to know that someone wanted to keep you alive.

You slowly nodded at his earlier question. ”You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Yunho said, probably just talking to keep you from falling asleep. ”Listen, you have to stay strong.”

You listened to him as he took your hand in his. ”They’re still lurking around here, and we have to make sure that we can go up against them,” he informed.

Right, you thought. The only reason he’s keeping you alive is so you can fight, so you can keep everyone safe, keep Hongjoong safe. You frowned, but the moment was interrupted by the sound of a harsh bang on the door.

The room froze, everyone’s eyes flying towards the door. You saw the large axe that had managed to get through the thick door, and it was like you knew. You knew that this was it, you were going to die.

You were all going to die.

You felt Yunho’s arms pick you up, making you wince quietly in pain as you were reminded of the big wound on your leg. Another bang was heard, this time with the sound of loud male voices.

There were more of them now. You desperately wanted to stay strong, but you couldn’t even stop your eyes from watering in fear when you heard the third and last bang before the door fell to the floor.

You watched the countless armed men fill the room, slaughtering the already weak people. Yunho quickly put you on your feet again, but you could barely even stand. You watched in panic as Yunho did what you should’ve probably expected him to.

He went to Hongjoong.

You couldn’t help but feel an ounce of betrayal. Yunho had been the first person you ever really made friends with on this ship, so seeing him so effortlessly pick Hongjoong over you, it hurt.

You grabbed your knife, fiercly trying to get through the crowd of people, but it was terrifying. You heard the most gut wrenching screams from your crew members, saw blood splattering out of another pirate’s chest as you stabbed him without mercy.

But you never stopped moving. You never stopped moving until you saw an opening. You decided that this was going to be the time when you really took Hongjoong’s advice, so you saved yourself.

You ran out on deck, even as your wound reopened and you screamed louder than ever before, you knew what you had to do.

Sure, the water would be cold, sure, you would leave your entire crew when you might’ve been able to fight more for them, but you didn’t care. You simply saved yourself.

And if you were going to die - which it felt like when the ice-cold water met your skin and its salt seeped into your wound - you were at least going to die here, not by some ruthless pirate stabbing you to death.

You swam and swam, but noticed that you hadn’t even gotten very far. You felt your legs starting to give out, your head getting foggier and foggier for every second, until your body finally started sinking down.

You didn’t fight it, you didn’t scream. You let yourself succumb to the sweetness of death, and right before the darkness came, you heard the sound of a beautiful song, almost hypnotic. You were satisfied that the last thing you would hear before you finally died would be this angelic voice, soft enough to finally allow you to let go of the tiny bit of hope that you had tried so hard to hold on to.

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°

The moment he laid his eyes on your face, he knew you were the perfect prey. As you finally stopped resisting him, finally accepting your fate, he knew you were going to be perfect.

His turquoise fins shimmered in the moonlight, enough to make any sailor turn his head.

He watched as your chest slowly rose and fell, smiling at the fact that his magic had worked, even when he feared it was too late. His fingers traced your lips - that were starting to turn blue from the immense cold - and he made sure his long fingernails didn’t graze your fragile skin.

In the long hours of silently observing you, Seonghwa thought to himself that he had learned so much about you from simply looking at your sleeping form.

The harsh skin of your palms, slightly burned from having handled rope on the ship, the dangling jewelry hanging from your pierced ears, and the thing that made him whimper in worry: a large wound on your thigh, so filthy and deep that it made him wince.

He knew his healing could work to some extent, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to handle this. But that’s what he spent the rest of your unconscious hours on. Trying to heal you completely.

He used his precious saliva to clean your wound carefully, its powers slowly healing the injury. He continued his sweet singing, keeping you lulled in a peaceful sleep.

But now that he had healed you best to his abilities, he just lay there next to you in his small cave, watching you peacefully rest.

As much as he adored watching you, he couldn’t help but feel worried. Why weren’t you waking up? Hadn’t his magic worked properly?

He tried shaking you, tickling you, pinching you, and his favorite method - kissing you awake. But none of it seemed to work.

To Seonghwa, it felt as if several days had passed since he found you by the ship, but in reality, it might’ve not been more than one.

Due to his concerns, he always stayed by your side, dipping into the water ever so often to hydrate his fins, but soon returned to slowly run his long nails through your wet and salty hair, watching your expression closely, begging for you to wake up.

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡°

You acknowledged the fact that you were aware, that you were still feeling things, experiencing things. And although you would’ve been ecstatic about it at any other given moment, considering you were sure you had died, you couldn’t help but feel tired.

Hadn’t you accepted the fact that you were dead? You felt as if you had welcomed death with open arms when you felt the sharp pain of the water entering your lungs, so why were you still here.

You couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear, but you could think. You tried to sense your surroundings, but your mind seemed to have left your body.

You paused mentally. Was this the true nature of death? Was there really an afterlife? Had all of those sayings about souls been real?

Your mind felt like it spun around, the confusion growing inside of you. That was, until you heard a sound.

It was that beautiful sound that you had heard right before you lost consciousness. That voice, as if the notes it sang were engraved in silver.

You heard the sweet humming, making your head feel fuzzy. Why were you so drawn to it? Why was it so desperately trying to pull you out of your slumber?

The second time you were aware, you felt a new sensation enter your system. You tried to squirm, but then remembered that you couldn’t control your body - did you even have one anymore? Were these all just hallucinations? Or was the sensation of cold lips exploring your neck real?

For every time you regained consciousness, the sensations grew stronger. You could hear sounds clearly, feel the outline of a hand against your skin, but you couldn’t move to touch it.

Until one time, when you could.

Your eyes opened, and it was as if all the senses you had missed out on, now came crashing down on you. You felt the sharp pain in your thigh as you moved, felt the gnawing hunger in your stomach, and the cold air hitting your wet skin.

The creature in front of you seemed to notice your discomfort, even though you couldn’t utter a word. He quickly ran his tongue up and down your neck, clicking and humming lowly as you squirmed around in his hold.

Your eyes traveled down, and widened in fear as they did so. The wound on your leg was barely visible anymore, and the most chocking thing of all, was the blue and green glowing light radiating off of the man in front of you. Off of his fins.

You found the energy to move away from him, your arms slowly scooting you towards the cave wall. You watched as his face contorted into a large frown, his body inching closer towards you right away.

You retreated your head from his hands as he tried to hold you, but did it to no avail. His hands grabbed your face, and you shrieked when you felt the large nails against your skin, but he only whined as you shook your head.

”No,” he said, and you could tell this wasn’t his mother’s tongue. Your eyes clenched shut in fear when his face inched closer to yours, and you didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this.

You felt his mouth against yours, his long tongue entering your mouth without your permission, but even when you wanted to hate it, the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, the sound of the peaceful humming as he licked and kissed, it made you relax.

His lips traveled down your neck, his tongue slightly warming you up in the shivering state you were in, as he continued singing. You felt your eyes rolling back into your skull, and noticed how you weren’t fighting back anymore.

The only thing you could do was stare at his beauty as he continued running his hands up and down your cold legs, his eyes looking deep into yours.

”My human,” he smiled in between his hums, his head traveling lower down your body until he was slowly kissing your stomach.

He lifted the fabric of your blouse that hadn’t fully dried yet due to the humidity of the air in the cave you were in. You closed your eyes when he slowly started unbuttoning your shorts, his voice feeling like silk in your ears. The part of you that so desperately wanted to fight back wasn’t even there anymore. You could only feel the bliss and relaxation of the moment, but you couldn’t understand why.

Your eyes opened again when you felt your shorts slowly sliding off of your body. You would’ve winced at the feelings of his sharp nails grazing your thighs, but you didn’t. It was like almost everything that you would react strongly to otherwise, you now didn’t mind at all.

Hence the reason for your drawn out moan when the creature slowly spread your thighs apart, looking in between your legs with lustful and hungry eyes.

You blinked when he stopped singing, and even after only a second had passed, you already missed the feeling of his voice in your ears. You watched in anticipation as he slowly trailed kisses up your thighs, sucking slightly and making you shiver with excitement.

”So beautiful,” you heard him say, but you felt as if you weren’t fully conscious anymore. It was the same feeling that you had right before you had woken up, when you could almost grasp everything that was going on, but not really.

You almost felt as if you were going to pass out before your breath caught in your throat, making you avert your attention towards the man in between your legs.

You moaned when you felt his long tongue exploring you, the softness and coolness of it foreign to you. It was almost overwhelming when his tongue entered your hole, making your head shoot up in chock.

He immediately took your hand in his, interlocking your fingers with his, making you gasp at the feelings of his webbed fingers and long nails against your human hands.

His tongue curled inside of you, exploring your insides as he lewdly slurped up your juices. You exhaled deeply when he retreated his tongue, your grip on his hand loosening, only to harden again when the long muscle found your clit.

You felt your legs unconsciously spreading wider for him, giving him more access to where he wanted to lick and suck. He licked a long stipe up your pussy before retreating his head with a satisfied sigh.

You looked at his parted lips, wet and plump, and felt your desperation grow. ”Please,” you whined out, slightly raising your hips towards his face.

He smiled in surprise, but obeyed your wish with a small hum. You almost cried out when you felt him against you once again, working quick and skillful patterns against you, like nothing you had ever experienced before.

You slowly felt your climax starting to build inside of you, your thighs starting to clench around his head, when you suddenly felt a realization hit you.

Who was he?

You looked down at his eyes - that were rolled back in bliss - and thought of his identity. You thought of how you ended up here, the scar on your thigh. How did you get that?

And suddenly, everything came back to you.

You immediately let go of his hand and crawled away from him as you realized the situation. You didn’t know him, and you never wanted any of this.

You saw the anger in his eyes as you backed into a wall, making yourself smaller by hugging your knees to your chest. But beyond that anger was also a strong worry. You saw the way his eyebrows furrowed as you backed away, and now, you saw the way he slowly made his way towards you.

”What are you doing to me?” you asked, your heartbeat pounding faster as you recalled everything that had happened, and the way you hadn’t even tried to stop any of it.

”Shhh,” you heard, but you just flinched when he tried to reach out for you with his hand. ”No,” he said, like a mother denying a child something.

You kept backing away, until you realized that you had nowhere to go. This small cave was only connected to the water, and with your current state, you probably couldn’t even swim a few feet.

You froze when you heard a sound in your ears again. It was that song again, the one you knew you had heard before, but couldn’t understand when or where. Your head snapped towards him as he looked at you with glowing eyes, his mouth open as he sang those beautiful notes.

It was such a strong pull, such a beautiful melody, that your body slowly seemed to give in to it once again. And although you realized that this was what kept you from denying his touches, from trying to escape, you were way too far gone to do anything about that.

You slowly let him pull you to the cave’s edge, his body submerging into the water. You watched as he spread your legs, your calved dangling off the edge and into the cold water.

This time, when he dove back in between your legs, he never stopped humming his song. You were reminded of how close you had gotten before he stopped, and felt your excitement build up quickly once more.

His hums sent vibrations up your body, making you grip his hair desperately. His nails slightly dug into your waist, making you moan as pain mixed with pleasure. You watched as his tail splashed into the water slightly, moving quicker the closer you got.

”Give in, human,” he said before continuing to flick your clit, making you throw your head back. And those words was what made you let go completely, and come undone in his arms.

You heard your own moans and his singing echo in the walls of the cave, and when he slowly pulled you up to lay down on the stone, you had long forgotten the worries in your mind.

Yunho and Hongjoong didn’t cross your mind - the fact that you were being emotionally manipulated by an unknown creature with beautiful fins and hypnotizing eyes didn’t bother you. Of course, that was no coincidence.

Seonghwa had to make sure he was the only thing on your mind when you finally fell asleep to his sweet lullaby once again. And when he slowly cradled you in his arms, tenderly brushing your hair out of your face, he knew he had to keep it that way forever.

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