#author can be very 'time blind' unfortunately!...

[gotham-daydreams]

How are you?

Busy, unfortunately!! Started college not too long ago, and all that - won't bore anyone with the details, though!! Sorry if I worried anyone with all the silence - I didn't even realize how long it's been! Wow!

Few things!!

1. HOLY HELL WE'RE AT 3K FOLLOWERS???? ALREADY???

I'VE BEEN TRYING TO CATCH UP AND COME UP WITH SPECIALS BUT OH MY GOD... There are so many of you!! And you all come in so fast!! It actually breaks my heart a little only because I haven't shown my best yet (or definitely feel like I haven't), which will definitely change! You guys deserve so much better! Though I'm still unsure what to do for specials... so ideas would be nice! I'd like to also do some late ones- since you guys 100% deserve it, and they're still milestones!! Though for 3k, I'll do something in the spirit of Halloween!... or fall if I'm late again- 😅

Regardless! I'm so happy for all the support!! It really is something that so many people see my posts, no matter how old, and interact with them! It's overwhelming, honestly, but I deeply appreciate it! Even more so when I have a habit of going to get the milk for a while, before coming back with a few cookies - LOL!

2. I've been seeing that my work has inspired a lot of people to make their own stuff, and it's super endearing and heartwarming!!! Really, even if I don't really comment and only interact with the posts on my main account, I still see them! And I love them!!! I'm honestly really surprised how much the Not [ ] Series has inspired others or served as inspiration for their work. It baffles me but I'm also really glad I was able to do that for someone! It's still insane, especially since I really don't see the series as my best work by a long shot, but I do still really admire and appreciate how people still took inspiration from it :]

To which, yes! I do read all of the works people tag me in LOL! I may not say much! But I do see it!! You're all amazing writers and I can't wait to see what you all make in the future!!

3. I will definitely try to catch up on asks! There have been a lot of them - which I'm very happy to see! So now that I have some time, I'll start to tackle them! I have a break coming up, so if not now, then definitely then! So, soon!

4. YES. CHAPTER 4 IS IN THE WORKS!! I doubt it'll be longer than 3 - I learned a lot during that, and I plan to not repeat my mistakes and take what I've learned. Though we'll see how it goes in actual execution!! I already forget what I've said on that end, and thanks to time I have made a few adjustments to the original plan, though the ending remains the same! Very... eventful!!

5. I AM TRYING TO GET A NEW SERIES OUT!! Because damn it do you guys deserve some quality on this blog!!! I'm not the best writer, obviously, but again, the Not [ ] is a farcry from what I can really produce, and even if I view it as a taste of what's to come - still!! Been also thinking of making it one of the romantic stories I had planned (seeing as a lot of platonic stuff has come out, which is cute!), but we'll see! 'Waiting' Reader has been on my mind... I'll say that much! Though maybe don't hold your breath...?

Overall, a little tired as usual, but glad to be back, and really kick start writing again! 💛... I say, at 5:30 am, like every great author!

[seventeenreasonswhy]

SVT reacts to your toxic ex at a party!

OT13!Seventeen with GN!Reader

Warnings/Content: SFW! Light angst, some fluff-ish/sweet comforting, but also some members choose violence!, nonconsensual advances/touching from Y/N's ex! 😠

Situation: You're at a house party with your (relatively) new partner, <SVT member>, and you unfortunately run into your toxic ex. Things didn't end smoothly, and so many awful things that you brushed off while you were together have flooded into your mind since the breakup, filling you with resentment towards them and (misplaced) anger at yourself.

But tonight, to keep the drama to a minimum, you end up putting on a brave face and avoiding your ex for most of the night. But... eventually they get really wasted and approach you while you're waiting for the bathroom by yourself...

Situation, cont.: Your annoying, drunk ex loudly complains about your breakup and how much they miss you... The whole interaction makes you uncomfortable, so you try to deescalate the situation and exit the conversation... But they drunkenly grope you!

You push them away, fully angry now, but they are persistent! After a minute, you start feeling genuinely violated. This obviously enrages and upsets you! You push the problematic ex away with more force, your night now totally derailed. Thankfully you manage to get away from them.

All you want is to leave the party, but you can't even think straight. You don't want there to be too much of a scene, so in your flustered state, you just head toward the door. But your new partner <SVT member> notices you heading out visibly upset and...

Author's Note: This is so K-drama haha! But I just love thinking about protective Seventeen lol! 🤷‍♀️

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Seungcheol

sees red. needs to find the asshole right away. he starts charging off in a blind rage, until you physically get in his path and tell him that the best thing he can do is get you outta there. he takes a second to calm down, but once he realizes that you're as upset as you are, he becomes totally focused on making sure you're ok, and his anger fizzles away. (he hates that son of a bitch tho.)

Jeonghan

gets visibly angry, which you've never seen before. he takes a sharp breath in through his nose, looking away from you for a moment and cursing your ex under his breath. He composes himself quickly though and asks if you're ready to get out of there, and you are so relieved that you cry some more. he wipes the tears from your face and gives you a sweet kiss on the cheek, silently putting his arm around you and guiding you toward the door.

Jisoo

is very upset! he knows that that asshole is simply being pathetic— desperate for your attention even though they treated you like shit. what the fuck is wrong with them? these are thoughts that jisoo has the tact to keep to himself until you are in the car on the way back to his place. he'll put on a cozy movie and cuddle you until you forget all about that loser.

Junhui

is pissed! he's silent but you can feel his energy change! you quickly tell him that you want to get out of there before he has time to really process what you told him, and before you know it he's driving you to his place. it all hits him in the car and he can't stop yelling "that fucking son of a bitch!" which you find... kind of cute.

Soonyoung

is very drunk!!! haha sweet tiger loves to party. and he can't hide his true feelings when he's this drunk to save his life. he immediately yells out your ex's name, with a serious growl of "where the fuck are you?" he turns some heads, and it takes you, DK and Mingyu to hold him back from beating the shit out of this asshole. It takes a long time for him to calm down. He is screaming nasty mean shit at your ex the whole time! you feel kind of embarassed about the whole scene, but deep down you're flattered that soonyoung would get so defensive on your behalf.

Wonwoo

silent and seething. he listens as calmly as he can, gently brushing tears from your face, holding your face between his hands. he whispers to you sweetly, asking you if you want him to drive you home and you just nod and drop your forehead against his chest. he takes you in his arms and guides you out the door. in the car, he holds your hand reassuringly as he drives, letting you vent about this jackass as much as you need. in his head, he is imagining the world of pain he would inflict on this ex of yours for making you shed even a single tear!

Jihoon

wants to throw hands! but won't because he knows that that would just upset you more. he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and asks if you want to get out of there. you nod and he smoothly grabs his keys in one hand while lacing his fingers with yours in his other hand, guiding you to his car where he puts on your favorite music as you drive to his place. he doesn't pressure you to do or say anything, just gets the couch cozy and starts making you some late night snacks. (acts of service king right here).

Minghao

is very upset! actually he's disgusted by your ex's behavior. as he listens to you tell him what happened, he can tell that you're holding back tears. he hates to see you so upset! he can't help but look around the room, trying to find your ex. At the very least this asshole needs to be put in their place. but, you pull at his arm and he sees you looking so frustrated and embarrassed that he can't help but get the message. he wraps his arm around you and guides you to the door, watching you for any signal of what you want to do next.

Mingyu

he's so upset that someone would disrespect your boundaries like that! as he rubs your back comfortingly, he asks you what you want to do. stay, go for a walk and come back, or just leave? he'll do whatever you feel like doing, but you're so upset that you hesitate to decide. after a few beats, he runs a hand through your hair sweetly and makes the executive decision to take you home and get you ice cream on the way.

Seokmin

He's so angry! like seriously so mad that this person dared to touch you. he keeps his emotions (relatively) in check tho, because he doesn't want to upset you any further. he looks at you all worried, and then takes you in his arms. "I just want to go," you say tearfully into his chest. "Done," and he takes your hand and leads you to the car - opening every door, putting on good music, and making sure you don't have to even lift a finger for the rest of the night.

Seungkwan

smoke is coming out of his ears! he's seeing red and nothing but red! will choose violence before you can stop him! the other members have to pull him off of your ex! his actions don't really make you less upset, but he is so mad on your behalf that you're kind of touched? you guys talk about it more seriously once he calms down and he apologizes for losing it. "I can't believe they would do that to you," he grumbles in the car. "I know," you say, and he looks at you so lovingly despite his anger that you realize how safe you feel with him.

Vernon

kind of outraged, tbh. he can’t believe this guy would do something so immature and rude. he looks at you like he is really feeling in pain for you, and ends up being very soft because he hates seeing you upset. he doesn’t say many words, but he holds you and whispers in your ear that it’s fine if you want to leave, he’ll take you anywhere you want.

Chan

He's so furious! he can’t hide how mad he is! but he tries to get it together because he doesn’t want you to think that he’s angry at you. he awkwardly trips over his words because he’s so worked up, but once you put a hand on his chest and tell him that you just want to leave, he practically carries you princess-style to the car.

[biteofcherry]

Morning menace

alpha!Steve Rogers x omega female reader

warnings: none; unless we count early morning (basically night) rudeness

Author's Note: This is a short, silly thing inspired by my own "eagerness" to get up in the morning 😂 Shout out to the always amazing @buckets-and-trees, who often has to hear my grumpiness in the wee hours 😆

Grain of Truth Masterlist

Main Masterlist

There’s an annoying beeping sound that spears through the sweet, comfy clouds of slumber and you clench your eyelids shut harder, hoping that some bird of prey would swoop in and swallow that shrilling monster. 

Your pillow moves, adding to the growing annoyance as your subconsciousness tries the hardest to hold onto sleep. 

Finally, that irritating sound ceases, but your pillow continues to slip away. 

So you tighten your grip on it and move your leg further around the wide, hard breadth of it; clutching it both with your arm and your thighs. 

“Come on, babe,” a raspy, deeply masculine voice enters your sleep. 

The sound of it is very pleasant, making you hum in delight and snuggle into the warm pillow. Unfortunately, his words are far from what you want to hear.

“It’s time to get up.” 

“No.” Your reply comes instantly, your nose scrunching up in detestation. 

A low chuckle follows your refusal. Then an arm, which was cradling your back, moves along your spine. A big, strong hand gently grips the back of your neck; his thumb rubbing up and down. 

“I’m afraid it really is. We need to leave in an hour.” 

“No leaving. Staying. An’ sleepin’.” You grumble and though your eyes are still closed and your mind is keeping you halfway submerged in sleep, you recognize that the pillow you’re partially draped over is in fact your Alpha. 

To emphasize your stance on getting up, you roll your body fully on top of him. With a huff, you press your head under his chin and twine your limbs around his massive body. 

“I know you hate early mornings, Sweet Brat.” Steve laughs, palming your naked ass with his free hand. “But we’re about to go for vacation, if you remember. Two weeks away. And then you can sleep even till noon. But to get there, we agreed to leave early.” 

“I would never agree to such idiotic idea.” You protest, growing more annoyed as your sleep starts to truly fade away the longer you continue conversation with the very rude Alpha. 

Steve only snorts. Then attempts to move. To which you respond by clinging harder and giving a small, displeased whine. 

The way he instinctively gives a short purr to soothe you has your lips curving in a smile and your cheek pressing against his sternum. 

“Ten more minutes,” Steve sighs. “I’ll start a breakfast for us. But not a second longer, grumpy brat.”

You whine again, more petulantly this time, as Steve manages to gently roll away from under you. Your body sinks into the warm spot on the mattress that’s soaked with your mate’s scent. 

You instantly bury your nose into it, your body dropping back into a fully relaxed state, so eager to trott back into the dreamland. 

“What kind of vacation requires getting up at this ungodly hour? I don’t want a vacation like that.” You try to reach for the covers, but they seem to be too far away. You’d have to open your eyes to find them, but you really don’t want to. 

“I’d rather stay here. In bed. And rot.” You mumble into the sheets. “You go on stupid early vacation yourself.” 

“You’re worse than Bucky.” Steve gives an exasperated sigh. “And he’s really insufferable before 9AM.” 

Giving a little kick with your leg, you turn your face to the other side and reach for a pillow to cover your head with. In case your bossy Alpha decided to lift the blinds and scorch you with morning sun. 

Though you were pretty sure there was no sun yet on the horizon. There couldn’t be. It was too fucking early! It was basically still night.

“Then maybe go on this mid-night vacation yourself and send Bucky here to me. We’ll be grumpy together and sleep like normal people do.”  

You shriek aloud, your eyes opening instantly, when a brutal sting burns your asscheek. Then another one lands, on the other side of your butt. 

Before you get a chance to react to the spanking, Steve grips your ankles and pulls you across the mattress in one, swift move. Your legs dangle over the edge of the bed, feet kicking above the floor. Then strong hands are gripping your hips and you’re lifted into the air. 

Steve turns you in his arms, with the skill of a man who’s done that plenty of times, so you’re facing him. It’s body memory, or whatever cognitive reaction, to wrap your legs around his hips as he carries you. 

The light in the bathroom turns on, causing your eyes to squint in protest. With another huff, you hide your face in the crook of Steve’s neck. He really smells good in the morning. Damn  him! 

He eases you down, until your feet touch the tiled floor. He cups your chin and tilts your head up.

“You have fifteen minutes to get ready, Sweet Brat. And if you even try to sneak back into bed, I’ll make sure that sitting through the few hours drive is going to be a real pain in your cute ass.” 

You scowl at him, but either your sleepy, straight-out-of-bed look doesn’t help with the murderous effect, or your Alpha simply isn’t bothered by your non-verbal threats. 

Quite the opposite, he flashes you a bright smile. Then, still holding your chin in his hand, he seals a short, but rather intense kiss on your lips. 

You watch him leave, still glaring. And maybe - but only a tiny bit - ogling. 

“Next year I’m gonna opt for staycation,” you mutter under your breath.

[moonastrogirl]

💘 Some important tips for each Nakshatra : Never to Do Tips 💘

DISCLAIMER The author name is at the end. I do not remember where I found it unfortunately (it was in my notes app for months fr 😭) tho I know I am supposed to share my knowledge as much as I can and not be a gatekeeper so here it is . I hope it will help you (if you know the author let me know too with the name down below) 💜

Ashwini : Never loose an opportunity to help people in your life, you will meet and learn some very important techniques from a reputed and respected person.

Bharani : Do not share your secrets with anyone. Self control is must.

Krittika : Stand by Truth. Do not entertain, liars, fakers or cheaters or not even try to possess those traits.

Rohini : Don't get too much attached with anything, attachment will cause havoc.

Mrigashira : Do not get disconnected with your parents or family.

Ardra : Learn to work under distractions and pressure. Stay calm in chaos.

Punarvasu : Never disobey Dharma (purpose), always stick to your commitments, you get divine support of universe.

Pushya : Do not ignore your family or your dear one needs while handling bigger responsibilities or social cause. Take out time for them.

Ashlesha : Never misuse your power & Never Curse anyone.

Magha : Never ignore your Pitris (your ancestors). Always do charity in their names.

Purva Phalguni : Avoid getting too much indulgent in pleasures, do your duty faithfully.

Uttara Phalguni : Never break your relationship & Be Kartavya Prayan (loyal).

Hasta : Never get carried away with failure, that's ladder of success for you.

Chitra : Never doubt your potential & don't act impulsive, else you will end up hurting with self.

Swati : Do not poke powerful authorities. Try to stay away from leg pulling.

Vishaka : Never leave the Marg of Bhakti (total faith and devotion) & Keep remembering Bhagwan (the Most High/God).

Anuradha: Never get distracted with too much darkness, sooner or later it's worth experiencing.

Jyeshta : Never misuse your authorities & power, one single mistake can ruin everything.

Mula : Don't get panic, when burdened with lots of negativity, that's the process of bringing clarity, like storm before calm.

Purva Ashadha : Not every war is to win, some are supposed to lift you up. In both victory or defeat you gonna be the same.

Uttara Ashadha : Following Dharma (career/purpose) is right but having a superiority complex can harm you in longer run.

Shravana : Tied up with lots of responsibilities & helplessness, we are born to live or die for a divine purpose, just give your best.

Dhanishta : Never boast or avoid beating the drum of success before its completion.

Shatabhisha : Never sell your soul for gains and profit. Things will turn negative for you.

Purva Bhadrapada : Never rush into conclusion cause what looks on the surface might not be real, try to see deep within. There lies solution.

Uttara Bhadrapada : Simplicity beautifies you, wear it and own it.

Revati : You are the Messenger of God & Bhakt (faith/worship/love). Showing path to directionless people is your real gem. Never sell superstition or blind faiths.

Author :

Mann ki Baat Trishna

Note from the author : Above points are just an observation with my best of understanding.

[genyawritesshizz]

Promotion - Sentinel Prime X Reader

Spending your days endlessly mining energon you yearned to one day be promoted. To finally free yourself from the frame aching work of the mines. Yet when you catch the optics of the Sentinel Prime, that promotion may come at a terrible cost, maybe you should have read the fine print.

Tbh it’s very little plot mostly just smut.

Written in bullet points, may go back to further flesh out in more detail but for now it will remain in this format

IVE NEVER WRITTEN FOR TRANSFORMERS NOR HAVE I READ MUCH FIC OF IT BUT I TRIED TO GET THE TERMS RIGHT BUT YA KNOW, ITS A LOT.

Possible part 2, we’ll see how this does.

WARNING: Dubious consent, emotional manipulation, Power Imbalance, (TBH Sentinel is a walking red flag), Sexual Coercion, Size kink, SMUT, Cybertronian reader,

This is essentially just robot porn I'm sorry to all my anime followers :(

The first time Sentinel Prime had set his optics on you he knew, much to his initial disgust, he wanted you. 

A miner. 

Of all the femme’s at his disposal the one that at last managed to catch his gaze was a cogless, bottom level, miner. 

“That thing?” With a snarled lip and multiple sets of trailing skeptical eyes, Airachnid's own revulsion was evident. Far down below the balcony on which they stood, walking the bustling city streets you at last returned to his hungry gaze. 

“Unfortunately so.”

Primus, what an honor it was to be within the presence of Cybertrons protector, the bot who single handedly protected all Cybertronians from the Quintessons; Sentinel Prime. 

After being approached by Arachnid and ordered to follow her you had initially feared you had broken an unknown protocol, resulting in a demotion. Yet much to your shock within the gold columned building you had been led to he was there.

The look of pure admiration within your optics as you stared up to him in awe coupled with the now quiet whir of your internal fans as your spark raced within his mere presence fed his already raging primal desire.

Such blind naivety.

"Walk with me. I’d like to discuss something important." His tone was warm but carried a weight of authority. One you could not help but blindly follow. 

The two of you stroll through the empty corridors, arachnid standing guard just outside of its entrance.

“Tell me, have you always felt bound to the mines? Or have you ever imagined something greater for yourself?" You shift, pace faltering a smidge, taken aback by his directness. You're proud of your work as a miner but can’t deny that you’ve thought about rising above this level.

"The mines are… Well, they’re home. I have my friends down there. But I’ve always wanted to do more…to make a real difference for Cybertron." 

Sentinel nods, his optics narrowing slightly. Searing blue scanned from the top of your dull paint chipped helm to your transfixed gaze, (noting how you subconsciously averted it away from him when noticing his search), down to your chin.

A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, signaling his satisfaction in finding whatever he had hunted for. 

Vulnerability suited you well.

"I could see that. You carry yourself with a strength that is rare, even among the most seasoned warriors." 

His confident stride deviates him closer to you and he lowers his voice just a touch. 

"Cybertron needs warriors with your spirit. And not just in the mines. In places where real change can be forged." 

His words spark something in you. Your gaze sharpened, instantly locking with his, the once thick humility gives way to a flicker of pride. 

‘Is he going to promote me?’ You hopefully thought. You had been working your frame down to the wire for the last few rotations in hopes of this.

Sentinel picks up the change in demeanor immediately. Before continuing his sweet talk, he comes to a complete stop and turns towards you.

His frame is significantly larger than yours, as to be expected when comparing a cogless to a Prime.

Though, the way he truly towered over you left you feeling far weaker than usual as he had to bend down significantly to reach optic level with you.

"Too often, talents like yours go overlooked down there. Others might not see it, but I do. Imagine if you were to rise up, to stand among those who shape Cybertron’s future. Those who ensure our planet’s place as the greatest in the galaxy." With each passing word he had leaned closer, faceplate now mere centimeters from yours.

Your spark fluttered. 

His venting flowed deliciously warm against your intake.

Proximity feedback signals fired on high and energon lines pumped furiously fast. 

Yet despite your system's shock at his actions, you could not look nor move away.

“You really think… I could be that?”

A set of servos planted themself around your lower chassis, their span long enough to completely wrap around you. 

Your servers struggled to process exactly what was happening, focusing solely on the swirling lights of blue that threatened to swallow you whole.

“I know you can.”

The digits ensnaring your waist tightened, pulling you flush against his wide frame. 

His helm delved lower, denta lightly nipping at the sensitive wires between the spaces of your minimal plating. 

The second you beeped in surprise then melted into his embrace, helm craning to the side allowing him further access, he knew once again. 

You were not going anywhere. 

But then again, why would you want to?

When your protector was so kind enough to show you, a nobody, such special affection. 

Never had you anticipated that you would ever find yourself within a Primes personal suite yet here you were. Sprawled out atop a luxurious berth, hidden away from the rest of Iacon city, with desires you had never even thought to dream of coming true.

Your gracious leader's frame was reduced to a hunched, yet still ever imposing, form as he kneels between your legs. Your modesty paneling had long since been retracted, revealing your array to his hungry gaze, and allowing you to relish in all the new sensations your Prime was bestowing upon you.

No, in all your cycles you had never found the desire to fragbond with someone. Yet now as Sentinel Prime’s silver glossa ravenously glides through the throbbing mesh of your valve and mouthpiece occasionally latching onto your external node you cannot believe your hesitancy for such pleasures. 

To think you had gone for so long without.

Not to worry, never again shall you ever have to suffer such a fate.

It is extremely out of character for Sentinel to give his partner's pleasure this way or in any way/to care about it. 

Normally he wastes no time in pleasuring others, he was a busy man after all. Instead focusing solely on his own release within others bodies then disposing of them.

But something about having you pinned beneath one of his arms, the other easily reaching over your head to hold your wrists down, the way you cried out for him, your Prime, and to be completely at his mercy…It has his spike twitching beneath his own paneling.

Savagely he feasts upon your now swollen valve, thick glossa entering your spasming opening, nose buried atop your external node.

“M-my, oh Primus! - My Prime I-” You were completely unfamiliar with the feeling boiling inside you, it felt as though a coil was winding. Each intrusion of his glossa only pulled it tighter.

“That’s right, say my name.” A smug smirk tugged itself into the corners of his faceplate before he delved back where you so desperately wanted him. 

You looked and sounded both pathetic and desperate.

He loved it.

“Sentinel!”

Overloading into the mouth of said mech was absolutely euphoric.

Though despite your high, he was left utterly displeased to hear you leave off the Prime in your cry.

He had earned that title.

It was his name.

You would learn the error of your mistake soon.

He did not ask permission to continue. 

Standing up from his crouched position, the grip that once held you down now flipped you onto your chest plate and dragged you towards the edge of his berth, allowing your legs to dangle off the edge.

Even on the tips your pedes you would still not touch the golden floor beneath.

Positioning your aft up into an arch he at last retracted his paneling, allowing his spike to spring free. 

Central processor still short circuiting under the throws of overloading, you did not even notice the shift in position.

Once your intake had returned to normal your mind followed suit, catching up to the reality of what was happening.

Yet it was too late to protest as something sickeningly thick prodded at your valve's still quivering entrance.

It felt like far too much.

Trying to squirm away from it you're met with a dark chuckle and thick digits atop your shoulder, easily pulling you back down into position.

“Where do you think you're going? We're just getting started sweetspark”

The moment the head of his spike entered, you felt an immediate sense of dread wash over and a cold shiver through your struts. 

“Too big...” Your vocalizer had barely returned, causing the whine to sound utterly pitiful, drowned in static and served only to feed Sentinel's ego.

“Hm? What's that?” Leaning over your form, faceplate centimeters away from your audio receptors, steam rolled with his words; fogging over the heaving metal of your shoulder plates.

“Frag…You-You’re too big.”

“Oh, do you want me to stop?” His tone was high in pitch and laced with manipulation. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint your Prime now would you?” 

A strangled whimper and a shake of your head ‘no’ gave little confirmation to his taunt in ‘permitting’ him to keep going, not that he cared whichever direction your response led. 

Even if you wanted to stop, you had no power to break away from him.

A deep, dominating, chuckle bubbled within his chest plate. “I thought not. You’re serving me, a great honor really.”

It felt like being pried open, the way his spike speared into your clamping valve was utterly painful. 

Despite your cries you attempted to stay still as the gold winged Prime behind you continued to push further. 

Each half centimeter only served to strengthen the burn.

Halfway in you had closed your optics, denta plates gritted tightly shut. 

“Take it all, I know you can.”

The same four words that once filled you with hope now filled you with burning heat.

You will take what he is so graciously giving you. 

Finally, after what felt like eternity, his entire spike was successfully sheathed inside. 

Though this was just the beginning.

“So tight,” Your body was clamped around the intruder in a vise grip. Desperately begging for it to be removed. “So small.”

His pace was brutally fast. The servos on your shoulder and hip kept you from escaping or sliding too far away from his attack. 

Surprisingly, after a few klicks, the tight inner calipers of your valve slowly loosened. His spike, now slathered in a combination of fluids, began sliding without much resistance. 

At last, a few surges of pleasure coursed through your system. 

Soon both of you were grunting, occasionally moaning. Though your sounds far outnumbered his. 

Your servos clenched into the smooth bedding atop his berth, surely tearing the fabric though in this moment neither of you cared. However it was something he would be sure to punish you for later. 

“You're mine, little miner.” His hips pistoned faster, slamming against your aft, surely to leave you sore. “All Mine.”

In response all you could do was hold on tighter, moaning louder with each intense slam.

“I’ll. never. let. you. go.” Each word sent another wicked surge into your swollen valve.

Blind sighted by the throes of pleasure bordering on overstimulation his words simply did not translate in your faltering audio receptors.

Though he meant every bit of it.

Helm falling back and a loud moan echoing throughout the gold-plated room, his overload blazed hot through his system. Filling your already stuffed valve to the brim with his transfluid.

Fans whirling on high, neither of you moved from your conjoined position for a few klicks.

After he's regained his senses fully, he removes himself from your valve, being sure to marvel at his work of completely ruining your once virgin body with a devilish smirk. Admiring the way his bright blue transfluid seeped from your still clenching valve.

Though this will be far from the last time he sees you like this.

With wobbling arms, you attempted to rise, though as you began to lift yourself up a large palm pushed you back down.

"We're not done."

True to his word, you had earned a promotion.

Fitted with only the finest armor paneling and a fresh coat of paint you had earned yourself the pristine position of his pet.  

A position you held with utmost dignity, after all you were serving your Prime.

[yaut-jaknowit]

“Jealousy seems to be a great motivator for you.”

Yautja Captain is jealous when his second in command starts spending time with the Dr of the transport ship instead of with him.

Jealousy Is A Great Motivator

Pairing: Zageiadp (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2901

Summary: Between the captain and healer on board the transport ship you run with, you are their main concern. Zage despises the way E'ki growing nearer. The healer needs to stay away from his second in command.

Author Note: When I saw this pop in my inbox, I got super excited! I love jealousy. I didn’t know if you wanted it smutty but I have an idea: when E’ki comes back one time, he finds the two in the Zageiadp’s chair. They are facing the door while Zageiadp rails the shit out of them. Zageiadp makes eye contact. That’s all that’s needed: he won

Masterlist

Ao3

Graceful steps lead the lumbering Zageiadp to the front of the ship. The hallway leading to the cockpit barren and empty from life. Yet, there’s a scent he’s growing to despise with every bit o f his very being. A snarl echoing from the back of his throat before the cockpit doors slid open. His hands curled into fists at the sight revealed to him.

If only he could throw down the damn E’ki out of the nearest hatch. But, unfortunately, he’s needing for emergencies and accidents. The Zageiadp snapped his mandibles shut to prevent any foul words from escaping and sounding to the one person he’d never want to hurt.

One of the only oomans on this ship sat seated in a chair not designed for such a small creature. A look of intrigue alit in your eyes. One he wanted directed at him rather than the sea blue Yautja consuming your attention. You should be gazing at him, greeting him as he takes over your duties. Yet, E’ki is chittering your ear off.

His fangs scrapped against one another. Harsh words desperately crawled at his throat. Words you didn’t need to hear as he directed them at E’ki. He couldn’t believe it. This was fourth time this week alone he’s come to stink up the place. Any Yautja could smell the pheromones. Yet, you, as a ooman, were nose blind to what was happening right in front of you.

From your comfortable seat too big for you, you spotted out of the corner of your eye the familiar form of the captain. A soft smile graced your features, careful not to expose your teeth to any of them. You twisted in your seat and waved at him. “Right on time, Zage!” you teased the yellow based Yautja who looked tense.

After working side-by-side for a couple of years, you’ve learned his gait, his stance, his sitting position. When you’re confined to the same room for the same duration, you learn a lot about him. Possibly, he just slept wrong and didn’t want to be bothered.

Zageiadp grunted and dipped his at you. His quiet, bare feet carried him over to your side of the console. The heat his broad body created sent waves of warmth over you. You nearly leaned towards him in reaction but paused the action. That would be weird. Instead, you tilted your head up to find him gazing down at you.

“Anything to report?” he questioned and saddled up behind you. His thick arms rested on the back of your chair. His dark eyes moved to E’ki with an unknown emotion swirling inside of them. You tilted your head slightly but didn’t get an answer from him. Not that he says much in the first place.

You shook your head. “Nope,” you popped the ‘p’. “All’s well in here, Zage!” Zageiadp grunted while his gaze was kept on the sea blue Yautja in front of you. One of his massive hands dropped onto your shoulder and gaze a small squeeze. You appreciate the touch, knowing he has your back.

E’ki’s eyes narrowed. The blue darkening with a subtle glare. One not directed at you. Then, he quirked an upper mandible up and called your name with a chuff. “Would you like to come to my room after your shift? I know how tiring this job can be. I would like to ease any of your troubles,” he offered with a friendly expression.

Your face brightened with a smile. “Oh, y-“ The hand on your shoulder tensed up and pulled you flush against the back of your chair. An ‘oof’ escaped you. Both of you hands grasped the armrest for support.

“No, they won’t be,” Zageiadp bites at the offending male in his presence. His hold on you is firm and demanding. There’s not a chance in the universe he was going to let this healer take you from underneath his fangs. “They’ll be too busy with me.”

This had you confused. Zageiadp hadn’t talked to you about any dealings after your shift was up. There was no plans he had schedule. Your face twisted, brows furrowing, as you tilted your head back to peer up at the yellow Yautja. You go to lean up but his hold is sturdy despite his attention focused on the other Yautja in the room.

“Well wait a-“ His hand moved to your mouth and officially silenced you. It easily covered the lower half of your face.

“We need to run diagnostics,” Zageiadp explains with a loud growl added to rumbly voice. “And that’ll take all night. They’ll be far too tired to even get out bed in the morning.” E’ki’s fists curled, claws biting into the tough flesh of his palm. His mandibles snapped against one another as he stared down the opposing male who was laying claim over you.

E’ki huffed then stood taller, issuing his dominance in the moment. One Zageiadp returned to his full height, dark eyes solely on the healer. “That’s no problem,” the sea blue Yautja bit out and rolled his shoulders. “Why not tomorrow night? Or will they be busy too?” The words themselves weren’t mean but the tone was full of anger.

This time, Zageiadp’s mandibles curled into a vicious smile. “Very, very busy,” he answered in return and let his hand slip off of your mouth.

You could barely breath in the tension filled room. These two were having a dominance battle thingy going on. The time you’ve been around the Yautja species has educated you about their culture. Dominance and mating. Always need to be the biggest and baddest wolf on the block. You spin in your chair on your knees and gaze up at Zageiadp.

“What are we doing tomorrow?” you questioned in hopes to ease up the two forces battling each other silently. You’d rather not be stuck in the middle of two raging males. There’s been plenty of times you’ve seen when Yautjas duke it out. This transport ship is small. Disagreements happen. Fights occur. It’s never a pretty sight at the end of the day.

His dark eyes flicker down at you for only a moment. The coarseness of his fingertips caress against your chin. The softness in your orbs nearly kills him. Yet, that makes this fight all the more worth it.

“Maintenance. Learning,” are his gruff answers. Then, Zageiadp’s attention is returned to the offender at hand. His tough refuses to leave the softness of your skin. “Can never stop learning.” You nodded along, agreeing with his words. He was right. Even an old dog can be taught new tricks.

“Why that is true,” E’ki snarked with tense mandibles. His fists twitch with the need to deck Zageiadp straight in the face to get his hands off of you. It was his scent that needed to be rubbed into your plush flesh. Not the damn Zageiadp.

The glare Zageiadp held darkened, fingers pinching your chin harder. “You’re not allowed up in the cockpit too. Unless it’s an emergency. Which, chatting is not.”

Now, that got you furrowing your brows. Despite his firm grasp on you, you sat up straighter and frowned at Zageiadp. “Yes, he is! As your second in command, I allow him access up here. He’s not doing any harm talking to me,” you countered and crossed your arms. Even up on your knees in the chair didn’t offer you much of added height. You barely reached his collar bones.

Zageiadp’s eyes returned to your fiery form defying him. The heat they once held vanished, never to directed at you. Instead, he nonchalantly stared down at you, admiring the fire that blazed to life your eyes. He relaxed and leaned onto the back of your chair.

Both of your faces were near one another. “As the Zageiadp, first in command, of this vessel, I deny him access to the cockpit. He does not belong here. His place is the medical bay.” Your jaw dropped. You couldn’t believe he was doing this! This was completely unfair. It’s not like there’s much to do when he’s not up here.

“Zage! You can’t do that,” you whined, saddened and angered all at the same time he was deny you someone to chat with. All the stories E’ki has shared with you. Unless you were not stuck in here for most of your day, you wouldn’t be able to listen to them.

He moved so his face was closer to you while towering over you. This forced your head to tilt even further back, straining your neck. “Yes, I can.” A calmly stated fact. His attention drew to the speckles that flaked in your eyes. He could stay here and watch them glitter forever.

Your gaze narrowed again. “Why? Can’t I not talk with a friend of mine?” Heat flashed down his spine, an uncomfortable feeling at your words. He did not want to isolate you. No, you are free to be your own person. But he didn’t want E’ki to get any ideas and courting for your hand before he had the perfect gift for you.

Worst of all, he knew you wouldn’t completely understand what a courting gift was. Not when you freely give any Yautja on the ship something. They know better but it’s you who doesn’t.

When gifts you what you deserve, he’ll explain it to you. Then, you get to decide if he’s worthy of your time and heart.

Until then, he’ll fight of this damn healer with every bicker and bite. As much as he would love to challenge the male to a brutal fight in front of you, he knew the consequences. Oomans didn’t understand it was part of their nature. The last thing he wanted was to freak you out. Then, you could possibly leave him and the ship forever. To find a new crew to work with.

Zageiadp never snarled at the dark thought and refocused his mind on the issue at hand. At the worst time possible.

E’ki leans forward with a smug look and hovers his mouth next to your ear. His warmth breath ghosts over the shell of your ear. You couldn’t help the shutter that ran down the length of your spine. A giggle pouring from your lips.

“I’ll see you later, little ooman,” he huskily whispered into your ear. One of his mandibles brushing against your ear when he pulls away. You couldn’t help the gasp that left your supple lips.

All the talking, the close proximity he could bare. Yet, to touch you like that, make you sound like that. Zageiadp saw red. A bellow exploded from his chest. His hand flew faster than anyone could react. It struck E’ki’s shoulder and send him reeling backwards into the console.

A challenge had been issued.

The sea blue Yautja whipped his head up. All of his contained tressed slapping harshly against his back. A roar echoed through the cockpit from both deadly forces. There you were, caught in the middle. You gapped at the fighting ensuring, unable to scramble from your chair. Not that either of them in a blind rage would ever hurt you.

Fists and claws soared through the air before you could register them. Zageiadp had rushed around the chair to push straight in E’ki’s space. Not allowing the Yautja to have time to collect himself.

You coward in your co-Zageiadp chair, knees pulled up into your chest. All you could do was watch for this battle of dominance to finish.

A well-placed kick to E’ki sent the male flying back. Zageiadp didn’t stop. The jealousy filled his veins with fire. His scales burned with a need to ensure this fool didn’t make the same mistake twice. It was like it was coded into his very DNA.

His opponent is able to block and dodge about every strike he send his way. It only angers him more. His mind clouded.

Despite the area of the cockpit wasn’t the largest space on the ship, neither them inched their way close to the little ooman. Their minds were zoned in on besting the other. At the same time, they always had a thought on you. Never letting you leave their mind for even a second. Not wanting to risk your safety.

Claws dug into the thick muscles of Zageiadp’s shoulder. Blood drew to the surface in an instant. A snarl came from the yellow Yautja’s throat. He twisted out of the way of a kick and grabbed the offending leg. Zageiadp exerted his strength to knock the healer off of his sole foot. The Yautja came tumbling down yet was swiftly to roll out of the way of fist that dented the floor.

The strength of Zageiadp shocked you, his durability as well. To keep fighting after bending metal like he had done.

The yellow Yautja bellowed a roar. E’ki returned the call. Both of them met in the middle with fists thrown harshly at another.

When yellow crashed into blue, you slapped a hand over your mouth. E’ki was knocked backwards and stumbled over his feet. Then, his heel caught on air and sent him crashing onto the floor. Zageiadp flared his arms out with a roar that echoed inside your brain.

His dark eyes watched the fallen Yautja for a few long seconds before the challenge had ended. A huff deflated his sweaty chest.

Zageiadp snapped his head over at you and began to march straight towards you. A yelp passed your lips when his sudden attention was directed at you. Your head whipped side to side for way to escape the heat of Zageiadp’s gaze. It was far too late.

Veiny, bleeding hands captured each armrest. Yellow entered your vision, taking up everything. Heavy pants fanned over your features, blowing strands of hair out of your face. The Yautja consuming your very sight leaned further into your space.

Heat radiated off of him. Zageiadp leaned down to crowd further into the little space you had in the first place. Without thinking, you turned your head to the side and exposed your bare throat to him. His eyes immediately narrowed at the flesh you accidentally offered to him. He let loose a deep, rumbling purr.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Your scent filled his senses. His eyes slid shut while he embraced it. The purr that filled the air continued to rumble away.

One of his hands reached up to cup your cheek, thumb rubbing over your cheek bone. This wasn’t someone you should be afraid of. Your muscles began to loosen up, legs spilling over the edge of the chair. Your eyes fluttered open. He sensed it before pulling away and opening his own. His scent is already being rubbed into your skin. A warning. A threat. To anyone who dares touch what is his.

“My ooman,” he grumbled into the tense air and rested his forehead against yours.

Your heart is beating nearly out of your chest, thundering so loudly he could probably hear it himself. “I-uh… That, that was impressive,” you praised timidly, unsure it was proper to do that. His purr deepened. His hand drifted to your hair and gripped the strands.

Besides that, you didn’t know what to do or say. If it was even proper. He was… dangerous. But not to you. Not the way he continuously placed himself between you and E’ki. Not that E’ki would harm you either. Zageiadp was extremely protective…

Shit. He was jealous!

The realization struck you hard and made your mind whirl with thoughts of what that could mean. “Are-are you jealous?” you questioned quietly into the thick air.

A growl answered you at first. His fist full of your hair tightened and pulled your head back. Neck fully exposed, he leaned down and pressed his mandibles to the feeble flesh. You weren’t scared. Zageiadp would never hurt you.

“I’m not… jealous,” he grumbled in disagreement. A small laugh broke through the tension at last.

“And I thought Yautjas didn’t lie,” you jestered. The Yautja pulled away from your throat and find your eyes again.

“I’m not jealous. It’s just, you’re mine.” Your eyes expanded at his statement. He made it sound like a fact. And… you didn’t mind that. You snorted through your nose. “Do not laugh. It’s the truth. That fool thought he could best me, undermine me in without me being here. He was sorely wrong.”

You attempted to peek around him to see if E’ki was still here. Yet, Zageiadp fully consumed your vision. “Jealous seems to be a great motivator for you,” you teased the large male crowding into your space. He huffed before finally pulling away to use the armrests to prop himself up.

Zageiadp shrugged. “So what if I’m jealous? I don’t see you complaining.” Your lips tightly together. Instantly, your eyes darted to the side. Anything not to meet his gaze. He simply pinched your chin with two fingers and softly brought you to face him again. “Are you?”

Trapped in his hold, you are barely able to shake your head, not trusting your voice in this situation. “Good,” he purred. “The next time I see him in here, I will not hesitate to reteach him a lesson. I’ve done my fair share of training younglings. It’s nothing new.”

Dumbly, you nodded.

[sitp-recs]

Drarry fics where Draco is absolutely whipped for Harry? Especially love when everyone seems to know it except for Harry. Thanks! :)

Hi there! It’s hard to see Draco let Harry do whatever he pleases even when he’s pining ahaha but I do have a few suggestions. Would highly recommend eidheann and lettered as authors who usually write fics with a hopelessly in love Draco:

The Courting by the Pureblood Who Only Has Five Milligrams of Romantic Intelligence and Thinks He’s Real Smooth by hiimcibee (T, 19k)

Draco could grab Potter and shove him into a stall before proceeding to suck his soul out of his dick, but secretly, deep down, in the part of Draco that he will never admit to anyone, he is (everyone pauses to shudder) a romantic. Potter is not someone Draco wants a one-off with. Potter is — Draco’s beloved!

And Back Again (Where You Belong) by eidheann (E, 16k)

He thought back on their previous handshakes, and smiled faintly at the fact they always seemed to mean so much more to him than they did to Potter.

Whoo Knew? by oceaxe (E, 18k)

Despite having had a crush on his Auror partner for years, Draco's been biding his time and waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his case. But when Harry subscribes to a new wizarding personals service, Draco gets a wake-up call.

Five Weddings and a Potions Accident by lauren3210 (E, 19k)

In which Harry thinks he’s a playboy, everyone else knows better, and Hermione will kill Seamus if Ron tries to collect on that bet.

Nothing But You On My Mind by Moonflower_Rose (M, 21k)

Potter has been in Australia on an internship for almost a year, and Draco cannot wait for him to get back home. They'll finally have a chance to talk about their feelings for each other. What could possibly go wrong? Loads, as it turns out.

The Green Vial by eidheann (E, 31k)

After months of seeing Harry Potter walk into his Apothecary disappointed and hopeless, Draco offers to carry the baby that Harry can't. Now he's just got to hide the fact that he's been half in love with Harry for years.

dirtynumbangelboy by magpie_fngrl (E, 39k)

After Harry’s unfortunate encounter with his ex, Draco Malfoy makes him a proposition. Draco wants his parents to stop matchmaking him and Harry wants to make his ex jealous. All they need to do is simply pretend they’re in love. Problem is… Draco already is.

Another Heart Whispers Back by slytherco (E, 53k)

At twenty-five, Harry Potter is still a virgin and sorely lacking in options to change that state anytime soon. To help him find a plus one for Ron and Hermione’s wedding, and maybe kill two birds with one stone, Harry’s friends set him up on a series of blind dates. The only problem is, there’s something not quite right with each of their candidates.

Harry Potter Gives a Shit by talithan (E, 58k)

“Where are you headed?” “No place special,” Draco fumbled, and flushed further. But then: “I can change that,” said Harry Potter.

Finely Drawn Lines by The_Sinking_Ship (E, 61k)

Draco doesn’t consider himself an artist (though the dozens of sketchbooks lining his shelves might suggest differently). Yet ever since Potter returned to Hogwarts, accepting a teaching position alongside Draco, his drawings have taken on a rather singular focus.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm by SquadOfCats (E, 104k)

Eleven years after the war, Draco Malfoy leads a quiet, boring, and perfectly respectable life, thanks very much. Or, at least he does, until a sudden and very unexpected veela awakening causes him to throw soup all over Harry Potter in the middle of the Ministry cafeteria.

By the Grace by lettered (T, 140k)

Harry is an Auror instructor. Malfoy wants to be an Auror.

[savvyreyes4587]

Your Choice, My order.

Pm!Dazai x Fem!reader

Author's note: Chapter one came out quicker than expected so I hope you'll enjoy it and sorry if it's too short, also half edited.

Summary: Dazai is intrigued with you but there is only one problem… you're not happy about it.

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Blood, death, gore and mentions of suicide.

Go to Life Waster Series.

"So are you going to tell me?" Odasaku didn't have to look at Dazai to indicate what he was talking about, they both knew what he was asking.

Dazai only stared ahead, the emptiness he felt inside out somewhat ceased but it wouldn't fully go away… ever.

But truth be told, now he at least had something to keeo him intrigued enough until it either go away or simply… die and that something happened to be you.

Someone they called Time Weaver, a being able, to not see ahead into the future like Odasaku, but to manipulate time itself, go back in it or apparently slow it down, if what Chuuya told him was true.

She was a ghost to everyone, wherever she was, death followed and not a single person had seen her face before, at least not people he knew until Chuuya jumped in one day and claimed that he knew what you looked like but the slug refused to elaborate on when or why or how.

That was how he managed to corner you when he saw you at the bar which unfortunately proved that he was right, that he knew what you looked like but the idiot didn't think his actions through or how powerful you were and if it wasn't for Dazai then at least half the port mafia would've been attending his funeral right now.

Dazai was a curious being even though the abomination he was… it was human nature to be curious and he needed to know more about you, your ability, what it could and couldn't do. 

He desperately needed a distraction from the dark shadow looming over him, fucking with his mind and pushing him to a terrifying point that hadn't came in a very long time and you were that distraction whether you wanted to be it or not.

"Dazai?" It was Ango's voice that pulled him back go reality, the music from bar Lupin returning to his hearing and he turned to look at the two men looking at him and wondered if they saw into his thoughts…

Still, keeping appearances, Dazai sighed dramatically and finally answered. "She can control time." 

Odasaku looked like he was going to jump to the conclusion that you were like him but Dazai spared him the confusion after taking a swig of his drink.

"Not see into the future but she can slow time down, rewind it, shoot ropes from her body and who knows what else, she still didn't wake up yet." He clarified nonchalantly as if he didn't give a shit about the ability user or the ability itself but only a blind man wouldn't see the intrest he had in both.

Ango scoffed, his disapproval obvious "Yeah because you thought it was a good idea to have Kouyou as your plan B." 

Dazai pouted and shook his head. "I didn't know she was going to hit her that hard." 

"What do you expect from someone with the Golden Demon?" Ango barley moved an inch when Dazai hid himself behind Odasaku as if Ango was coming for his head.

Dazai tightened his hold on Odasaku's coat as he chanted. "Be gone, Devil." 

Oda only shook his head at the weird argument before an alarm went off on all their phones, indicating an attack on the port mafia.

In a blink of an eye, the childlike behaviour disappeared as they all stood up and got inside Ango's car as he drove them to the port mafia HQ while Dazai tried to contact Chuuya, his mood ruined thanks to the sudden emergency. 

When Chuuya finally answered after the fifteenth call attempt, that was how he started the conversation. "You waste of bandages! I told you we should hold her at a warehouse and not here!" 

Dazai's eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas day, hearing that you were awake, wrecking havoc and probably ruining Chuuya's outfit and mood… this night was starting to get better.

"That's why an emergency was called?" Dazai asked as Oda eyed him curiously, especially with the creepy smile Dazai had on his face.

Chuuya let out a trail of curses and the sound of things breaking, glass shattering and guards groaning in pain painted a nice picture for Dazai of the situation. 

"Yeah she woke up and chose violence and half our men are with the boss and the other half is dead or dying so could you make it here quicker, you dickhead!" Chuuya yelled on the other line as shuffling was heard. 

Probably moving to a better hiding spot. Dazai thought to himself before ending the call and telling Ango to go faster while smiling like a madman.

This night was going waaaaay better than his expectations. 

A few minutes later 

When Dazai and Oda arrived at the higher floors of the building he expected wreckage and perhaps a few bodies here and there but what he didn't expect was the bloody massacre all over the place, blood covering every corner, bodies and body parts all around…

Oda looked at Dazai as if he was waiting for an explanation but how was he to explain when he himself didn't understand. 

Dazai's intrest in you was increasing by the second and he didn't even have to look for you, a body flying past both him and Oda told him all he needed to know and he rushed in that direction, his coat flying with every step until he reached his destination where Chuuya was fighting you.

The young executive took you in, the unhinged look in your eyes, the blood covering your face and clothes, ropes shooting out in every direction to get hold of Chuuya who was barley using quarter of his ability on you, holding back with all his might.

You were the very image of every emotion that Dazai ever felt, painted in one being and the stupid waste of bandages as Chuuya called him stepped closer to you, ignoring Odasaku's protests.

You body went rigid for a second and you were right in his face in a… mere parts of a second, a rope shooting its way out and wrapping around his bandaged throat, lifting him off the ground.

"No guns this time?" You questioned, voice steady and booming with authority granted by your ability. 

Chuuya was beginning to move your way, ready to knock you out clean off when Dazai's hand shot out, ordering him to stop as he gazed into your eyes and he shook his head to the best of his ability with your rope tight on his throat.

"No guns." He barley let out and you smirked at him, expression holding every evil in the world.

"Wrong move." You moved a new rope, ready to strike him with it.

"But a man near Keisuke has one." He used the ace up his sleeve even though he wished he wouldn’t have to use it this soon, it could have came in handy later.

"What?" You were taken a back, shocked with what he said and Dazai took the opportunity to use the rope you had around his neck.

He pulled it forward, pulling you with it and placed his hand on your cheek, nullifying your ability and you both stumbled to the ground and he could only watch in amusement as you didn't understand what happened. 

His chocolate brown eyes pierced into your lost ones and he almost felt bad for his next words… almost. "If you don't want Keisuke to have a bullet in his head in the next minute, you will listen." 

Dazai could swear that he had never seen someone dare glare at him with so much visible hatred the way you were doing, you eyes fiery unlike any he had seen and maybe you could compete with the way Chuuya's looked in corruption. 

Yet, you didn't attempt to move as you took in the damage you've done and the three men surrounding you, one of them who didn't kill unless necessary, one who pretended that he was the baddest soul to ever walk the earth but he was entirely different and one… who didn't have a soul, much less empathy, much less trouble with killing you if you tried anything funny.

At last the weight of the situation you were in dawned upon you as Dazai saw how your body language changed from hostile to wary as you spoke. "He doesn't have anything to do with it." 

Dazai chuckled, unable to content himself at little naive you… no man, would get himself into taking care of an ability user like yourself, without having anything to do with it but he wasn't surprised you didn't see it. 

It was obvious that you led with your heart and emotions more than logic which would cause trouble if he managed to do what he wanted, which itself would be a miracle for you.

You almost stumbled backwards when Dazai knelt down, on the same level as you and his eyes looked haunting as he talked with so little emotion, as if he didn't even know them.

"He has everything to do with it but if you cooperate… his involvement could decrease if I say so." 

For the second time, you made the mistake of maintaining eye contact with him and he too was making mistakes right now, the mistake of letting himself deal with you directly, he could feel the invisible web of yours, luring him in and he was letting it.

"What do you want from me?" You asked, or rather demanded as you brought yourself closer to him to the point where you were breathing the same air.

He smirked, leaning in closer. "You will join the port mafia under my command and together we will learn your ability." 

He knew that if you fell in the hands of someone else, the port mafia wouldn't last much, if you were against them even if you and chuuya fought each other, it would lead to a destruction like the arahabaki one and the death of both of you.

Your voice shook with fear or rage, who knew. "And if I refuse? I could kill myself and then neither you nor anyone else can have any use of me." 

At that, Dazai had to pause everything momentarily and observe you for a minute. 

A girl who had abilities that were probably not naturally given but forced upon you, no home, no one to call family… all these would probably be enough reason to suggest that you might actually off yourself but there was one thing that changed the whole equation… Keisuke. 

The young executive had sent people all over where you usually appeared and managed to gather information. 

Tanaka Keisuke, a man who owned a market but it was actually a front to what or who he truly was, he found you around two years ago, saved you from a certain fate at that time and ever since, you became his protector and saved him at every turn… treating him like a brother you never had.

But someone like Dazai knew better than that saviour story but you were naive and someone who could be drained emotionally which Keisuke used on you perfectly but that also was why Dazai decided his answer to you question. 

With all the confidence he asked. "And leave Tanaka Keisuke all alone for the people who are after you to kill him? You wouldn't be that cruel, right?" 

The fury returned to you features. "As if you're letting me protect him? You're blackmailing me." 

"I didn't say I was a saint, Belladonna, but it's a give and take situation. You give yourself to us, and you take our protection to Tanaka. It's a win-win, don't you think?" 

He could see it behind those eyes of yours, the gears slowly turning and thinking of every possible outcome to any answer you would give.

"So what will it be, Bella? Us or Tanaka's death?" Dazai questioned.

Your gaze drifted to Chuuya, who was watching the scene unfold with a frown upon his face, not liking Dazai's plan but he could see why you turned to Chuuya, to you he probably looked like someone who might ensure his word.

Chuuya came closer, tone soft, meant to lure you to their trap. "I will be in direct control of his protection, he will be safe if you agree." 

You fell silent as your eyes were stuck on the floor but Dazai saw it, he had already won and you would be agreeing.

Step one was complete, now to the more complicated step… convincing the boss to take you in…

.

.

Taglist: @v15aexe

If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a comment;)

[storytowrite]

|You will always be mine ~ Lee Minho series|

PART 2

Paring: Minho x Y/N

Genre: smut, angst, university au

Word count: 942

Warnings: sex, 18+, Minho is a psycho, dom!Minho, sub!reader, abuse, slight BDSM, kidnapping, violence, age gap, Minho is an university professor, Y/N can be hurt physically (and mentally too I guess).

Synopsis: Who knew that accidental fuck in the club bathroom with a handsome man will bring you to a lot of unexpected events.

Author's note: I kept this series for a really long time not sure if I want to post it or not, but I decided to do it anyway, so I hope you'll like it.

——————————

Monday. The beginning of the week, the end of the weekend and the end of freedom. It was a sunny day. You woke up in the morning, the sun's rays streaming through the slightly tattered blinds. You had meant to fix them a long time ago, but you could never find the time. Your parents always told you to take care of such things right away because it would only get harder to gather the motivation later, but who listens to what parents say?

You got out of bed and stretched. Time to get ready for classes. You thought. You took off the oversized shirt you used as pajamas and put on a black lingerie set. Standing in front of the mirror, you admired how the bra emphasized your breasts. You examined your reflection. The love bites left by the guy from the Saturday party had almost disappeared; apparently, he hadn't bitten you as hard as you initially thought.

You put on a black top and dark jeans. You tied your brown hair into a high ponytail and applied light makeup. Then, grabbed your bag and left the apartment. Ever since you started university, you lived on your own. Your parents had a house on the outskirts of the city, and you didn't see them very often.

On your way to the university, you stopped by a café, where, as always, bought coffee and a croissant. Sipping your fresh latte, you entered the university campus. Soon, your classes were about to begin. You headed towards the lecture hall, lost in your thoughts.

"Y/N!" Suddenly you heard a familiar voice from the end of the corridor.

"Oh, hi Woo, so you did manage to transfer after all." You smiled at your friend. "You didn't mention on Saturday that you were starting your classes here today."

"Yeah, I know..." The guy gave you a genuine smile. "I didn't want to brag until I was sure it would work out. Do you happen to know where room 214 is? This place is like a maze."

"Mhm... it's right above us, on the floor next to the men's bathroom" You replied and took a sip of your coffee.

"Oh, great! Thanks!" He grinned at you. "I'm off to class. See you later, Y/N!" He said cheerfully and walked away, leaving you alone.

You just sighed and headed to the lecture room, sipping your coffee along the way. You were almost about to enter the classroom when someone bumped into you, spilling coffee on your blouse.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!" You snapped.

"Because it's my fault, right?" You heard in response and rolled your eyes.

"Can't you walk properly, Lisa?" You asked sharply, taking out tissues from your bag.

"It's not my fault you're blocking the way!" Lisa replied, tossing her hair and strutting toward her desk like a model.

You rolled your eyes. Lisa used to be your friend, but now she was your biggest enemy at the university and beyond. The two of you stopped getting along in sixth grade when Lisa accused you of stealing. Since then, Lisa took every opportunity to make your life miserable. Unfortunately, fate brought the both of you to the same major at the university.

With a quiet sigh, you took your usual spot by the wall, in the third row from the end, where you could easily do everything except take notes. You hated art history lectures. They bored you, and on top of that, the lecturer was old and spoke too slowly to focus.

You glanced at your watch. Strange. You thought. The lecture should have started a long time ago. You looked around the room. Other students also seemed to wonder where the professor was. He usually arrived five minutes early, and now ten minutes had passed since the lecture should have begun, and he still hadn't shown up. Some students started packing up and preparing to leave. Some were already standing up, when suddenly the door opened, and a quite short man entered the room, who was by no means their lecturer.

"Dear students, the class hasn't ended yet. Please take your seats." He spoke up and placed his folder on the desk before leaning against it. He casually rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, with the top two buttons undone. He looked much younger than their usual lecturer, and he was much more handsome. "My name is Lee Minho. You can call me Mr. Lee." He introduced himself. "I'll be substituting for Mr. Kang until the end of the year as he has some personal reasons preventing him from continuing to teach this subject." He informed the students. "At the end of the class, please sign your names on this list." He added, placing a white sheet of paper on the desk. "Shall we begin?" He asked, looking around the room.

You observed the man closely. His black pants perfectly accentuated his muscular thighs. The white shirt tucked into his lower garment gently hugged his torso. His dark hair was slightly tousled by the wind. He wore glasses, which added some seriousness to his appearance. He looked intimidating, yet his voice was gentle. You recognized that voice… Your eyes met. You stared into his dark brown eyes and froze. It was the same man with whom you had sex in the club's restroom a few days ago. Shock painted across your face.

"What the fu..." you covered her mouth before you could utter the last word. You knew that if anyone found out about what had happened between you and the lecturer on Saturday, you would be in trouble.

——————————

<- Part 1 | Part 3 ->

-> Series Masterlist

——————————

Taglist: @yaorzu-blog, @iovecb97, @hpnsfwaddict

[incorrect-riordanverse]

It's really disheartening that Rick Riordan stance on the war I understand that he wants to be neutral on this stance but in my opinion by becoming neutral he only worsening the issue as many Palestines are dying that are mostly children, how the majority of Israeli are supporting the Genocide of Palestine, and how the government is trying so hard (but miserably failing) to justified the genocide. I will hold him accountable for what he said on this issue as during this period the choice is basically "you are with us or against us."

Part of me wishes he will realize what he said was wrong and understand the bigger issue that plays at hand. I will criticism for his actions as how can a man who promotes LGBTQIA and representation of minorities and disabilities in his books turn a blind eyes to Genocide of people. However we can only wait and see on his next move.

One last thing about your previous you said you don't group Riordan with other authors where do you would group him with? Also this is more on an opinion base answer but many people are boycotting companies that support Israel there as been another post on Twitter on boycotting authors. Rick Riordan happens to be one of them. Do you believed that he should be boycotted with other authors or he should be properly educated and apologized for his previous statement? If you believed he should be boycotted what do tou have to say to those who might have the mentality of "separate the art from the artist"

thank you for this ask, and i completely agree with you! it is extremely hypocritical of him considering what he preaches for in his books. i think he’s convinced he has properly addressed the apartheid by using very vague language that can be applied to anything, and in doing so, he’s addressed nothing really.

your first question on who i would group him with— probably other authors who are doing the exact same as him in their virtue signalling. i always like to link my other blogs to each other, so i don’t think it’s a secret that i have a red queen account and i’m pretty passionate about that. unfortunately, victoria aveyard is another fantasy author who has literally wrote a whole four-book series on the uprising against oppression but is now playing neutral in her address of the apartheid. rebecca yarros is in the same boat, although i haven’t read ‘fourth wing,’ fans have said there are large themes of oppression within the book. so if i had to group riordan it would probably be in the ‘i-like-to-write-about-it-for-profit-and-praise-only’ group.

in terms of boycotting, i think that’s a great idea! i would also like to remind everyone that the percy jackson tv show is coming out in a little over a month, but disney is a huge industry financially supporting israel as well ($2 million in funding), which is obviously far more damning than a poorly written address by one person. there is a boycott happening for disney as well— and the pjo show will be released on disney + . i implore everyone to not watch it on that platform!! personally i will be pirating it online (idk if i’ll get into trouble saying that here but lol oh well), because im pretty sure the boycott is only for withdrawing financial support, not simply consuming media.

i feel like separating art from the artist only works if that artist is… like, dead, and you’re using that art and its values as a historical insight to how the world was during its time. you can still like a piece of work that has a problematic artist, you can engage with the work (to an extent). but separating art from the artist barely works because either:

to engage with the art is to support the artist in some way, so that artist is making money based on your interaction with that (particularly in the case for singers and streaming of songs)

that artists’ views and values are so rancid that it’s literally embedded within the text itself. to ignore it is harmful.

harry potter is my all-time favourite example to use, because jkr is the scum of the earth, and her views are entrenched in her work. a lesser known example is sarah j maas and her books (she’s also not as dogshit as jkr, but then again, its not hard to be a better person than her). i’m not going to bag on these people for liking things by problematic people (would be hypocritical of me), i just think it’s cowardly not to address it when you come across it, or at least admit to it. to simply write things off as ‘separate to the artist’ is like purposefully turning off your critical thinking skills.

on whether boycotting or an apology is enough— if riordan did apologise and used specific language and not the nonsense he had in that blog, expressed his remorse for his ignorance and then actually did or said something to support the people of palestine then, yeah. that’s fine and that’s how we learn ig. but he should educate himself, too many activists, people from the arab community and especially palestinians are expected to be all-knowing and to educate everyone else on an already draining and personal tragedy. it’s been exhausting for me, i can’t imagine what they’re going through. if riordan (or anyone) needs to be educated, he should do it himself, and (at least in my opinion) i don’t think the info is very hard to find now. it’s just about weeding out the misinformation.

i think boycotting is a good idea as of now. it can serve to be a catalyst for self reflection for many people. also, as much as i hate most online discourses, talking about it online needs to happen. i don’t want these authors to forget, for a moment, about the ignorance they posted online during a time of international crisis.

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

i haven't read the acotar series but yeah there are...SO many issues with it. I was about to say I'm not surprised that people wanted the racism to be more violent so they could acknowledge but actually, y'know what? No, I am surprised. I'm concerned that people want characters of colour to be dragged through the dirt and be the victims of horrific acts before they can acknowledge the racism of the author. I cannot emphasise how crestfallen, how upset I felt when I searched up what Illyrians were for the first time. Like...oh. They are brown, like me. But they are also a whitewashed version of what white people want them to be: a violent, primitive nation that treat their women awfully, just so that white people can come in and save them, as if they weren't the ones ramping up that kind of misogyny in the first place.

I look across the YA sphere and I see white authors constantly say, through their writing, that poc are violent, that we are backwards, that the women should not exist and do not have lives unless they are attached to white people. I feel that the only time this has kind of been challenged in a mainstream YA fandom has been the grishaverse, and even then, the rep for brown peoples is muddled and vague at best, and the rep for Black people feels like there was no exploration of culture at all.

What I'm trying to say is: it's not great in the YA market, but SJM is by far one of the most racist authors out there. White fans shouldn't be begging for the violence against characters of colour to be ramped up so they can decide when they can step in and say enough is enough.

ugh! this was so beautifully put!

thiis will be a long discussion!

i really want to preface this by saying i would really implore everyone in their free time to read toni morrison's playing in the dark! it's a deep dive into the ways blackness (and in this case minority status) is defined by white superiority; how the very presence of the non-white is always used to reiterated the inherent superiority of their white peers! poc are used as conduits to uphold beliefs of white supremacy - the very existence of the nonwhite existing to boasts the intelligence of their white peers.

sjm's work moves in such racist territory that it so easy so see these mentalities etched into her work. every single poc that is included in the story is relegated to this ideology; their very existence speaks to the power of the main character. the primary function of the interactions deal in shame, humiliation, and cowardice (see: tarquin, nehemia, thesan, helion, tarquin, cressida, nesryn, lucien, the unnamed enslaved @ endovier, baxian, unnamed illyrian population etc).

morrison opens up her novel by asserting that we should be conscious of the way the author's imagination expresses itself:

“Both [reading and writing] require being mindful of the places where imagination sabotages itself, locks its own gates, pollutes its vision. Writing and reading mean being aware of the writer’s notions of risk and safety, the serene achievement of, or sweaty fight for, meaning and response-ability.”

morrison also posits that author's intenionality and/or bias are unfortunately apart of the creative process of imagination, reiterating:

“The imagination that produces work which bears and invites rereadings, which motions to future readings as well as contemporary ones, implies a shareable world and an endlessly flexible language. Readers and writers both struggle to interpret and perform within a common language shareable imaginative worlds. And although upon that struggle the positioning of the reader has justifiable claims, the author’s presence—her or his intentions, blindness, and sight—is part of the imaginative activity.”

this initial opening builds an understanding of the creative process, in a wholesome way. what i mean is - morrison is establishes that the creative process is informed by our own perceptions and understanding. the way our the narrative voice reconciles normalcy vs. unknown says something about the author. or what the author has put to page. the reason i am even discussing this is to make a similar point: sjm's writing oftentimes subconsciously asserts the dominance of the 'main, white character,' in conjunction with a ethnic, poor, nonwhite individuals of the story. when we meet celaena, we are immediately aware of aelin's 'superiority' over the slaves in endovier. the function of her slavery is to relate her power, while the story views the enslaved as dump, hopeless, individuals whose only goal is to die for their liberation in an endless cycle. aelin even complains that she 'finally' can talk to compotent people with assumption that the enslaved at endovier were somehow too dumb to adequtely communcate with her.

a court of thorns and roses invents an entire culture whose only cultural practices seemed be filled with violence, misogyny, and brutality. then the story argues that only three (3) out of thousands of brown men actually have common sense. that they're so dumb and brutish that they'd absolutely choose to have barely any resources out of spite of their benevolent high lord. cassian, rhys, and az are the strongest in history. and to relate their power, we get these dumb brutes who just seem okay for fighting for a country that would not even be allowed to enter....that's actually some crazy racist writing lmaooo. or the fact that nuala and cerridwen are trained spies, who up to this point, make so much money they'd probably be able to retire...and they just choose to be also the handmaidens...for five-hundred year old fae. like...immediately after acotar, there back working. rhys and feyre can still be reeling from that experience but nuala and cerridwen can just serve because that's just what they like to do.

the next notable quote states:

“These speculations have led me to wonder whether the major and championed characteristics of our national literature—individualism, masculinity, social engagement versus historical isolation; acute and ambiguous moral problematics; the thematics of innocence coupled with an obsession with figurations of death and hell—are not in fact responses to a dark, abiding, signing Africanist presence”

“The fabrication of an Africanist persona is reflexive; an extraordinary meditation on the self; a powerful exploration of the fears and desires that reside in the writerly conscious. It is an astonishing revelation of longing, of terror, of perplexity, of shame, of magnanimity. It requires hard work not to see this.”

in this way, the nonwhite becomes the site of a descent into darkness, hypersexality and power for white people. think of the way in which feyre's darkness is often times heavily associated with the nonwhite (see: court of nightmares). this sexy, liberated, dark woman using south asian culture to establish superiority while eschewing the people who are the originators of said culture.

but - really want to move this away from a discussion on individual characters and really focus the subject on sjm's role as the write. ultimately, feyre, aelin, nehemia, rhys...aren't real. they are reflections of the author's own internal dialogue. i actually really resonated with this observation/ assumption morrison's makes and that is:

“I assumed that since the author was not black, the appearance of Africanist characters or narrative or idiom in a work could never be about anything other than the “normal,” unracialized, illusory white world that provided the fictional backdrop.”

ultimately, i believe the racism comes from the fact that, although these are fictional worlds born from sjm's imagination, a lot of the racism comes from the fact that sjm is writing what she believes to be normal. and so - that's why the problem ultimately persists. violence against woc and poc are justified already. it doesn't matter that rhys slaughters hordes of illyrians because the assumption is that they're probably horrible, brutish people who ultimately deserve to die; nevermind, they could have had complex reasons, just like rhys. it's okay that the illyrian women are oppressed because...that's just the way things have always been. the only queen who helped rhys and feyre is humilated, murdered, and has her head shaven. we get one sentence about her and the story moves on. nehemia planned her own brutal murder, awoke dorian's power, and as a reward....her entire country is burned to the ground and the liberation of ellywe is delegated toward one sentence about maybe going to visit. , sorcha gets her head cut off (and its treated as a joke by the fandom) and dorian blames her for essentially being 'too fragile' or something like that. poc are already being brutalized in these stories, we're just positioned not to care.

and im not saying that ya isn't extremely racist - but i think sjm is by far one of the worst racist authors i have come across. not even ms. bardugo or aveyard or her other peers have this many racial problems by comparison and boy are there still problems even in those stories. like damn even george rr martin has like...semi-better writing (but he's actually another author that really exemplifies what morrison was talking about and id love to one day talk about that. but it woul take me quite awhile. i do like like asoiaf obvi, but it just has a lot of problems that i cant ignore). lmaooo even armentrout made some attempt to rectify her representation issue and thats saying a lot.

[shalscumbunny]

hi! I was wondering if you could write a fanfic abt yandere! shalnark having his s/o kidnapped (again🌚) and placed in a glass cage? Kinda..like the one Melanie Martinez had in her music video ‘detention’ with the whole performing for other ppl kinda deal?

Glass cage | Shalnark x Fem!Reader

Summary: Shalnark has captured his beloved, but apart from having her all to himself, he can't help but show her off as his beautiful and perfect possession to others.

Pairing: Shalnark X Female!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapped reader, doped and drugged reader, manipulation, glass box, clothing and imposed way of life.

Author’s note: I always mention it in all my writings in English, but better safe than sorry, English is not my native language so it is very likely to find many mistakes and also that I know practically nothing about writing “X character and Y/N”

Sites: AO3

You were poorly unconscious in that state, the drugs and narcotics in your blood made you have a totally altered perception of reality, although apparently, it was only a matter of a couple of hours before you were completely conscious again.

Your breathing was slightly labored and the only thing you saw clearly was that you were still in that glass cage, the second thing you saw through the glass was him.

Shalnark let out a sickly, infatuated smile when your gaze met his, completely enraptured by your image and presence, simply in his eyes you possessed unparalleled beauty, but at the same time you were a fragile and extremely precious porcelain doll, explicitly... HIS LITTLE AND PERFECT PORCELAIN DOLL.

You looked like a doll straight out of the factory, thanks to the fact that he usually chose your clothes, which made you look like a Victorian ballet dancer, extremely docile and graceful, although unfortunately he had to accept certain aspects of you, that he considered to be “factory defects.”

When the drug left your body, you would return to having that “rebellious” and disrespectful attitude, and he hated it, since it prevented him from showing you off to others.

However, the glass cage around you allowed him to show you off to the world as his and at the same time no one other than him could ever possess you, since he was the one who possessed the only key that opened the cage.

“Just one more show… You can rest soon, darling” He said kindly “Now just do what you do best”

Shalnark smiled listening to the expectant murmurs of the people, people who thought that all this was just a kind of dance mixed with theater, people who ignored that there was literally a kidnapped and drugged person in that cage, forced to entertain them.

“Everyone wants to see you, love…”

Minutes later, the stage curtain opened, leaving you in full view of the people sitting in the seats, most of them marveling at the style of your clothing and others by your “excellent performance”, playing a dancer in a cage.

The light had momentarily blinded you when the curtain opened, but soon the record player began to play music, the light melody reaching your ears, making your limbs and body coordinate so that you could start dancing.

You moved with a sensual and soft grace, but it was not that kind of obscene sensuality, Shalnark reserved those types of shows for himself, in the eyes of the spectators, the sensuality of your movements was attractive and innocent, combined with your lost gaze. You really seemed like a doll moved by strings, oblivious to the world, oblivious to people, belonging to an owner who gave them the joy of being able to witness your existence.

Your dance practically hypnotized everyone and that allowed the most discreet and fastest members of the Gen'ei Ryodan to steal at will the cell phones, wallets, rings and other extremely valuable jewelry from the wealthy spectators.

After a couple of hours, the show ended, the loot would probably be distributed tomorrow since Shalnark asked his companions as a personal favor that when the show ended, the place would be empty, that only you and him would remain.

Everything went dark, except for the place where you two were, so Shalnark opened the glass cage where you were lying, carrying you with great care until he finally sat down on an armchair and sat you on his lap.

“You gave a good show today, I'm very proud of you, you're learning to behave” Shalnark's smile was bright and real, his eyes contemplated your existence with absolute adoration

“My head…” You complained between small sobs and gasps

“Don't worry, honey. They're just side effects” Shalnark reassured you by taking your hands and kissing them

“I don't want to be here… I hate being here… I want to go home” You said weakly trying to get out of his grip, although it was completely useless, since your body was not at all able to try to face him

Shalnark sighed rolling his eyes and gently letting go of your hands.

“The same old story again… Can't you say anything else?” Shalnark scolded you as if you were a little girl. “I haven’t spent so many months educating you for you to say such ugly things to me, my love”

You didn’t even respond, you gulped as you saw how Shalnark had already taken the syringe with drugs from the nightstand next to the armchair where you were sitting.

“I don’t want injections, please” You begged between sobs, hiding in his neck like a repentant puppy.

“Then start behaving well” Shalnark said, patting your back and gently sticking the syringe close to your neck.

In a matter of seconds, you began to whimper and complain about the pain as the liquid entered your body.

“There… there… it’s over, Y/n” Shalnark left the used syringe on the nightstand and hugged you with both arms to comfort you “You should be thankful that I always inject you with great care, when I torture people, I usually do it harder and more painfully”

“I want to go home… I don’t want to be here… let me go…” You begged between sobs “I'm not a doll…”

Shalnark sighed in annoyance and frustration, roughly grabbing your face making you look at him face to face.

“I hate it when you behave like that again…” He said in a serious tone “It seems like you never pay attention to me and you only give me excuses to consider punishing you and having you in that cage all the time, is that what you want? To be in the cage all the time? I can do it if you want”

You gulped at the threat, tears running down your cheeks from the fear you felt mixed with how weak your body was, you were afraid of his falseness and cynicism, you didn’t understand how someone with such a sweet and kind smile could say all those things as if it were nothing.

“I love you… I love you more than anyone in this world…” Shalnark said, pulling you closer to him “Everything I do… I do it for your own good… for the good of both of us…”

After his last sentence, Shalnark kissed you softly, cupping your face in his hands, the tips of his fingers caressing your wet, red cheeks.

“Everything I do… is for us…” Shalnark whispered on your lips before kissing you again “The glass cage is your tower… when you learn to behave, I will rescue you from that tower…”

Shalnark kissed your forehead lovingly and then rested his forehead against yours, looking at you completely in love, hypnotized, enslaved and obsessed with your existence.

“And so… you will be my perfect princess and I will be your prince... and we will be together... forever...”

Thank u for reading, I hope you like it and what I wrote is good. 🤍

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 2/4

A Noah Sebastian x F!Reader One Shot Series

Word Count: 7.1k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (oral [f receiving], P in V obviously, touch of spanking), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) Thank you sooo much for all the support this story has been given. It was never was supposed to be more than a one shot, but after all the excitement behind it, I've decided to make it into a short series! I'm going to try to keep it at four parts, just to show the lore behind the characters and also maybe why it's happening...if I can make my brain create such things. ( 2 ) PLEASE suspend all thoughts of how time works when reading this. Time is pretty much just NOT a thing in Noah's realm. It's nonlinear and I refuse to be tied down by it! Also, hopefully the context clues are obvious enough for people to pick up on what time period the female character is from in each chapter. If not, feel free to hit me with a question.

Happy reading! xoxo

“The Dark Lord will be pleased with this one.” 

An unknown voice sounded out around you, immediately sending a chill down your spine. You heard yourself expel a whimper of fear as your hands responded by trembling in their bindings. The man must've noticed this because a sadistic sounding laugh rang out, echoing through wherever you were and reverberating in your ears. 

How long had you been tied down to this slab of rock? It easily could've only been hours, though it felt like days. Weeks. An eternity. Nothing felt longer than waiting for your impending death. 

“Please…” you pleaded in a soft and broken voice. “Let me go and I will make sure no harm comes of you.” 

The men again cackled, the kind that you were sure had them gripping their bellies and arching back. Maybe it was a good thing you couldn't see their dirty faces and broken teeth taunting you. That would never be the last thing you'd want anyone to have to witness before their untimely demise. 

“The blade. Now.”

Something cool pressed to your chest and immediately forced a slight gasp out of you. Again, you began to tear up and pull at your restraints, although you had no idea what you would do if you happened to free yourself. The noises you had picked up on told you that there were more than two people there, and after so long without food or water, you'd never be able to take them. You were doomed one way or the other. 

As the blade traveled downwards, it was made to puncture and rip the bodice of your dress. Another set of hands tugged the thin fabric to further open it, revealing your bare torso beneath it. 

“Please! Don't do this!” You cried, now feeling shame from being so exposed. 

How horrible was it that you were briefly only concerned about what your mother and father would say of this? They'd scold you, hissing words of how it wasn't very ‘lady like’ and that ‘no man would want you now’. You would be the ‘shamed whore’ of your village. 

Before those thoughts could lead with any traction, the sound of faint chanting snapped you from your own thoughts. It started as a whispering and ever so slowly began working its way higher and higher with every repeated line. Unfortunately, you couldn't make out any of the words. It was possible that it was in another language, though also likely that your sobs took the forefront of the focus. 

As the volume grew, so did your fear. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, a cool sweat forming across your chest and along the back of your neck. It was not being able to see what was happening that was also truly terrifying. Your captors had blind folded you after securing you down, this being the last time you saw any of their faces. It had been days of darkness - if not longer. 

The chanting had started increasing in pace. Voices roared all around you and you could sense someone probably just within your reach (had your hands been free) but they had yet to do or say anything. You sobbed beneath your blindfold, the ropes holding you down rubbing your poor wrists raw from how you had been desperately trying to pull them free. They burned with every motion, and you were sure blood had been coating them since day one. Not that anyone around cared enough to take note. 

“Please!” You yelled again, the single worded plea broken from your constant waterfall of tears. You swore you even heard another chuckle from right beside you. 

“Send our love to the Dark Lord.” 

A fierce pain punctuated his final statement as the blade ripped through your chest. You screamed in terror, just for the blade to be retrieved and then forced through skin, muscle, bone, again and again until you were nothing but a husk of who you had once been. 

× × ×

Piercing eyes stared at you from across the long table, silently watching every move you made, no matter how small. You could feel the weight of his gaze despite having told him before how uncomfortable it made you - this had shocked him into a brief silence - but it obviously hadn't been important enough information for him to retain. 

As you reached for your glass of wine, he did the same. His motions mirrored yours when you both took a swallow from the glass, followed by another, then another - the third being a mere test to see if he would or not. 

“Stop.” 

The demand left you with an irritated sigh, your wine glass then being loudly placed back to the table top. He chose to do the opposite, instead opting to lightly set his own glass down in a more respectable manner. 

“Stop what?” 

Your eyes narrowed at him, lips pressed tight together to showcase to him just how completely and utterly annoying he was. Ever since your arrival, he had done nothing but get under your skin day after day, night after night, second after second. 

Maybe you really were in Hell. 

“I'm going back to my quarters.” 

You weren't going to do this with him again. It had become an every encounter sort of thing at this point - both of you engaging in an argument until you finally stomped off or he dismissed you before you ‘fell victim to his true nature’. How in the world were you supposed to live like this? For how long? Every time you’d yell this inquiry at him, he would only smile like he knew a secret you didn't. 

Dropping your napkin to your plate, you were just about to push away from the table when his voice halted your every movement. 

“Sit back down now. I haven't excused you.” 

There was a sternness to his demand that you had yet to hear from him prior. It shook you to your core…in a way you hadn't expected. 

There was a brief pause as you stared at him. You were silently debating with yourself as to whether or not you should listen, weighing the options. Since you had nowhere to go where he couldn't find you, you did as he requested. 

“Maybe I've gone about this the wrong way. Maybe I've been too nice. Too lenient. Too patient. Since those approaches don't appear to be working, we're going to switch up to the way I prefer things.” 

The man you knew as Noah slowly stood from his chair. Those eyes of his never broke from yours, not even as he placed his palms on the table top and leaned forward a bit to assert only an ounce of his dominance. You wanted to say it didn't make you want to cower in a corner, but it did. 

Or maybe take your clothes off…

“You are here in my domain. Do you know what that means?” 

Noah's eyebrows raised when he paused, though you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. He already had one of his own loaded and ready to go. 

“It means I'm the fucking King and it would be in your best interest to not disobey me.”

You thought it would end there. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. 

But wait…what was this new sensation you were beginning to feel? It was warm and tingly…quite different from any you had experienced before, both when dead or alive. 

“It doesn't matter to me that it's you. You are still required to make sure I remain pleased.” 

This caught your curiosity and it showed in the way your own brows pulled together ever so slightly. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that you listen to m-”

“No, the first part.” 

You could see the way his features softened when he realized what he had said. Was this one of those secrets he always seemed to be keeping from you? Obviously. The issue was that you had no clue what it meant. 

“For the love of Go-!” Noah paused before he could get the entire saying out, his jaw clenching and face reddening as if it would truly pain him to say the words. With a deep exhale through his nose, he stood to his full height and raked his fingers roughly through his hair. He was frustrated, though something told you that it wasn't all because of your defiant behavior. 

The anger he held was bubbling to the surface and forcing him to lose his composure. He growled as he latched onto the chair and sent it hurling to the ground, followed by the glass of wine he had previously been nursing. Both became shattered pieces that would be impossible to repair. 

“Why do you not remember yet?! Is this some cruel joke you're playing on me? Is that it?!” 

Before you could even blink he was in front of you. He had forced your chair out a bit, enough for him to wedge himself in front of it to prevent you from escaping. His tattooed hands firmly grasped at the arms of the chair, intense eyes level with your own. 

You weren't frightened of him. You had endured the wrath of more vile men many times in the past, your father being one of them, so this temper tantrum of his did not register as a threat. 

Plus, you were already dead. What more could he do to you? 

“I need you to remember.” 

These words were spoken in a much softer tone, almost like he was begging you. Pleading. The pain was clear in his eyes and for some reason this hurt you as well. Why did you care about his feelings? Why did you want to make him feel better? Never during any of your previous altercations had you felt this way. 

“I'm sorry…I don't know how…I don't understand…”

Noah appeared crushed. You swore you could hear the sound of his heart breaking; that's how deep his emotions ran along his features. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his head bowed to keep his face hidden. The hands that had once been gripping the arms of the chair fell to your covered knees, now grasping tight to you in any way he could. 

“Please…try for me? There's a part of you that would do anything for me, just as I would do for you.” 

Although his words continued to confuse you, they didn't disturb you or make you uncomfortable as they previously had. There was even a fraction of you that believed him…which only made you want to try as he was requesting. 

Maybe he could sense this, because you felt one of his hands fall and begin lightly tracing along your ankle. The other remained on your knee, still clutching tight. 

“Close your eyes…will yourself to remember…I know you can.” 

There was a flicker of something behind your closed eyes, almost like a thought. Maybe a memory. You weren't too sure because the scene clip was foreign and not anything you had ever experienced in your living life. All that was familiar within the abrupt flash were his eyes and the way they devoured you. 

“That…what was that?” 

Noah’s hand cradled your cheek, his touch immediately causing you to open your eyes and connect with his own. There was now a hopeful gleam within them, so much that you swore you even saw his lips threatening to turn up into a smile. 

“Did you remember something? Tell me.”

All you could do was slowly shake your head. Even if you wanted to tell him what the brief image had been, you knew you wouldn't be able to put it into words. It was like trying to describe a color to someone that they would never see for themselves. An impossible task to say the least. 

Without another word, you quickly pushed him away from you and stood from your chair. Noah was stunned by your actions but made no move to stop you from running away, not like you had expected him to. As you exited the dining room, all you heard behind you was the sound of more glass breaking and Noah’s pained yells. 

× × ×

Sleep eventually took over you that night, though it hadn't come easy. To bring forth this needed unconsciousness, you had to think of the images from earlier and imagine what scenario it was attached to. 

It took place in an unknown room, though you could assume this room was in the same domain you currently were held in. The decor was the same, the walls and lighting giving this away. It wasn't your current room, though, but somewhere a little more lived in. It was comfortable, if you were being honest. Almost as comfortable as the bed you were laid out over in this flash of images. 

There was a warmth that accompanied them, one that you were only barely accustomed to. You had experienced it before during your living existence when you had hiked your dress up to your hips and buried your fingers between your thighs - these moments were fleeting and only happened enough times for you to count on one hand. 

Although, it wasn't your hands that brought forth the unfamiliar but welcomed warmth this time, but something - someone - far more enticing. 

A pleasure radiated throughout your entire being in a way that had your body trembling and your voice crying out for more. You had managed to open your eyes long enough to see his head between your spread thighs, decorated fingers holding tight to you to make sure you remained fully open for him, all while his mouth worked wonders in ways you didn't know possible. 

“Noah!” You moaned and whimpered, his name on your lips only sending him into an excited frenzy. He groaned into you as his mouth secured around your clit, harshly sucking before soothing the nerves with swipes of his tongue that made your hips buck and your cunt clench in a desperate need to be filled. 

“You're so perfect…” he breathed as he pulled back just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside of you. The sensation was heavenly, as ironic as that was, even more so when his long digits dipped and curled within your dripping wet warmth. Noah stroked along a spot that immediately had you gasping for air and gripping tight to the already tangled sheets your body had become well acquainted with. The mess of linens told you that you had been at this for a bit now, and it definitely wasn't his first time admiring you from below. 

“Don't stop, please…” you begged, soft and gentle between your labored breathing. 

Noah happily obliged, not that he had any plans on stopping until he was thoroughly satisfied with your amount of pleasure. His wicked mouth returned to your clit, tongue swirling and flicking in a way only the Devil could know how, while his fingers assisted in bringing you right to the edge. 

If this was eternal damnation, then you would willingly devote the rest of your existence to it, to him. 

Just a couple more firm strokes of his fingers and your body was tensing, a pressure building so high that it literally felt as if you were going to explode. And almost as soon as the thought passed your mind, your body released - literally and metaphorically. Moans heaved from you and your hips writhed beneath Noah’s form, a sudden wave of pure heat traveling through you and coating his fingers. The bed became soaked, though Noah seemed less than concerned about this. He hadn't even let up on pulling your clit between his lips and forcing his fingers harder within the collapsing and pulsing walls of your cunt. 

You awoke from your slumber with a gasp, your body abruptly sitting up in bed. It took a moment for you to gather yourself, but you eventually noticed that you were alone and no longer in the room from your…dream? Memory? It was still so hard to say. As you made a motion to move, you felt a throb between your thighs, a deep pulsing just like the one your subconscious had just been experiencing. 

You thought nothing of it at first, not until you stood from the bed only to realize the sheets, as well as your clothing, held a wet spot right where one could assume. 

It only took a moment for you to change, though you left yourself bare beneath the sleeping gown with not even the top tied securely. There was no reason for you to waste time with it when there was one thing on your mind now. 

After a few wrong turns and having to backtrack more than you'd like to admit, you finally stumbled upon the study where you knew Noah to spend the majority of his time. Sometimes you swore this domain liked to purposely switch up and change on you, just to make finding your intended location all the more difficult. 

“Stop lingering,” his voice called out after you had stood outside the cracked door for far too long. 

A small jolt in response to his voice being directed to you caused your heart to skip a beat, though you did as he said and gently pushed the study door open enough for you to slip through. 

“How did you kno-”

“Nothing happens here without my knowledge of it. No matter how small or…private.”

That's when his eyes lifted to meet with you, they focused in on your hips first before slowly trailing up to your own gaze. Something gleamed within his stare, but it wasn't something you were yet capable of putting your finger on. All you knew was that it further stirred a sensation inside you. 

“It's late,” Noah then pointed out as he leaned back in his chair, sights still locked on you. 

You nodded in understanding, slow steps being taken closer to the desk he resided behind. Instead of stopping in front of it, you moved around the side and only paused once you were in front of him, just within arm’s reach. You could see Noah's chest inflate with a deep inhale, his eyes further darkening at the close proximity. Had his gaze even flickered down to where your hardened nipples were evident beneath the thin fabric of the dress you wore? You swore they had. 

Speaking of your clothing…it was drastically different from what Noah always wore. His black on black suit wasn't like anything you were used to seeing, though your clothes were reminiscent of your time, unchanging from what you knew. How odd, you thought to yourself. This wasn't the time to ponder such things, though. It was just one more mystery added to the collection you were keeping note of. 

“I had a dream,” you finally revealed. A hand hesitantly reached out so you could trail a finger slowly beneath his jaw, a simultaneous step closer to him also being taken. “At least…I think it was only a dream.”

“A memory, perhaps.” Noah spoke up, his eyebrows raised. 

“Perhaps.” Your hand fell from his face and you swore you noticed a sadness quickly glaze over his eyes, almost as if he missed your touch already. Lucky for him, you had no intention of keeping your hands to yourself right then. 

Delicate fingers clutched the fabric that covered your body, now being pulled up just enough so you could freely move while settling into Noah’s lap. Your knees straddled him and his hands moved to lay atop the bare skin of your thighs, almost like a reflex. 

“Tell me what you remember.” 

A slight shrug of your shoulder caused the gown to fall away, revealing more of your skin to him. His eyes followed the trail of your neck down your shoulder and to your chest, just as he reached up to further tug the fabric away in a gentle manner until the swell of your breasts were shown. 

Noah had learned forward so he could slowly kiss along the bared skin of your chest. His hands traveled up the sides of your thighs, purposely pushing the hem of the dress up more, but not fully. He was then gripping your waist, slyly pulling your body even closer to his while his lips dipped between the valley of your breasts. 

“It's mainly feelings that I remember, not necessarily specific moments…” 

A question lingered at the tip of your tongue, one that you weren't really sure the meaning of. It was merely plaguing the back of your mind, leaving you curious for an answer that could possibly mean absolutely nothing to you. 

“How…many times have I been here?” 

The inquiry caused Noah to pause, his eyes flickering up to yours before he relayed an answer. 

“This makes five. Five lives…five versions of you…and this you by far has been the most stubborn.” 

This knowledge didn't frighten you like it would have mere hours ago. No, it actually made a bit of sense now, like the puzzle pieces were all slowly starting to come together. 

“And each one is me?” 

Noah hummed lightly, his lips returning to their trek along your chest. He was being much softer with you than you would've imagined, especially given the outburst you had witnessed from him earlier. 

“Same body, same eyes, same markings…” he punctuated this with a slight bite to a prominent freckle that sat off to the side of your right breast. “Even the same name.”

“So…where are all of the previous versions of me at?” 

A heavy sigh followed your question, his jaw clenched in obvious frustration. Having not yet answered, Noah swiftly picked you up and laid you down atop his desk after swiping the unnecessary items aside. There was a darkness in his eyes again, and you noticed that his previous soft caresses were becoming much more defined and needy. Witnessing this had your insides stirring, but in a way that made you thankful for wearing nothing more than your sleep gown. 

“You’ve been taken from me.” 

Noah’s voice was harsh, the words almost being hissed through gritted teeth. Apparently you had touched on a sore subject without even realizing it. But still, he began undressing himself as you laid beneath him, vulnerable and aching. Not even his growing anger was going to stop him from having you. 

With his torso now bared to you, you took a moment to take in all of the permanent etchings that crowded his skin. You had never seen such things before, though you've heard tales of tattoos and these being described as the ‘mark of the Devil’. Clearly your time wasn't too far off, considering who you were currently in the company of.

A hand grabbed your face and forced you to look up at him as his body hovered over your own. Noah’s eyes were as intense as ever as he searched within yours, on a hunt for something. 

“You aren't meant for this world but you are mine. I'll see to it that every death brings you to me. They can't stop me.”

They? 

There was no chance for you to inquire about this because Noah’s mouth was then on yours, all hot and desperate. He kissed you like his life depended on it - funny enough - like you were the only thing that could breathe oxygen back into his lungs. And much to your own surprise, you kissed him back with just as much ferocity. His taste was addicting and familiar, one that you wanted to hold onto for as long as you could. 

Even as he pulled back, you swiped your tongue along your lower lip simply to savor what remained. 

One strong pull was all it took for Noah to rip the gown you wore straight down the middle, his eyes immediately drinking you in. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against your heated skin while flicking his tongue along the hardened bud before sinking his teeth in. You gasped at the slight pain, but the rise of your hips to grind against his let him know that you actually enjoyed it. 

Noah smirked as he moved to your opposite nipple, displaying the same loving abuse to it. A warmth was pooling between your thighs and you were suddenly so eager for his touch that you didn't know what to do with yourself. Your hips continued to grind along his, desperate to feel any sort of relief, but the material of his pants were too soft and not at all what you were aching for. 

“Not so defiant now, are you?” He taunted, his clothed hips firmly pressing into yours just to further rile you up. 

“Look at you…desperate and whining…you must be remembering how good I can make you feel.”

Indeed you were, because never have you felt a need as strong as this before. Something in you knew just how mind blowing a climax at his hands could be and you wanted it now. You were so caught up in your own selfish needs that you hadn't even heard the sound of his belt coming off or the distinct ripple of the zipper being dragged down. When your eyes met with him again, he was fully naked and standing between your legs, slowly stroking along every inch of his hard cock. 

“Fuck…the things you do to me,” he murmured to himself, heavily exhaling through his nose. You watched in awe as he continued to touch himself, his hips pushing forward to thrust into his hand, even as he rubbed the head of his cock down between your folds. Noah’s eyes closed and his head tossed back, reveling in the sensation of you being so wet for only him. 

“Please…” you whimpered, your legs spreading more as if that would help entice him in. As much as you liked watching him get himself off, surprisingly enough, you were far too needy in that moment to have any bit of his stamina wasted on his hand. 

Releasing the hold he had on his cock, he instead grabbed your calf and lifted your leg to his shoulder. His strong hands now held your hips, the tip of his cock pressed right to your entrance since he had produced the perfect angle after maneuvering your body around however he saw fit. 

“You have to be a good girl and take it,” he instructed, his voice soothing but still holding an edge to it. 

Noah pressed forward, allowing only the swollen head of his cock to stretch through your tight walls that hugged him just as close as he remembered. 

“Say it.” He demanded, refusing to go any further until you had. 

You shakily breathed out, your heart racing and blood pumping so fast that your cheeks were flushed a deep red already. “I'll be a good girl,” you repeated his words, nodding. “I'll take it, I promise.”

Happy with this, Noah thrusted forward in a swift motion that you had taking every inch he had to offer. Your tight pussy welcomed him into your depths with a constricting pulse that would've made him cum right then had he not had an eternity of practiced self control. 

Noah deeply groaned, his jaw set and biceps flexed while holding you in place. Your own moans mixed with his, your body trembling in his grasp from just how intense it was to be fully filled by him. It was like nothing you had ever felt before…quite literally since your living existence had yet to experience the touch of another. You had only known a release at your own hands, which was nothing compared to this. 

“That's it…” he cooed the familiar phrase as he began his rapid pace of driving his cock deep into you again and again, forcing moans and profanities never yet spoken from you each time. “You're always so good at taking it.” 

Oh, how you wanted nothing more than to take all that he had to offer. 

The stretch of your walls were so tight around him that you swore you could feel every engorged vein throbbing when he forced himself as deep as possible. Noah turned his head so he could kiss along your ankle, the grip he had on your calf tightening just before leaning forward a bit. It was a good thing you were pretty limber or else a cramp would've surely ruined the mood by now. Noah didn't seem concerned about this, though. He was far too focused on the shape of your lips as you cried out his name. 

This angle had to have been created by this Devil himself though, because you could barely take a breath from how overpowering it was. You looked up at him with furrowed brows and nothing but silence as your breath caught in your throat. Every inch of your body tensed, though this had yet to cease his quickening thrusts. Your cunt felt too good, too warm, too tight, for him to let up now. 

“Noah!” His name finally erupted from you again, just as an unexpected orgasm took charge. Your head tossed back and your hips arched up as much as possible, your pussy now gripping his cock like a vice. Your walls were so strong that you noticed he was finally beginning to break a sweat. 

As the climax shook through your body, his motions began to slow before coming to a complete halt. He stared down at you, a fire in his eyes. 

“Did I say you could cum?” The question was punctuated with a firm spank to the side of your thigh, a sting radiating outwards that you knew you'd be feeling for some time afterwards. 

“Hadn't I just told you that you're meant to listen to me? That I'm the King and you do as I say?” 

Noah had shifted your leg off his shoulder and pulled his hips back until he was no longer inside of you. The loss of connection made you whine and pout because one orgasm hadn't been enough. You desperately needed more. 

“I couldn't stop it,” you explained while he forced you up, around, and then back down so the front of your body was pressed to the desk. 

“You promised you were going to be a good girl.” 

There was a bit of rustling from behind you, followed by the faint clink of metal that you recognized from his belt when he had been removing it not long ago. Your thighs pressed together in anticipation for whatever he had planned for you now since you knew that fleeting moment of softness from him was long gone. 

“But good girls ask before they cum, and you didn't ask.” The sound of something moving quickly through the air garnered your attention, but a mere second later a sharp sting forced a yelp from you when the folded edge of his belt made contact with your ass. The pain shot right to your core, your cunt clenching eagerly around nothing. 

Another crack rang out when the belt again collided with your tender ass cheek. You whimpered and writhed, your hands desperately trying to grab onto something to steady yourself but there was nothing within reach on the desk. While it did hurt, and the pain only worsened with each spank, you still couldn't help but to crave more. Maybe it was because Noah was now rubbing his palm soothingly over the red and welted area, or maybe it was because you liked allowing him this power over you. 

You held a power of your own over him as well, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Although now may have not been the time to bring that up. 

“Look at how fucking wet you're getting from this,” he mused gleefully as his fingers dipped down to brush along your pussy. He gathered the wetness around his fingertips after sinking his digits into you, though he only graced you with a couple of pumps before their retreat. 

Noah leaned over your body so his mouth was at your ear, his wet fingers forcing their way between your lips for you to obediently clean. Which you did without hesitation or complaint, even going so far as to moan softly at the taste of yourself. 

“Now, are you going to be my good girl or do I need to punish you a bit more?” He whispered into your ear while lightly brushing your hair back from your face. 

You could feel his hard cock between your thighs, teasing you with what you so badly wanted again. This assisted in you making up your mind, despite how much you enjoyed the punishment given. 

“I'll be your good girl,” you promised once his fingers were pulled from your mouth. 

Noah circled his strong hand around your jaw before placing a firm kiss to the side of your head. “That was the correct answer.” 

Gently forcing your body back around to face his, he was careful to then set you on the edge of the desk. You winced at the weight being placed on your abused bottom, and it was only intensified when Noah purposely grasped the exact area, fingertips digging into the welts. There was no room for true pain when it was quickly overpowered by the euphoric sensation of him thrusting into you again. 

Christ, if you weren't already dead then this man surely would've been the death of you. 

Both hands squeezed your hips as he helped drag you along his cock, maneuvering your body in just the right way so he was hitting every spot inside of you that had you gasping for air. Your mind was occupied solely with thoughts of him, especially when taking in how he was gazing at you. It didn't matter that bits of his hair clung to his forehead with sweat or that you could barely take a breath without demanding that he fuck you harder, because Noah was still staring at you like you were the only thing in this entire melancholic universe that mattered. 

“You're fucking amazing,” he grunted just as he pushed against your chest to lay you back on the desk again. This allowed him free reign to drive his cock at a maddening pace into your depths, his thrusts relentless to what your mere mortal body could handle. 

Did it matter since you were already dead, though? Were you technically a mortal still? So many questions. 

Your noises of ecstasy echoed through the study as your cunt throbbed around his twitching cock. The way Noah’s hips began to slow until he was taking long drags out of you, only to roughly thrust forward again, told you that he was close. You weren't sure how you knew, but you did. Just as you somehow knew other things little that would make him tick - both in good and bad ways. 

“You look so beautiful like this.”

You couldn't help but to smile through your delightful torment, your body already so sensitive from your previous orgasm and all of the other things Noah had made you feel that night. From his unmatched stamina, so you could assume, to the pain of his belt across your ass that made your cunt clamp tighter around his cock just from thinking about it. 

Noah must've noticed because he released a deep growl from his chest, his head now bowed and eyes closed as he continued his unforgiving thrusts. 

“Oh!” You gasped the moment his palm pressed against your lower stomach and his thumb made contact with your clit. Your hips jerked and your thighs threatened to close, but his grip on the one only tightened to a harsh squeeze to keep you perfectly spread for him. 

“You have to ask.” Noah reminded you, since he was well aware of what your reactions were pointing to. 

Your eyes rolled back and your teeth sunk deep into your lower lip, breathless moans escaping one after the other, making it nearly impossible for you to say much of anything. 

“Please!” You finally were able to pant out, a faint whine to follow. “Can I cum? Please?” 

Noah smirked at your obedience. The sound of your begging only made him drive harder into your core, his thumb still working against your overly sensitive clit. 

“Please please please,” the pleading continued in a faint whisper, this being all you could manage out now in a little chant of desperation. 

Instead of voicing his approval, he merely gave a single nod just before planting both of his hands on the desk near your head. He was leaning over you now, his hips violently colliding with yours. Dark eyes focused down on your face and you immediately knew he wanted to watch up close as you fell apart for him again. 

Your hands ran up his sides and back to clutch his shoulder blades, nails sinking harshly into his inked skin the moment your climax took over. Every inch of your body spasmed beneath his, your knees digging into his hips and nails dragging down his back in a way that made him sharply inhale in an almost hiss. 

“Oh my go-!” The cry was nearly completed when his hand covered your mouth, preventing you from voicing the final word. Though this didn't stop you from moaning in a continuous yet muffled fashion as a wave rushed through your body and your cunt hungrily tried dragging in more of his cock. 

“Fuck, you're doing so good,” he murmured in a low tone that had your insides melting and your orgasm freely flowing around him. “Fucking hell!”

Noah groaned as his thrusts became a little more sloppy before a final drive forward had him pausing as deep as possible inside of you. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed as he erupted, the vein in the side of his neck now more prominent. You couldn't help but to crane your neck forward just a bit in order to sink your teeth into it, bringing forth a moan from him directly into your ear. 

Shivers traveled your body from the overly full feeling of him cumming inside of you and filling you to the brim, his arousal mixing with your own and overflowing. Still, your cunt continued to pulse and flutter around his cock, emptying him for all that he was worth. Your hips even rolled up into his again, purposely working yourself along his length simply because you could and because it felt so fucking good to have him stroking your g-spot, no matter how sensitive and spent your body was. 

“I told you I could be a good girl,” you breathed against his neck while trailing your lips up in search of his. Noah chuckled into the kiss you eventually indulged him with, his brow finally relaxing now that you had stopped grinding into him and he could properly think. 

Lifting his head after you parted from the kiss, he gazed down at you to admire how beautiful you looked with your cheeks flushed and a post-sex glow setting in. It was the first time he had seen you appear genuinely happy since your arrival, and while he of course wanted your body again and again, he also wanted to see that as often as he could. 

“Don't think I've forgotten about how you acted at dinner.” His tone was serious only for a fleeting moment. Your eyes widened slightly, the welt on your ass pulsating as if to remind you of the punishments he could make you endure. 

Noah cracked a faint grin before dragging his hand along the side of your face and claiming your lips once again. He was then standing to his full height and carefully pulling you to a sitting position along with him, where he slowly pulled himself out from your drenched core. A faint whimper escaped you, though you quickly covered it with a bite to your inner cheek. 

“No need to worry about that now. I'll let you know when I'm coming to collect for your defiant behavior.”  

Well, that surely made your pussy clench in eager anticipation. 

Flexing and rolling his shoulders back, he muttered something about giving him a second and then scurried off, but not before making a quick turn back to kiss you again. As he disappeared, you took this moment to glance around the study. It was one of the many rooms you hadn't really been in before, Noah's bedroom included, because you always felt they were too personal for you to see. 

And much to your own shock, Noah never entered your room either. At least you knew he could respect boundaries to a degree. But now? Well, now you weren't so sure what sort of boundaries remained for you two. 

Taking in a deep breath, you lifted a hand to gently massage into the back of your neck, just as your eyes swept across the large bookcase that lined one side of the room. Something on one of the shelves immediately acquired your attention: a knife of sorts, a dagger, with rubies embedded in the handle. There was something very familiar about it, so much so that you found yourself slipping from the desk to make your way over to where it was displayed. 

“I wasn't sure if you wanted to remain in the clothes you're used to, so I brought that and another option…” his voice grew quieter as it trailed off upon realization that you were no longer on the desk. 

Noah's returning presence couldn't pry your eyes away from the dagger, nor could his soft demand for you to tell him what you were doing. Instead, you reached out to lightly trace along the sheath the dagger was housed in before ultimately picking it up and pulling it from the enclosure. 

“What is this?” 

Noah was by your side within seconds, his hand reaching for the item though you made an abrupt turn to step away from him. 

“I need you to give me the dagger now…please. Then, maybe, we can discuss just what it is.”

There was a churning in your stomach and your heart was now beating so loud that you could hear it thumping within your ears. You recognized this dagger despite having only seen it for a few seconds after your captors all but dragged you to your death. A multitude of memories flashed before your sights of this dagger in particular, although in many different scenarios and situations.

Your eyes were pooling with tears as you finally looked up at him, both confusion and hurt written all across your face. It appeared as if Noah wanted to say something but he remained silent, his hand still outstretched like you were actually going to hand the item over to him. 

“This was what was used to kill me, Noah. More than once. Why do you have it?”

[dufferpuffer]

It's really unfortunate that people look at Lycanthropy in Harry Potter and go "It's super yucky the author said she based it on HIV"... ...and then that's the extent they consider it as disability representation: A failure. An insult. The HIV shoe doesn't fit, so it's bad and should be ignored.

A comment from the Author outside of the books has so thoroughly coloured what is seen inside of the books in the dumbest way. When has a fantasy illness EVER worn the shoe of a real disability and had it fit...? Just because authors can be dumb idiot fucks doesn't mean the depth of experience they write doesn't have any merit, consciously or subconsciously - for better or for worse.

It's our job to be smart enough to pick the bones from the blorbo's we are fed - and to be delusional enough to treat them as if they are analogous to real experience, to chew out as much as we can from his narrative. That's the point of fiction. B^)

+ Remus has an invisible disability. (That alone is rare to see) + For multiple days a month he gets visibly unwell - Pale, peaky, weary... he feels off-colour. It heralds his worst symptoms. + Every month he experiences excruciating pain, the humiliation of losing control of his body, the terror of losing grip on his thoughts. Sometimes he self harms in this state. + For multiple days after - he is fatigued. All day laying down. Can't even sit at the table for Christmas lunch or do things he enjoys. + He struggles to keep weight on because of it. Any weight be puts on through the month is lost, leaving him thin and ragged again. ~~~ + The only treatment for his symptoms doesn't help much - and is deeply unpleasant (and a bit degrading) to take. + It's also expensive and difficult to get - he has to see very particular practitioners and jump through hoops to even have a chance for it, in a society that is hostile to his disability. + Even when treated - his condition prevents him from working to a schedule. He needs special facilities and support just to manage. + His poor health may lead him to run late on his work tasks, even when treated and supported adequately. + His disability makes him unemployable. He will not be hired BECAUSE of stigma against his specific condition. + His illness is contagious, which complicates how he lives his life and how he see's himself - as well as how others treat him. + There is rampant misinformation on his condition, probably equal or more than accurate education. Everyone has wrong assumptions and will cling to them tooth and nail.

Like this is is GOOD!!! These symptoms and situations aren't representative of any one disability but I bet most disabled people have at least SOMETHING they will strongly resonate with.

That's not even getting into the fact his mental health is bad BECAUSE of having to live with a disability without support - in rich ways that are allowed to be messy and complicated, that aren't trying to pander to able-bodied people so they don't feel uncomfortable... that don't smooth over the horrors of being unwell and knowing you will never get better and nobody will understand you.

Disability in media most of the time is just "This person lost an arm and the memories make him sad :^( don't worry though his robot arm is better than a normal one :^)" and "I use a wheelchair, and sometimes it can be hard - but all my friends don't mind :^) It rarely ever gets in the way, and when it does, everyone comes together to help me! btw I play a sport" And that's it. Oh sorry I forgot "Blind person but they have super senses"

Those tropes can be done well. But to get anything outside of them is so, SO fucking rare... so it is weird that when Remus has existed for over two decades as a disabled character with depth and nuance... He isn't discussed as he is a poor representation of a single diagnosis.

[zeltqz]

USED [1]

Ran Haitani seems to have some sort of fixation with you so suddenly, and though you despise him, you don't miss the way your strict father hates his guts, so you ultimately use him to get back at your father.

ran haitani x fem!reader

tags: (5.8k words) one-sided enemies to lovers, college student!reader, implied bet on reader, toxic relationship with reader's father, tenjiku ran haitani, i tried to make ran irritating as possible, but i love him too much, lolz, explicit sexual content: kissing, oral (f), implied blowjobs, fingering, exhibitionism; ran fucks you in a car park, alcohol usage, you work at a bar

author's note: this was based off a request from 🍉 anon (ps i love u so much. i had so much fun writing this). and as majority of my fics are, it's too long to fit into one part so i'm splitting it up....lmao

You know Haitani Ran from the way he walks into class late, unbothered, with a prep in his step, hands shoved into the depths of his pockets, taking his sweet time to walk all the way up the lecture stairs to his seat at the back right of the top row. The entire class sits still, women admiring him with flushed faces, whispering to their friends next to them about him, the boys spiteful, bitter at the reactions of the girls to his mere presence. Ran’s infamous, “Sorry, sorry for being late,” line is one the lecturer is prepared to hear every Wednesday. He slots himself down in his spot, which happens to be next to you. 

As someone who takes their education very seriously; it’s unfortunate to be stuck with such an idiot as a seatmate, always looking over at your paper to copy your answers, and if he’s not copying, he’s on his phone, playing an obnoxious game that’s quiet enough for everybody else not to hear, except you since you’re seated so close. 

“Did everybody submit the assignments?” The lecturer asks, disappointed in the way half the class sweat in panic, the other half nodding, a monotone yes , sir filling the air.

Being part of half of the class that bothered to do the work, you don’t panic, rather feel confident in your abilities, leaning back in your chair as you can spend the next few weeks relaxing for the final exams. 

It’s amusing seeing Ran’s eyes go wide, from the corner of your eye, at the mention of an assignment, his delusions so high that he’s reaching inside his bag for work he didn’t even know existed.  

You can’t help but scoff.

That catches his attention, and you stiffen up when you feel him look at you. 

“Somethin’ funny?”

“Yeah,” you challenge, turning to face him, meeting him eye to eye. “You.”

He does an excellent job at hiding his surprise, but you’re good at reading people, picking up on the way his head jerks back a little at your response. He chuckles, short and sweet, resting an elbow on the table, leaning his face on his palm and stares down at you. 

“Yeah? What about me?”

It’s probably the first conversation you’ve had with him since you started studying here. He’s popular, not just in school, but outside. Infamous for…loads of things. Just know he’s not a good person, the police know that, the civilians know that, the school knows that; yet they turn a blind eye to his antics. Is it his charisma? Does he pay them off? You feel like you’re the only one with common sense in the entire city, because you have a valid reason to hate a delinquent like him.

You don’t bother to dignify him with a response, rolling your eyes and turning back to your laptop. 

Ran won’t lie; he’s a little stunned at your behaviour towards him. So used to girls practically falling at his feet, kissing his shoes, fainting at his presence. That last one was pretty exaggerated, yes—but it happened once at a club. Maybe it was influenced by alcohol, or drugs…but it happened. For once in his life, he’s stumped, sneaking glances at you every now and then. 

You’re typing away at your laptop, getting started on the next assignment. Your education is something you take a lot of pride in, not only for your future self, but for your father. Overall, he doesn’t really care about you, not as much as your brother. The favourtism is obvious even though he insists he doesn’t exist and you’re just being dramatic . 

If you were to ask yourself why you’re spending so much studying just to impress him, why you’re craving fatherly love from someone who can’t give it to you. It’s been your only motivation to study, the thought of your father being proud of your accomplishments.

Ran’s stare is…distracting, to say the least. Whether you think he’s staring hard deliberately, or staring obliviously, it doesn’t matter because it’s still fucking annoying. 

With a hefty sigh, you stop typing, turning to face him. “Do you mind?”

There’s a sweet saccharine smile on his face as he leans on his elbow, looking down at you like you’re the best thing in the world. You shift in your seat, not liking how your body reacts to that stare, but keep your face stoic. 

“Mind what?” 

His smile only grows when you roll your eyes, shifting your chair away from him to focus better. Briefly, you look around the lecture hall for empty seats. There’s no way in hell this guy will follow you if you do choose to sit somewhere else. Not only would that be irritating as fuck because he’s probably found a new target to leech onto, but you’d automatically turn into Public Enemy No.1 if you were now labelled as Ran’s plaything . Eesh, even the thought of being that makes you shudder with disgust. 

Your lack of sexual nature is one thing you take pride in. Most people your age couldn’t go more than two weeks without sex. It’s not that hard , you think, but then again, when you have attractive idiotic men running around with their dicks out like the dude next to you, it is pretty hard for some girls to resist. 

Deep down, you know if you were more like them, you wouldn’t be able to resist him either. He smells good, always . A smoky signature scent that if someone else tried to replicate, it would be obvious who they were inspired by. It’s so strong that the scent stays lingering in the area even when he’s not around. A constant reminder marking his presence. 

For someone that hates him so much, there’s a part of you hoping he comes in everyday, just to smell him. As creepy as that sounds, you don’t go and sniff him like some dog with no home training, just a small sniff whenever the scent wafts in your direction. 

It’s not your fault, nor your nose's fault that he uses such a nice smelling cologne.

Either way, it doesn’t matter; because the lecture is ending earlier than usual; the professor had to go to a meeting so class dismissed.

As you pack your bags, you’re vaguely aware of him staring at you again. It’s hard to ignore, but you refuse to let him know that he has an effect on you. His gaze follows you down the steps until you exit. 

The following evening, you’re working your night shift at the campus bar, wiping down freshly washed glasses with a cloth when you hear his obnoxious voice behind you, laughing loudly at something his friends are saying. Your heart drops down to the floor when you realise he’s seated in your section, meaning whether you like it or not you will have to serve him sooner or later. With a sigh, you grab at your notepad and pen far too aggressively for someone that should be obeying the bar's policies, ‘always serve the customers with a smile !’ or the one your manager had reminded you far too many times because of your resting bitch face, ‘always look approachable .”

Yeah. Whatever .

It’s obvious you’re stalling with the way you’re dodging Ran’s table, taking everyone’s orders, smiling that perfectly trained smile you forced yourself to plaster on your face from the hours of 1700 to 2300 every Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday. Before you get to dodge his table once more, there’s a tug at the hem of your uniform, skirt flowing from the force of it. It’s strong enough to stop you in your tracks, but not enough to force you to fall over or something. 

Turning to face the man himself, your smile instantly drops, back into your unamused expression. It seems that no matter how hard you trained your facial muscles, you couldn’t force that smile for someone that doesn’t deserve it. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” He speaks questioningly, and you curse the fact that his brother has stopped talking, now directing his attention over at you. His stare is just as, if not, more intimidating than his brothers, and you feel a shiver run across your body.

“No. I just didn’t see you,” you huff in annoyance; an obvious lie that has his perfectly shaped brows wrinkling. 

He’s probably trying to figure out how someone just happened to not see him.  It’s not out of cockiness, or arrogance—which seems to make up most of his being—but as stated before, being infamous for doing all sorts of things makes him pretty popular in this city, whether he intended that or not. So it’s only natural for someone to notice his presence. 

“Yeah, okay ,” he’s scoffing like he doesn’t believe you. To be frank, if you were him you wouldn’t believe yourself either.

“Who is she?” His brother asks, taking a sip of the water he’s been forced to drink because a certain someone wouldn’t take their order.

“If I play my cards right, my future girlfriend.” Ran also takes a sip of the water, smacking his lips, when he practically hears you squawk out in shock. 

“As if ,” you bite out, clutching your notepad closer to yourself, deciding if getting sent home early for refusing to take someone's order and losing out on money is worth being here with him for one more second. “Now tell me what the fuck you want to drink and stop wasting my time.”

“Fiesty one, huh?” His brother looks over at Ran who nods his head in appreciation.

“Yeah. Ain’t she cute?” The fact he’s talking about you like you aren’t even there, or aware is aggravating. 

Looking down at the imaginary watch on your wrist, you click your tongue, sighing exasperatedly. “You have three more seconds to cough up your order before I abandon you.”

Ran doesn’t catch your bluff. “Guess I’ll be having a wonderful discussion with your manager then, aye?”

Yup, that does it. You poke your tongue at your cheek, closing your eyes and counting to three in your mind, facial muscles twitching in pain as you force the smile back onto your face. “Hi. What would you like today?”

Ran leans his elbow in on the table, smiling up at you contentedly. “Your name and number, please.”

It takes everything in your power to not drop the smile, but it already took the majority of your energy to put on, so you’re not about to ruin the facade even more. 

“I’m afraid that isn’t on the menu ,” you say that part a bit more aggressively, mildly gesturing to the closed menu pamphlet on the wooden table that he didn’t even bother to open. “Maybe if you look at it , you’ll see what we serve.”

He looks down at the menu, and his brother chews at the whites of his nails, watching the scene with a slight interest. 

“I’ll have whatever you recommend for me, and your name and number.”

“Would you just —” you shut up before you could get violent, closing your breath and inhaling deeply to steady yourself. Since your eyes are plastered shut, you vaguely miss the look Ran sends his brother, and how it sends him off into a laughing frenzy. “Look. At. The. Menu.”

He makes a show of looking at the menu for a new record of around .34 seconds, somehow already coming up with a drink of choice. “How about a cocktail that’s as sweet as you, hm?”

You know what. That’s good enough. Probably the closest answer you’ll get to the real thing.  “Sure, whatever.” 

You approach your co-worker behind the bar, tell her the drink is for Haitani Ran and watch as her eyes practically morph into hearts, doing your best to ignore her asking if she makes the drink well enough, will he fall in love?

“Do me a favour and pour vinegar in his drink.” You take a shot from the clean glass she just washed, uncaring of the way she frowns.

“No! Why would I do that?” Ai seems genuinely horrified at the idea, wondering if you know who he is and why you would want to prank someone like him.

“‘Cause he deserves it?” 

Ai shakes her head, mixing the drink as well as she can, pouring all her love into it before sliding it onto a tray, handing it to you. “Voila! If he likes it, tell him to gimme his number, yeah?”

“Cool, whatever.” You walk off before she could say anything further. 

If this was a plate of food, or a bottle of water on the tray, you would’ve slammed it onto the table, uncaring of the mess it makes after. But since it’s a very delicate , fragile cocktail glass, you fight back on that urge. 

“Enjoy it,” you say with the most monotone voice, stalking away before he could find something else to say. 

The rest of the night goes by quickly, and peacefully, and it wasn’t until you were closing up for the night, you felt those same pair of lingering eyes on you as you mopped under the tables. 

“How the fuck are you still here?” You ask, going borderline insane, looking over at the same table the two brothers have been occupying for the rest of the night. 

Rindou has his chair tilting back on its heels as he leans back, feet on the table, and your face scrunches up when you realise you have to do extra cleaning tonight. Ran stands from his chair, hovering over you, enjoying the way you don’t even bristle, or look away like most girls would. 

“Wasn’t leavin’ without your number.” 

“Then I hope you brought a sleeping bag.” 

You try to move to clean the rest of the floor but of course , he stops you, extending his arm out to curl around your side, pulling you back to him. 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening to me right now,” you mutter more to yourself than to him, the thought of Ran Haitani now leeching onto you as his latest target was annoying in itself. 

He holds his hand out, not saying another word, presumably waiting for you to hand your phone. You reach down to smack his hand away, but his reflexes get the better of you, gripping onto your hand tight in a way you struggled to escape out of. 

“I’m not playing these games with you, Haitani.”

“Neither am I.” With an irritating amount of nonchalance, he extends his spare hand (acting like he isn’t currently squeezing the life out of your own hand), and gestures over to your phone, prominent in the pocket of your uniform. “Number please . See? I’m even being polite.”

“How generous.” The sarcasm drips from your voice blatantly, but he either is too idiotic to pick up on it, or just ignores it completely because he’s so persistent on getting your number. “Fine,” you kiss your teeth, giving in, thinking if you ghost him it might be enough to decimate his ego to the point of no return.

“Yay ♡ ” He sounds as giddy as he looks and as annoyed as you should be, you find it kind of cute that he’s this excited to contact you. 

“Take it.” You hand him the piece of paper you wrote your number on, pulling it away before he could grab at it. “But if you spam me, I’m blocking you.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

Obviously you don’t plan on doing anything with him, just ignoring all his messages till he gives up and finds a new girl to leech onto. There’s plenty of pussy in this campus for him anyway, yours just happens to not be easily accessible. It’s not like he would have trouble finding a new target. Hell, you can already name fifteen girls in your Monday 10AM lecture alone that would drop everything to lay in bed with that man. 

By the time you get home, he’s already sending you a text that you ignore in favour of taking a shower. Your father looks like he’s in a bad mood, so the last thing you want to do is talk to him and provoke him further with your presence alone. But it seems when he’s angry enough, he’ll look for anything to argue with you about.

After eating dinner, you were perched up on the living room couch, enjoying yourself some pity ramen as you watch Love Island USA, engaging in on the drama before your father storms in; clearly irritated as he hears the stupid voices on the TV. 

“Can you turn that crap off ? My news programme starts soon.”

You barely bother to look at him, focusing back on the TV, more specifically, the shot of Tommy, 27, as the camera pans downwards towards his abs. It’s a bit annoying he had to walk in now , but you don’t care. You’re ‘grown’ according to his words whenever you ask him to help you out with something. You’re a grown woman now, what do you need my help for? Act like an adult. 

And acting you will . 

He seems offended that you don’t respond, instead drool over some dude on the TV. “When are you going to start acting your—”

“My what ? My age? I’m nineteen, not 34 with three kids. You should be lucky that I’m not out there, doing drugs, sleeping around, getting arrested like most people my age are! Because if you want that, just tell me. I’ll do it.” 

“They’re being irresponsible in their own way. What about you? When was the last time you even showed me your grades?”

“Because the last time I recall, you told me I’m a grown woman, so why should a grown woman show her father her grades, like I’m a fucking child?”

“Do not swear in my house.”

You take a moment to chew your food before cussing up a storm, spewing out every swear word you can think of. The argument escalates with both of you yelling at each other, expressing your differing opinions and frustrations. The tension in the room was palpable, and the exchange of your words became equally hurtful. 

“You never listen to me, Dad! You’re so focused on yourself and your failing business that you can’t see that I’m not you and I won’t sacrifice my happiness just to please you.”

“This is not about me ! What don’t you get?! This is about you being responsible and making something of yourself. Right now? All I see is a pathetic girl, crushing over men that are twice her age on the TV. You’re just being stubborn and selfish.”

“Oh, so you want me to go after real men then? That what you want? You want me to find some toxic asshole that would ruin me so I can come back home to you so you’d have some sick pleasure of saying I told you so ?” At this point, you feel emotionally drained, too tired to keep arguing like this. 

Your day was going well-ish , minus the pest called Ran Haitani, but removing him from the equation made your day overall a 9. Knowing your father, he would only continue escalating the issue at hand because he can, so you hand him the remote. “ There . Change the damn channels and enjoy your news programme.”

He seems awfully proud of himself, like he didn’t just verbally abuse his child all for some goddamn news programme. You can’t find it in yourself to walk out of the living anyway, so you both sit there in silence. The only sounds are the remote buttons clicking as he types in the channel.

As the news unfolded, the anchor mentioned the infamous delinquent gang known as Tenjiku, followed by the name you were all too familiar with: Ran Haitani, and a few other random guys he’s criminally acquainted with. Your father’s face tightens and he looks over at you.

“Those boys are you age, right?”

You fight the urge to say, yeah, want me to join them? , choosing to be the bigger person and nod your head in silence.

“This is what I hate about your generation—”

And here he goes again. You tune him out now, instead focusing on the news reporter discussing how gang violence has been increasing rapidly over the course of the last few weeks as many young influenced middle school boys are now joining more gangs. In the background, your dads rant comes to a stop.

“I’m glad you stay at home all day instead of being around bad news like them. I don’t want my child getting caught up in their mess.”

You sigh, not bothering to comment on how your dad is a fucking hypocrite, but realise that his concern stems from a desire to protect you. It’s a shame you didn’t care because you found your hands moving to your phone, sending a quick text out to Ran, asking him to hang out this weekend. 

Is it wrong of you to be using him like this just to get your dad angry? 

Yeah, probably. But Ran was most likely using you in the same way just to impress his friends, so in a sick sense, you were both even. 

Days pass by after the living room encounter with your father, and you found yourself deep in thought. One evening, you decided to take matters into your own hands, determined to seize the opportunity, you snuck out of your room, venturing to Tenjiku’s hangout location; just an abandoned car park. Ran spots you looking around the place uncomfortably, so obviously out of place, and hops off the wall to head over to you. His expression shifts from surprise, to amused, chuckling as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well well well, look who’s finally caved.” 

If it wasn’t for the fact you just spent the last fifteen minutes walking here, you would’ve abandoned the plan you made and gone home already. His cockiness was something you weren’t excited to entertain. 

“Don’t get too excited before I change my mind,” you say firmly, ignoring the flutter of nerves in your stomach when his eyes shamelessly wander down the length of your body. 

“I like that attitude,” he admits with a smirk, tilting your chin up with his finger, making you meet his gaze. 

Maybe it was out of pure shock,  but you don’t remove his finger, just let him redirect your gaze to meet his eyes. You notice how nice his face is up close. Regularly, you can’t bear to stare at him for longer than five seconds at a time, but with his finger keeping your face upright, it allows you to notice his long lashes, how they’re curved upwards almost perfectly, the faint splatter of freckles dusted asymetically across his cheeks. His hair…you refuse to comment on it, lest you say something you’d regret. But that aside, he wasn’t bad , and you maybe…just a little— (a smidge or a pinch) see the hype around him. His voice wasn’t anything to play around with either, and you’d think if it didn’t belong to an ingrate like him, you could successfully admit without a shadow of a doubt that you liked it. 

You seem to be oogling his face, sending him mixed signals because he’s leaning in, capturing your lips in a heated kiss that instantaneously sends a rush of adrenaline through your body. You were too stunted to push him off, despising how you’re enjoying the feeling of his lips moving against your stiff ones. It wasn’t your first kiss, but it had been a while since you kissed someone, so you were a little off. It was like he could sense your hesitation, your awkwardness, because his hand cups the back of your head, gripping your hair as he moves your head in the way he wants you. 

The fact you now know that Ran Haitani is a good kisser pisses you off because that was information you couldn’t care less about storing inside your brain. But what pisses you off more is the fact you still haven’t pulled away yet , and his friends are not even a couple metres away, smoking or whatever it is they do in their free time. 

He bends down to pick you up from your thighs, relishing in the way you yelp from being lifted from the ground so suddenly, holding onto his shoulders for balance. 

“Relax, would ya? I’m not gunna drop you.” He’s referring to the tight grip you have on his shoulders as he walks towards his car.

“You might as well. I need some sense knocked into me anyway.”

“That’s not the only thing I’ll—” He stops himself with a grin, refusing to finish those words and leaving you second guessing.

Obviously you’re not stupid , you have some vague idea of what dirty joke he’s implying. “You’re sick.”

“‘M aware of that.” He puts you on the hood of his car, laying you flat as he steps in between your open legs. 

It seems he misunderstood what you came here for because you didn’t come here for this, yet you still can’t find it in yourself to push him away, moaning softly when his lips crash down to your neck, sucking away at your skin. Maybe tricking Ran into dating you would do no good, he’s not cut out for relationships anyway; your brain tries to persuade you that revenge on your father isn’t worth your dignity but with the way he’s kissing down your neck, so sensual, you can’t help but clasp your arms around his head, guiding him further down your body.

He goes further downwards and lifts your shirt up to reveal your stomach, kissing the soft skin there while simultaneously hooking his fingers between the layers of your shorts and panties, tugging them off your body, placing them next to you on the car. 

Is it a little (just a little????) crazy that you’re about to get eaten out in public, on a hood of a car ? Yes, it is. But the rush of adrenaline hits you before you had the chance to fight it off. You’re aware you’re a bit of a hypocrite but looking down at him between your legs had shifted the narrative of your thoughts a little.

He kisses the flesh of your thighs, teasing you as he surges upwards to around your pussy, pressing a light kiss to your clit before moving back to your thighs.

Irrirated, and desperate, you call his name out as harsh as you can, only for it to come out as a breathless plea. “Stop messing around, Ran.” 

You’re not ready for him to flick his eyes up at you, those damn hooded eyes staring at you with a longing hunger. “So you do want this?”

“I didn’t let you lay me on your fucking car for no reason, Ran.”

His fingers dig painfully into your thighs, reminding you he has the upper hand here. “I’d like some respect when you speak to me from now on.”

“Suck a dick.”

“You will later. For now though…” he trails off as he  looks back down at the wetness that accumulated between your legs and leans down, sticking his tongue out to lick a stripe from base to tip, circling his tongue around your clit and repeating the shameless action.

You bite down on your lip, hard, in an attempt to silence yourself. The loud laughter coming a couple feet away reminds you that you’re not alone, and the last thing you’d want is for his friends to find you like this. Especially not his brother, oh no , he’s the last one you’d want to see right now. He’s the only one out of the group that witnessed your initial disdain for his brother, and you’d at least like to slither away from this night with a shred of dignity, knowing that to the rest of the general public that know you, you didn’t just fall to your knees for Ran Haitani. 

Your moans shift in pitch when he begins working you open with his tongue, wrapping your legs around his head so his hands are free, he rubs his finger up and down your folds, enjoying the way you squirm from the sensation.

It’s hard to stay focused on him, his tongue, his finger that just slipped inside you. It’s even harder to stay focused on controlling your noises when he curls his finger just right . He pulls his finger out, spreading apart your folds with two fingers, and licks you up, flicking his tongue on your clit.

He really knows what he’s doing, doesn’t he? Fuck, you’re frantically looking to the side, at the sound of his friends, stomach twisting in knots from the anticipation of being caught.

Knowing that your attention is elsewhere pisses him off, shoving two of his fingers back inside you without fanfare; you let out a loud moan, instantly covering your mouth and glare down at him, ready to hiss at him before he’s standing up, holding you by the throat to pull you forward into a sitting position. His fingers are still ravaging your insides as he looks at you, keeping you steady by the hand on your throat. 

“Focus on me , not them.” He watches your eyes threaten to roll back when he twists his fingers perfectly, curling them against your g-spot. 

“I—I ca—” He kisses you again, hot and heavy, not letting you explain yourself. Though you should smack him for choking you like that, you’re partly grateful because he’s doing a great job at silencing you, swallowing your moans down as his tongue slides against your own. You can taste yourself in the kiss, and it’s bitter , but Ran seems to enjoy it because he’s pulling away to kneel back between your legs.

You shift to lay down  against the hood once more but his spare hand grips your hips, stopping you. 

“Stay there,” he says, pulling his fingers our momentarily to tug your body towards him. 

You almost fall off the car, and you most definitely would’ve fell forward if he wasn’t steadying you. He shoves his face back between your legs, devouring your pussy with his lips and tongue, overstimulating your clit to the point of no return as he clamps his lips around it, sucking hard before you fall apart. Goosebumps form on the surface of your arms as he flicks his tongue against your cunt at a rapid speed, slurping your wetness hungrily. 

You slap your hand over your mouth, having to bite down into it to conceal your moans as he works you through your orgasm. Your thighs twitch and convulse by his face as he looks up at you, watching you fall apart. He shamelessly watches your chest inflate and deflate with every fast paced breath you let out. 

“So fuckin’ pretty ,” he stands, laying you back down against the hood of his car. He cages you in, kissing you without letting you catch your breath. 

Your legs wrap around his waist, locking him in close as his hand grips onto your chin, tilting your face up so he could kiss you deeper. He’s such a good kisser it’s almost humbling how quickly he can placate you with his lips alone. 

He pulls away with a devilish smirk on his face and you roll your eyes, pushing him away from you to slide off the car.

 “Don’t get all cocky now ,” he coos, wondering where this energy was not even ten seconds ago.

Your legs wobble and you fight to stand upright, but manage just fine, refusing to give him that much power over you. Grabbing your pants and shorts, you change back in shame, meanwhile he just leans against the hood of the car, watching you with a satisfied look on his face. 

“Nothin’ to say?”

“Take me home.” At least tonight wasn’t a total bust; you can still go home and have your dad see him bring you back. You can still have a little bit of dignity left.

He shrugs and fishes out his car keys from his pockets. His car smells just as nice as him, you think as you step inside, tugging your seatbelt on. 

“Where do you live?”

You tell him your address and it’s weird how he knows the city in and out, not even pulling out a GPS before figuring out the direction to your house. He parks right in front of your gate and you’re already unbuckling your seatbelt to get out. You’ve spent more time here than you’d initially planned anyway. 

Except he locks the doors before you could get a chance.

The irritation bubbling from earlier comes back and you’re reminded of all the reasons why you despise him. 

“Let me out.”

“Not yet, pretty.” He turns off the car and turns to face you. It’s amusing to him how you still haven’t quite caught your breath yet, still panting slightly as a result from your orgasm. 

“What do you want now ?”

He hums in contemplation, musing his thoughts over. “Honestly? To bend you over my backseat.” He sends a suggestive look over to the back and your lips part open in shock. Mainly shocked due to how shameless this guy actually is, but also because you…liked the—no. 

No. Moving on.

“Well that’s—uh—” You’re at a loss for words, mouth opening and closing like a fish, struggling to think of something witty to say and the smirk on his face has you wishing your brain was actually functioning right now so you could say something to wipe it off. 

“Looks like I finally broke that know-it-all brain of yours.”

“You didn’t—” Your voice gets tinier and tinier as he leans forward, cupping the back of your head to kiss you again. This time, he’s much slower than the previous two, taking his sweet time to work you open. His tongue sweeps along your bottom lip and you subconsciously hold his nape to tug him closer. 

He pulls away before you could fully get into it, eyes lingering on the swell of your bottom lips before flicking up to your eyes, looking down breathlessly at him. 

“Think your pops’ is mad at me.” He nods past your body, out the window revealing your dad on the doorstep of your house, looking positively furious, arms crossed by his side, waiting, daring you to step foot inside his house.

You whip your head backwards, eyes widening marginally at his face. 

You’ve never seen him that mad before….

“On second thought…” you bite your lip, picking your dignity again over your mental well-being. You’re far too out of it to have another argument with him tonight. “Can you take me to yours?”

“Fuck, ‘course I can.” 

i'll upload part two later this week once i finish writing it 👻

extra author's note: just a lil fun fact of the day : the arguement between reader and her father was actually one i had with my own dad😒 except obviously more exaggarated to fit in with the storyline. funnnnn...

[the-orion-scribe]

A critique of Northwest Mansion Mystery – how Pacifica nearly upended the show’s narrative

Note: This essay has been in the works some months before the Book of Bill release. But my opinion hasn't changed much, and highlights concerns from other GF fans.

This might be a little controversial. Don’t get me wrong, for first of all, I’m a dipcifica shipper and I like the episode very much. But every time when people ask around in the fandom (particularly on Reddit) what’s the best episode, Northwest Mansion Mystery would certainly be among the top choices. Reasons would, of course, include the darker tone and visuals, the mystery, the backstory, lore and, above all, the hints of a romance that kicked off the fandom’s most popular ship. It certainly scored very well in terms of the mystery and dark elements that are key to its popularity.

NMM certainly also fleshed out Pacifica a lot more, giving depth to what was initially a rather one-dimensional antagonist. In this episode, we are offered a glimpse of her family’s dark history and her struggle against their expectations. All of that humanized Pacifica, turning her from the stereotypical “mean girl” into a more sympathetic figure. This transformation was one of the episode’s strongest points.

But, unfortunately, as a Gravity Falls episode, it isn’t really the greatest. Truthfully I think the episode also had set false expectations of what was to come, and is rather reflective of the pro-dipcifica reddit side of the fandom and what they wanted more of the show, despite it going against some of Hirsch’s expectations and intentions.

Let me explain.

In my opinion, sometimes the fandom tends to forget what is actually core to the show. Yes, the mystery element is certainly one thing. But there’s another which doesn’t get talked about as often – the sibling bond in the show. What’s sorely lacking in this episode, and what many really overlooked, is the lack of any sibling moments between Dipper and Mabel. Ok, we still have the beginning when Mabel nudged and urged Dipper to negotiate with Pacifica three invites for the party, but after that, the twins went their separate ways.

I understand of course that Pacifica specifically requested for Dipper’s help, and Mabel might not be as attuned to the supernatural. But of all possible things the writers could have done with Mabel and co, they sidelined her to another romance subplot. Really? They could have perhaps made better use of her and her friends at the gala (some fans I've spoken to even suggested she could have joined with Wendy to uncover the ghost backstory). I can get the girls wanting to have fun, but I think it's a bit boring to fall back to some crush rivalry subplot. Especially after what happened in Sock Opera and her trying to move on from failed crushes in Society of the Blind Eye.

It’s actually a chronic issue not rather unique to this episode, I would add. In much of the first half of S2, while Dipper takes the lead in solving the mystery of the mysterious Author, Mabel takes more of the backseat and becomes goofier. This is quite a change from S1, when in episodes like Headhunters and Irrational Treasure, both twins worked together as the Mystery Twins and Mabel still considerably contributed in both cases. Into the Bunker is what I identify as the turning point where Mabel’s character and role regressed to being that goofy sister that messes things up (mostly by accident – I must add) instead of being the supplementary role to Dipper’s mystery-hunting. And that quite led to much of the fandom overlooking what actually was core to the entire series, and also fuelling a bit of the Mabel hate in the fandom. By pushing Pacifica into the spotlight and hinting at a potential romance with Dipper, the episode diverted the fandom's attention from this central theme.

The show quite elevated Pacifica’s character and her importance, to the extent that some in the fandom believed she would play more of a part in the show afterwards. This is rather implied from a few moringmark comics showing her moving in with the Pines. Understandably, this builds from the Bill tapestry at the end of that episode. However, she was never planned to be important to begin with, and she ended up playing very little part in the WMG episodes. It was largely only due to her popularity in S1 that she was given a character arc over two additional episodes. As Hirsch has discussed in past commentaries, he never even planned to develop her in the first place, since she was mainly a foil to Mabel, like how Gideon was to Dipper, but did so for the fan service.

Sometimes I feel like he cares about what fandom thinks too much. But as we've seen in other interviews, he thinks of himself as a fellow fan in the service of the fandom and not just the fandom god. Nevertheless, It’s great that Hirsch never detracted away from his vision of the show. After this episode, he returned the narrative to its original focus on the core mystery and the sibling bond between Dipper and Mabel, while drawing some parallels with the Stans twins.

This certainly left some fans feeling disappointed, as the character development and relationships they got invested in were not given the resolution or continuation they had hoped for. In many ways, this episode highlighted a conflict between fan service and narrative integrity. I would agree it’s certainly a missed opportunity to give a bigger part for Pacifica after the episode, but we already had a much shorter runway to Weirdmageddon. The remainder of the show barely juggled featuring Ford more, and so there was already no way to feature more of Pacifica or even build a romance the fandom so desired. The only nod to that tapestry in the show in the end is Preston attempting to make a deal with Bill, which, of course we know how that ended up.

In conclusion, while Northwest Mansion Mystery is undoubtedly a fan-favorite episode, it kind of stuck out as a sore thumb given it nearly disrupted the show’s delicate balance between mystery, sibling bond, and character development. This shift, though temporary, had some impact on the fandom’s expectations and the perceptions of the show’s later episodes. Nevertheless, Hirsch compensated this by featuring Pacifica more in some supplementary material in Lost Legends and as of late, The Book of Bill, to satisfy the fans.

Ultimately, Gravity Falls remained true to its core themes, but Northwest Mansion Mystery stands as a testament to the challenges of maintaining narrative cohesion while exploring new character arcs and storylines.

Check out more of my essays here! Feel free to comment and reblog!