#emergence fanfic

[zephyrchama]

Taking a bath with Asmodeus must be so relaxing.

The tub is filled with a frothy foam. It clings to your skin before slowly sliding off and plopping back into the water. It can be shaped into little sculptures. It glitters like white snow dotted with blood red flower petals.

The air is heavy and humid but not stuffy thanks to a fresh, fruity scent wafting up from the bubbles. The water is warm and toasty and you sink down to your chin to escape the cold circulating above the tub. Your skin feels plump and smooth.

Asmodeus pulls you into his lap and blocks you from escaping with his leg. He's playful, grabbing you by the ribs while he hums a tune into your hair. His thumbs small circles into your sides. He doesn't want you to hide that pretty little face of yours, but if you're that averse to getting out of the water, he'll just have to keep you within arm's reach.

With your movement limited, you do the only thing you can: stretch up to give him a foamy mohawk. He holds you steady as you brave the chilly air, droplets of perfumed water racing down your exposed skin while the seconds go by. Freshly washed, his wet hair is like putty in your hands. It's a rush job, but a fine mohawk if you dare say so yourself. Upon its completion you sink back into the bath. There's a sloshing noise as you submerge your neck and lean against Asmodeus' shoulder. His skin temperature is ever so slightly warmer than the water.

Asmodeus retaliates with a bubbly mustache to adorn your upper lip. It tickles your nose, which he gives a cheeky tap. Some sideburns would look good with it.

[blakbonnet]

emerging from a 100k fic battered and dehydrated like what day is it

[toxicanonymity]

Some Landlord ! Billy smut would be Perfect, if you have time. Thanks Tox 🥺

murderbait

BILLY LOOMIS x f!READER | 2k words | The Leak WARNINGS: 18+ AU where Billy lives and is acquitted of the murders. He's now your sleazy landlord. Gratuitous slutty descriptions. masturbation in public, detailed PIV fantasy, degradation, praise, banter and bickering, light enemies to lovers dynamic, manhandling, dom Billy vibes, sexual tension, pet names, "protective" Billy. NOTES: Sure, nonnie. I offer this sleaze with love. 🖤🖤

In the middle of the night, you wake up sweaty despite being completely naked and using no covers. Without putting on any clothes, you walk to your kitchen to get a cold cup of water, only to see a stack of filled ice trays next to the sink because you forgot to put them in the freezer. Ugh.

You get a glass of water and stand in front of the fridge with the door open. The air conditioner in your window feels weaker every day. It’s so stuffy in your trailer, you wonder if you’d be better off with the window open. Still naked, you go to the kitchen window and slide it open. No matter how hard you push upward, it won’t click and stay. 

“Piece of shit,” you mutter. But the fresh air does feel good. 

Standing in the window with your arms raised, tits blazing, skin glistening…. something moves in the corner of your eye. There’s a fake security camera mounted on the shed you’re looking at. At least you always assumed it was fake, since the owners are such deadbeats. You give it the middle finger just in case, then use a pitcher to hold the window up. 

You go back to bed for a while longer, then get up and rifle through your unfolded laundry, looking for a swimsuit. You find a bikini that appears to have shrunk, but it has adjustable strings so you put it on anyway. Next door, there’s an extended stay hotel that has a pool. It has a cracked and faded slide, no longer in use, and half the rungs are dangling from the pool ladders. It won’t be the first time you’ve snuck in there. No one seems to care, and no one’s going to be out at this hour anyway. 

The pool water is normally warm by sunset, but in the middle of the night, it’s cooled off enough. A weakly-inflated flamingo pool float sits atop the water, and a couple of pool noodles hug the wall. Half the pool lights are working. There’s no way this would pass an inspection, but sometimes it feels like barely anyone outside the area knows it exists.

You sit on the side of the pool, and as you lower yourself into the water, you look down to see your hard nipples barely contained by the shrunken, unlined triangle top, with some areola showing on one breast. The sight of your own slutty fit turns you on, and you don’t fix it. 

Kicking your legs out in front of you, you imagine Billy joining you. Billy and his dirty wifebeaters and trucker hats and jeans that fit too well. Billy and his slutty fucking selfies that you can’t stop looking at every night. Billy, and that look in his eyes like he could eat you up, if only he were hungry. 

He’d be hungry right now, you bet. You turn to your side and use both feet to grab a pool noodle, letting yourself off the wall as you mount it. Straddling the  pool noodle, you turn toward the wall and rest your forearms on the side and squeeze your thighs together. 

Closing your eyes and resting your head, you fantasize about him. He’s a low-life and a sleaze, and god he makes it hot. The way he moves, it shouldn’t be hot at all, but you’ve been watching him closer ever since he sent those selfies, and when scratches his lower belly, lifting up his tank top, exposing his happy trail, at this point it drives you fucking crazy. Like that’s where you need your forehead. You tilt your hips for more pressure from the foam between your legs. 

There’s not a single thing about him that says he’s a better guy than you thought, but maybe he is. Or more likely, you don’t care. Or, perhaps most likely, you kinda like him bad. 

He’s not the kind of man you’d want in your life, but in your bed? 

It’s so easy to picture his silhouette at the foot of your bed, scratching himself, then lewdly grabbing the massive bulge in his jeans. 

Your hips begin to move on their own, seeking friction with the foam noodle. 

You can see him kneeling onto your mattress, prowling toward you, arms flexing, chains hanging down from his neck, dangling in the air–god if you could feel those hit your skin. You can feel him grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head with one hand, while he unbuttons his jeans with the other. 

You reach down and slide the pool noodle against your front, grinding your hips. 

He’d probably lean in real close, say something cocky like, “you ready for this?”  Ugh, his voice. With his dick in his hand. “Think ya can take it?”  Yes, yes, please. He drops his thick meat heavily against your mound. Yes, please. God, please, you’d be squirming under him, wrists pinned by his hand, lifting your hips desperately.  “Sure ya can handle this big cock?”

Fuck. It’s so clear, you can practically smell him. Your whole cunt throbs and you’re gushing in your bikini bottoms. “Mm,” you quietly hum as you get closer. 

He’d shove himself into you, you’d arch your back and moan. He’d chuckle darkly, then his free hand would come to your jaw, dwarfing your face as he uses just two fingers and a thumb to squeeze your mouth open. The smell of cigarettes intensifies as his face hovers over yours, then he spits in your mouth. And he stays there, bottomed out, and you’ve never felt so full but you need the friction, you need him to move so bad, you need him to fuck you, you beg him to fuck you, really fuck you. “Yeah? Need me to fuck you?” God, yes. 

“Mm,” your face screws up. You're so wet, and your clit twitches as you rub the front of your swimsuit with the foam cylinder you're straddling.

You can practically hear him say, “Poor baby.” He’s got half a smile, amused and in control. “Yeah I'll give it to ya,” he begins to slowly retreat, pauses with his cock half-withdrawn and lowers his pitch. “Who’s your daddy?”

The tension snaps and your lips part as you see stars. 

Squeezing your thighs tight around the pool noodle, you ride it out, cumming to the thought of his girth stretching you with his gold chains dangling over you, hips beginning to move, jeans sitting loosely around his hips. 

You weren’t planning on doing that, but, there you are, coming down off that high in the motel pool, in your shrunken bikini, skin buzzing, so tired and peaceful you could fall asleep. 

And then metal scrapes against concrete, stirring you from your blissed out state. 

A shadow moves.

His deep voice at a low volume, with that edge of condescension: "All done?”

Your stomach drops. You almost don’t want to look up, but you do. It’s his silhouette, manspreading in a worn-out chair, with a cigarette in one hand and a beer in the other. The shadow of his stupid trucker hat hides his face. You let go of the pool noodle and try to subtly push it away, obviously too late. Frozen, heart racing, you’re standing with your chest above water. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand. 

“Don’t worry, I’m on my way out.” He stands up and stretches, revealing his happy trail. He twists in another stretch and god, his silhouette - his jeans bulging, clearly aroused. “An' so are you, c’mon.” 

“I’m still cooling off,” you protest. 

“I’ll bet.”  He drops his cigarette into his can of beer and carries it with him as he approaches the pool with his face still in the shadow of his hat. Light reflects off his gold chains. 

You make a fake effort to adjust your top and can’t take your eyes off his jeans. He adjusts himself and stands there giving you a moment. 

Then he loses patience and says, “Alright, sugartits. Let’s go.” 

He squats down and grabs you by the arm. 

“Hey,” you protest as he starts to manhandle you toward the shallow stairs. “Alright, alright. Damn”

When you’re out of the pool, he looks you up and down. You feel like covering yourself up, but you defiantly stand with your hands on your hips. 

“Tryin’ to turn tricks out here?” He slowly steps toward you and his eyes are glued to your chest. “Good place to do it….prolly make a few hooker friends too.” 

“How many of’em have you fucked?” you retort. 

He ignores the question and reaches for your chest. 

Without blocking his hand, you look down and part of your nipple is showing again. He “fixes” your suit, tugging it over and thumbing your nipple while he’s at it. It covers your areola but leaves underboob. 

“There ya go.” 

He puts a toothpick in his mouth and motions for you to lead the way. 

As you exit the pool area dripping wet, you mention, “If you’re gonna spy on me, you could bring me a towel next time.” 

“Yeah, okay,” He mumbles with the toothpick at the corner of his mouth. “Just lookin’ out for ya’s all.” 

“I don’t remember asking you to.”

He pulls the tab off his beer can and it replaces the cigarette that had been between his fingers. He throws the can into a bush.

As you reach the trailer park property line, he throws his toothpick into the shrubs and lowers his voice. “Listen sugar, there’s some shady fuckin’ characters over there.” 

You scoff. “Apparently so.” you shoot him a look and can’t help but check him out while you’re at it. A harsh floodlight highlights the freckles on his big, tan shoulders. 

He keeps on, “You tryin’ to get stabbed?” 

“What?”

“Dumb as hell, sneakin’ over there, middle’a the night.” 

Somehow, this makes you feel stupid. Like if he’s calling someone dumb... Damn. 

You walk the rest of the way to your trailer in silence with him following slightly behind you. 

“Lemme guess, ya left it unlocked, too,” he mutters, then opens your door himself. “Fuckin’ murderbait over here,” he grumbles.

He stands with his back to the open door and waits, making your body brush his as you walk in. 

Full body goosebumps. 

He stands there looking at you, and you eye his pants. Slowly, he steps into your personal space, and you back up almost to the nearest wall, but not against it. There, you stop. Letting him close. With his hand on the wall, he effectively traps you, blocking you from going any further into your trailer.

The smell of Newports fills your nostrils. He wets his lips and looks from your eyes to your chest, then  your mouth. 

He brings his nose to your neck and barely grazes you as he takes a long sniff. His nose brushes your cheek, and his lips follow. Just above a whisper, he warns, “Don’t do it again.” 

When you don’t answer, he pulls back and his hand comes to your neck. He’s gentle, not applying any pressure, but the presence of his large, strong hand is enough to feel like a threat. One that makes you more turned on than scared. “Got it?” he asks, looking at your mouth. Can’t be sure if he’s talking about going over there alone or leaving your trailer unlocked, and it doesn’t really matter. His eyes are wild, and it’s like he’s inspecting you, marveling at your face. 

You whisper, “Yes sir,” and await his next move. 

He takes his hand from your neck and cups your cheek to whisper, “Good girl.” 

You could actually melt.

He gives your chest another look and drops his hand, incidentally brushing his wrist against your breast before he pulls up his jeans. He bites the aluminum tab and turns to leave without another word. As he walks away, your eyes are drawn to a glock sticking out of the back of his pants. 

He looks back at you and winks before shutting the door behind himself.  

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Thank you for reading! I appreciate your interest and engagement with him so much.

Please take care of yourselves ♥️

[gpcwsl]

leah x r!walti if you could please. the way leah said lia waltis name in the new arsenal video 🥵

Leah Williamson x Wälti!Reader:

Always there

WC: 311

MasterList

Warnings: Warnings: Fluff, Secret Relationship, Mild Blushing/Embarrassment, very short.

Song: You & I - One Direction

Walking out onto the training pitch, the morning air was crisp, and the sun had just begun to warm the grass beneath your boots. You felt Leah’s fingers laced with yours, the familiar comfort of her touch grounding you before another day of training. The team knew about your relationship—so did your families—but to the rest of the world, you and Leah were just teammates.

As soon as you spotted the media team up ahead, camera at the ready, you both instinctively let go of each other’s hands. The movement was so seamless, so practiced, that no one would have thought twice about it. Leah sent you a small smirk, one that you returned with a knowing glance before turning your focus to the question being asked.

“Who in the team would be your emergency contact?”

Leah barely hesitated before answering, her voice carrying that effortless confidence she always had.

“Y/n, no doubt.”

Your cheeks burned instantly, but you forced yourself to stay composed. The last thing you needed was to draw more attention to it.

“Leah is good,” you answered, keeping your tone even, “but also my sister, Wally is another good option.”

The moment passed quickly as the media team moved on to their next unsuspecting victim, and you and Leah walked further onto the pitch.

Leah nudged your arm playfully. “You know I’m always there in an emergency.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “I know,” you admitted. “That’s why I didn’t disagree.”

Leah grinned, a soft warmth in her eyes. “Good.”

And just like that, she stole a quick moment, bumping her shoulder against yours before jogging ahead, leaving you shaking your head, a quiet laugh escaping. It was moments like these—small, unassuming, but filled with something real—that reminded you just how lucky you were.

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴋɪᴛᴛʏ

...in which firefighter!matt saves doctor!reader's cat

word count - 350ish

“Pspsps… come here, kitty kitty.”

Matt didn’t expect to be up in a tree at 8 a.m. on a Tuesday, but here he was… scratched up, slightly regretting his life choices, and staring down at the unimpressed woman watching from below.

“Do you usually rescue cats before breakfast, or am I just lucky, Matt?” she called, arms crossed over her scrubs, her voice a mix of amusement and mild irritation.

Matt grinned, cradling the trembling cat in one arm, his other hand holding onto the branch as he carefully maneuvered his way down. “Only when they’re as cute as this kitty,” he said, nodding at the small ball of fur, who was doing her best to look terrified.

“Her name’s Mochi. And you’re bleeding,” she shot back, clearly not impressed by his charm.

He glanced down at his scratched arms, realising she was right. “Didn’t notice. Was too busy playing firefighter.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Firefighter? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“Hey, it’s a real job. You try pulling cats out of trees with nothing but a ladder and a heart full of courage.” He flashed her a grin, clearly pleased with himself.

“Right,” she said, deadpan. “It’s a real job. And you’re bleeding.”

“I’ve had worse. I’ll be fine, doc.” He carefully made his way to the ground, Mochi still tucked in his arms.

She didn’t even flinch as she pulled a penlight from her pocket, inspecting him for injuries. “You need to disinfect them and bandage them.”

Matt smirked, finally setting the cat down in her arms. “Guess I should’ve known a pretty doctor like you would have a soft spot for wild cats.”

Her eyes met his with a raised eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Her name is Mochi,” she repeated, then turned her attention to the cat, checking her over for any injuries.

Matt stood back, rubbing his sore arm. “So how’d I do? Firefighter of the year?”

She glanced up at him before rolling her eyes. “You’re lucky she’s okay. Now, let's get you patched up. “

Matt grinned. “I’ll take it, doc. Glad you’re here.”

creds to rose for dividers !@bernardsbendystraws

a/n: so whose kitty getting saved next. sorry. anyways. i dont love this but here.u go. sjkdfhsk omg i need to sleep.

taglist: @chrisspussygang @courta13 @snoopychris @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss @throatgoat4u @matts-girlfriend

[caitvicupcakes]

authors note — here’s some self-indulgent comfort with vi after a long day :) nothing special, i just love love love her and i wanted to write for her ! let me know what you think <3

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

it’s one of those days that starts off badly and just goes downhill from there. your alarm doesn’t ring so you’re nearly late to work, the coffee you managed to grab spills all over the floor (and your shoes), and the commute back home takes twice as long as it’s supposed to. needless to say, by the time you get back to you and vi’s shared apartment, you’re exhausted. you shrug off your jacket and slip off your shoes, eager to wash away the day with a hot shower, but a mouth watering smell detours your journey to the bathroom and leads you into the kitchen instead. there, you find vi. she’s so in her element, chopping and searing and tasting, that she doesn’t notice your presence until you wrap your arms around her waist, leaning up to kiss her cheek. “hi angel,” she says, twisting to kiss your forehead, “it took you a while to get home, so i figured i’d get started on dinner. how was work ?” too tired for words, you simply groan in response. “long day?” vi chuckles, and you nod, face pressed against her back. “i’m gonna take a quick shower before dinner,” you say, giving her a squeeze before unraveling yourself from her. “okay,” vi nods, smiling softly at her tired baby, “take your time.”

when you return after your shower, two steaming plates of food - and your pink-haired girlfriend - await you. “i was thinking we could cuddle and watch a movie while we eat?” vi suggests, handing a plate to you. “sounds perfect,” you smile, gratefully accepting it from her. the two of you lay together on the couch, eating and stealing kisses every now and then. eventually, the combination of the warm food in your stomach and vi rubbing soothing circles up and down your side causes your eyelids to droop until they finally shut and you drift off to sleep. vi considers waking you up so you can sleep in bed but decides against it, opting instead to watch the rise and fall of your chest and take in the peaceful look on your face for a little longer, knowing that the troubles of the day were long forgotten from you now.

[untitledgoosegay]

re last reblog I do see fanfic culture pushing/replicating a certain model of "what trauma looks like," "how trauma works"

this is a problem across all areas of society obviously, but transformative works are, well, transformative. they're about crafting and modifying narratives where the fan-creator sees a flaw or a lack -- often for the better! don't get me wrong, I've done my fair share of "I take a hammer and I fix the canon," it's the main thing that gets my creative gears spinning -- but what happens when that "flaw" is simply a narrative not conforming to popular expectations?

some people just don't get PTSD from events that sound obviously traumatic. they're not masking, and they're not coping; they just straight-up didn't get the permanently-locked stress-response that defines PTSD. they walk away from a horrible experience going "well, that sucked, but it's over now." some people do get PTSD from events most people wouldn't find traumatic. we don't really know why some people get PTSD and others don't. but fandom has an idea of events that must be traumatizing, of a "correct" way to portray trauma. you see the problems with this lack of understanding in e.g. fans pressuring the devs of Baldur's Gate 3 to add dialogue where the player character badgers Halsin about his own feelings on his abuse -- because he must be traumatized, and his trauma must fit a certain mold and presentation of sexual trauma, under the mistaken impression that anything outside that narrow window is somehow "wrong" and disrespectful or even harmful to survivors.

take, for another example, the very common trope of a traumatized character who hates touch or sex "learning" to like touch or sex as a part of their healing process. certainly that can be healing for some people; other people will never like, or want, touch or sex, because of trauma or because they just don't. the assumption that someone who doesn't want sex or doesn't like to be touched must be traumatized, must be suffering from this perceived lack, is seriously harmful -- to asexual people, to people with sensory issues around touch, and to people for whom healing from trauma means freedom to refuse sex or touch.

and there's a secondary trope, one that's slightly more thoughtful but ultimately repeats the problem -- that once someone has learned that their boundaries will be respected, they'll feel it's safe to soften those boundaries. once they feel safe refusing touch or sex, they'll feel comfortable allowing it on their own terms. but many people don't, and many people won't! many people will simply never want to be touched, and never want sex, and they are not suffering or broken or lacking because of it. the idea that proving you'll respect someone's boundaries entitles you to test those boundaries -- the paradox is obvious, and yet this is something i've seen hurt (re-traumatize) people i care for.

people are imperfect victims. people don't heal in the ways you expect. many people have positive memories of their abuse, of their abusers. many people hurt others in the course of their trauma, in ways that can't easily be unpacked in a 5k oneshot. very few narratives of trauma and recovery actually fit the ones put forward by popular children's media and romance novels -- which are the ones I most see replicated in fandom spaces, because they provide the clearest narrative and easiest catharsis, and so they're easy and soothing to reach for.

that's not necessarily a bad thing! i am not immune to goopy romance tropes. i am not immune to teary catharsis. not every fic has to grapple with ugly realities. but there's a problem when these narratives become predominant, when people think they're accurate and realistic depictions of trauma, when the truth of trauma is unpleasant and uncomfortable, and doesn't fit any single narrative, let alone one of comforting catharsis

[muffinlance]

EMERGENCY FANFIC PROTOCOLS: ACTIVATED

Hey while AO3 is down

Here is a GDrive link to all my downloaded fics (it's OVER 9,000 2,000)

Mostly Avatar, also The Magnus Archives, Danny Phantom, Teen Wolf, and a few others

Mostly unsorted, some not even intentionally downloaded because the auto-downloader I use is Like That, so consider this a glorified "give me a random fic" button

MAKE SURE TO KUDOS THE AUTHORS WHEN AO3 IS BACK UP

>>> Linkie link <<<

Edit: Note that when AO3 comes back up that link will go dead again... until it's needed, once more

EMERGENCY FANFIC PROTOCOLS: DEACTIVATED

...Until next they are needed

If you were going through these for fic recs, check out my AO3 Bookmarks for the more curated list.

To make your own fanfic backups, I recommend AO3 Downloader or FanFicFare. (I'm not tech support for either; please don't message me for help.)

Happy reading!

[justaz]

leon lets merlin mourn for five centuries before picking him up by the scruff of his neck and dragging him with him to all corners of the world until he sees the familiar spark of life in his eyes. by then tho, merlin has latched onto leon like a damn octopus and they stick together for years (bar the occasional decade or two when the two cant decide on their next destination and fuck off to separate corners of the world). leon teaches merlin how to be immortal and merlin teaches leon how to properly live. they do the pranks that last centuries where they get portraits of themselves done in various eras without changing their appearances and only slightly altering their names, they know eventually someone will catch on and try to convince everyone but no one will believe them. they meddle in foreign governments for the fuck of it. leon somehow ends up as president of the us of a. merlin starts a cult in south america. merlin was on the oceangate submersible (too soon?). leon started the great fire of london (too soon??). anyways they happen to be walking together past the lake when arthur emerges. the first thing they do is take a 0.5x photo of him.

[fishymom-art]

Hey uh, I'm once again asking for commissions and there's a goal this time, because it's urgent. I need to help my mom asap. I'm sorry.

The prices are going WAY DOWN! Any kind of Sketch - 5 euros Any kind of Lineart - 15 euros Any kind of Flat Color - 20 euros Any kind of Render - 30 euros

+ Character - 2 euros + Complicated background - 5-10 euros

Will draw: Mechas/Robots, Anthropomorphic Animals, Action Scenes, Stickers/Emojis, Suggestive Won't draw: graphic NSFW, Caricature/Offensive

You can also subscribe to my 18+ Patreon and donate to my ko-fi

Other offers: Fanfic - 2 euros/page Song (3 minutes) - starting at 15 euros depending on complexity Animatic - 15 euros/minute Tutoring - 10 euros/hour -> English (My level is C1, I specialise in writing and talking) -> Song Writing (Certified, almost a decade of experience. An instrument is optional, simple music theory included)

MY GOAL IS 1000 EUROS

Contact: fishymomprof@gmail.com fishytim2584 (Discord) fishy_mom_ (Twitter) fishytim (Blue Sky)

Examples under the cut with prices

New price - 32 euros (Full render + additional character) ((Previous price - 60 euros))

New price - 35 euros (Full render + A simple background) ((Previous price 65 euros))

New price - 7 euros (Sketch + additional character) ((Previous Price - 22.50 euros))

New price - 40 euros (Full render + Simple background) ((Previous Price 60 euros))

New price - 27 euros (Lineart + additional character) ((Previous price - 37.50 euros))

New price - 35 euros (Full render) ((Previous - 45))

New price - 41 euro (Full render + 3 additional characters) ((Previous price - 100 euros))

[small-sinclair]

Emergency Glass

Whumptober 7: Only for Emergencies, Prompt Idea

Lester Sinclair x Vampire!reader

Tw: starved reader, blood mention, hints that the reader was tortured

Prompt Idea: In need of Blood

When he found you, you were barely hanging on to life. Your eyes were glazed and lost in the murky waters, and your hair was tangled like broken vines from a willow. Your shirt was torn and shred from some animal he didn’t know; he’s never seen claws that big before. Whatever took you out and left you for dead wasn’t in a hurry; it took its time with you as if you were a plaything to its own muse.

Lester was gentle as he scooped your body in his arms and cradled you like a child. You were too light in his hold, and he could see the outline of your bones and veins under your skin and how they connected like a spider’s web. Your cold form shivered as his warmth kept you awake and relaxed. Your eyes fluttered then rolled as he removed you from the hellish waters and twisted tree limbs. You struggled a breath, and he hushes you like a mother towards a frighten child. In a way, you were a frighten child after the past few days in a hunter’s den. You were torn apart then stitched back together in an unforgivable fashion. You felt violated and stripped of what little you had left of yourself, of the line that separates you from monsters. Now, a stranger, kind and true, was carrying you out of the swamp and placing you inside his track with carefulness.

With the rumble of his truck, it roared to life, and he drove down the rough, beaten road to poorly done gravel road. The bitter smell of decay and dried blood was enough to make your mouth water, but you bit your tongue and clenched your jaw. You’re hearing wasn’t the best, but you knew the stranger was speaking to you. The voice was too muffled and quiet due to your ears ringing and buzzing like a light. Hunger was starting to set in, and it was burning a hole in your chest. You don’t attack humans; only animals. But the driver...you could smell his blood from under his skin and it flowed like a clear river. It was enough to make your stomach rumble and your fangs to grow. You felt your eyes change colors to a deep red. Even in his eyes, you saw your reflection and how it made him shiver once he realized who is in his truck.

Lester’s heard stories about what lurks in Louisiana shadows. He’s heard about the string of attacks in the cities and how there seemed to be a hive somewhere. Finding you out in the middle of the swamp after he was done setting up traps for gators should’ve rung alarm bells. But the claw marks on your body and the scratches that marked your body, making you look like a map of tortured and torn souls, should’ve made him run off for his shot gun in the back of his truck, but it only would’ve made things difficult. His hands aren’t as clean as Bo’s or Vincent’s, but it wasn’t as stained or darken by rich blood. It wasn’t as messy as the twins and their twisted artwork.

He saw you as a hurt deer, something that can be nursed back to health and let go into the wild after tending to your needs. He was Whatever called him to stay and help you...whatever possessed him to look after you, he’ll be as helpful as he could be. Besides, it’s his southern hospitality kicking in along with his nature to give a hand. He was always too kind, and it never scared him until the points of your fangs glowed in the starlight.

Lester swallowed the rock in his throat, his Adams apple bobbing like a toy boat down a rocky stream. The smell of his blood was intoxicating, and it drowned you in your own thoughts. If you had a taste, just a nibble, what harm would that do? He may be thin, but he had enough meat on his bones and blood in his system to serve you well and good. Only for emergencies, you bite humans. Only for emergencies, you feed off their blood and hang on their necks like a vise. The worry gleam in his eyes didn’t call you away or scare you; he knew what you needed.

The truck began to slow down until it stopped. He threw the car in park and turned off the engine, killing it with ease. He stayed in the driver seat as if he was reflecting what his next move would be. You watched as he closed his eyes and let out a soft breath.

“I’ll help you,” he said after a while. “I’ll help you, vampire.” His puppy brown and blue eyes looked down at you. “At least lemme getcha in the house before ya bite me, yeah?” When he saw you nod slowly, he unbuckles both himself then you and hops out of the truck. It wasn’t long until he was holding you once more in his arms. “You’ll be a’right, little vampire.” Why did the words make you blush? Why was the nickname repeating in your head over and over? “Les’ll make sure you’re alive after dis.”

Going into his house and heading to his little guest room by the back door wasn’t a long walk. From what you gathered from his little walk, his home wasn’t that big, but it wasn’t too small.

“Oh, I’m Lester, by the way,” he introduced himself as he laid you down. The mattress and cold sheets under your touch was soft like a moss bed, and he watched as your tensed body unfold like a blooming flower. “There you go,” he praises in a hushed voice. “I’ll get a rag; don’t know how long you were out there and—”

His voice trailed and stopped as soon as your pearly white fangs showed through your lips, plumped and bruised. Lester closes his mouth and swallows a thick, awed gasp. To him, you looked just as right as rain. A part of him hopes you drain every drop of him and turn him into a husk of a person. The way the moonlight laid over you like a blanket made you look like royalty. “Right, you need blood, little vampire.”

Lester lowered himself on the bed and awkwardly shifted you to be on top of him. He rubbed your back and turned his head to expose his neck until. You could practically feel it in your mouth even though you haven’t bitten down. You could taste it and feel it flow over down your throat ever-so-smooth and slick. His comforting warmth and slow circles on your back only made you feel more relaxed.

He almost felt like home.

Only for emergencies, you can break down and shatter the glass to that safety case. Only for emergencies, you can feed off humans and drink deeply in rich and sweet blood. Only for emergencies...just until your hunger is gone.

[gracefolds]

My HDG brainrot has gotten so bad that like, I was watching a video on horror and my fucking brain is like, "all the horror aspects of the affini in HDG are in service of putting the human characters in a much more vulnerable position, thus making the fact that the affini truly are benevolent and capable of unconditionally loving humans at their worst and most vulnerable all the more comforting." Like JUST WHAT HAS THIS SETTING DONE TO MY BRAINKJA;FLKDSAJF;LKASDJF;LAK

[oopsiedaisydeer]

ɪɴᴛʀᴏᴅᴜᴄɪɴɢ… ᴅᴇᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ!ᴄʜʀɪꜱ

…𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺!𝘢𝘶

laid-back and sarcastic, but always sharp. hates paperwork. cracks jokes whenever there’s an awkward silence. wears his hoodie to work. the first to get a case done. pizza and pepsi guy. a bit competitive. knows exactly how to push her buttons but does it with charm. title of your sex tape. being a detective has always been his dream.

best paired with: detective!reader

creds to rose for the divider! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: JAKE PERALTA WHO,, looking back this moodboard is not very detective-y but that's not rlly his vibe so whatever :p

tagging some people (sorry:>), lmk if u would like to be on a taglist! @snoopychris @bernardsbendystraws @blushsturns @sturnslutz @sturns-mermaid @throatgoat4u @hazedsturns @sturnsrecord @cowboylikenat @loverboysturn @sturnberries @applecidersturniolo @eclipsturns @mattsstarlet @desreads @sweetshuga @chrissweetheart @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @st7rnioioss @shadowthesim237 @emely9274 @sturnberries @bluestriips

cya soooooon!!!

[ladybyakuya]

updated my commission sheet with fandoms and selfship writing.

[yanderemommabean]

Hey Beans!

Due to not being able to afford my meds, I'm still open for my commissions! (You can donate as well but don't feel like its obligatory! It's appreciated deeply either way!)

I am working on other outlets for income, ya know stickers and such, but until we have the kinks worked out I can't rely on that solely for my medicine.

if you wish to commission, I have an info sheet available on the blog or I can answer your questions in private! I only reply on my discord however, which is the same as this blogs username!

Discord- Yanderemommabean

Paypal name- Kaylee558

[doumadono]

hello i hope you’re doing well、i wanted to submit an emergency request. i’d rather not get into the details but i have been going through one of my worst depression episodes i have ever experienced and i haven’t had the energy to eat or shower. i was wondering if you could do tanjiro comforting and helping a gn!reader eat or something along those lines? it be heavily appreciated if you do。

The hardest battles are inside us - Tanjiro x gn!Reader

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that you're going through such a difficult time. It's okay to feel overwhelmed, and it's important to be gentle with yourself right now

EMERGENCY REQS MASTERLIST - PART 2

The sun had just set behind the mountains, casting a soft twilight over the small, secluded house where you had taken refuge. The air was cool, and the chirping of crickets filled the quiet night. Inside, the room was dimly lit by the flickering flames of a single lantern. The tatami mats felt rough beneath your fingers as you sat motionless, your knees drawn to your chest.

You had barely moved all day, consumed by an overwhelming sense of despair that left you hollow and weak. The simplest tasks felt insurmountable, and the thought of eating or even getting up seemed impossible. Your stomach ached from hunger, but the weight of your sadness was too much to bear, and the last thing you were thinking about was having a decent meal.

A soft knock on the sliding door broke the silence.

"May I come in?" Tanjiro's voice was soft.

"Yeah," you replied simply.

"I brought you something to eat," he announced gently, his voice full of genuine concern.

You lifted your head slowly, meeting his kind, dark red eyes.

He knelt beside you, placing a tray with a simple meal of rice, vegetables, and miso soup in front of you.

The aroma was comforting, but you couldn't bring yourself to reach for the food.

Tanjiro seemed to understand without you saying a word. He sat down next to you, close enough that you could feel his warmth, but not so close as to intrude on your space. "I know it's hard," he began softly, his eyes never leaving yours. "Sometimes, the pain feels like it's too much to bear. But you need to take care of yourself, even if it feels impossible. You deserve to eat, to be nourished."

You looked at the food but couldn't find the energy to reach for it, so in the end you shook your head for no.

Tanjiro seemed to sense your hesitation and moved closer, but still maintained a respectful distance. "Can I help you?" he asked gently. "Just a few bites. You need to keep your strength up."

The sincerity in his voice and the concern in his eyes broke through the fog of your despair. You nodded again, more decisively this time.

Tanjiro's smile widened slightly, and he picked up a pair of chopsticks. "One bite at a time," he said reassuringly, holding a piece of vegetable towards you. "You don't have to finish everything. Just a little bit to start."

With his encouragement, you took a small bite. The food was warm and comforting, but it was Tanjiro's presence that made it bearable.

He continued to feed you slowly, his movements gentle and patient. Between bites, he spoke softly, sharing stories of his adventures, of Nezuko, and of the friends he had made along the way. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "everyone has their own battles. Some of them are on the outside, like the demons we fight. But the hardest ones are inside us. It's okay to struggle. It's okay to feel overwhelmed," his tone was soft like a gentle summer breeze.

After a few more bites, you felt a small spark of energy returning. It wasn't much, but it was a start. And by the time the meal was finished, you felt a little lighter, a little more grounded.

Tanjiro set the chopsticks down and looked at you. "You did great," he praised, his voice filled with genuine warmth. "Remember, it's okay to take things one step at a time."

As you looked into Kamado's eyes, you felt a glimmer of hope. It was fragile, but it was there.