#i have 2 more prompts i want to fill (one is already done) and then i'm going back to longer gemtho ideas

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gemtho prompt: Bdubs has had enough of gem and etho being Totally Normal about each other and is ready to smash them together like making dolls kiss…luckily Bdubs is a handsome tall genius and has a foolproof plan to get the two to finally just fuck already

I'm sorry you sent this so long ago ;__; I'm back writing more weird RPF threesome vibes!

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“Took you long enough to text,” Gem says, hands on the hem of her shirt, ready to pull it up over her head.

She makes it two steps into the hotel room before the man at the window turns and Gem realizes it’s not who she’s expecting.

“You’re not John,” she says, freezing in place, her stomach dropping in mortification.

She lets go of her shirt and lurches backward unsteadily.

The man looks shocked to see her, and she’s not surprised. She’s just let herself into his room without even knocking.

“I’m so sorry,” she quickly apologizes, taking another step away, feeling the door at her back. “I must’ve been given the wrong keycard.”

But Bdubs was the one who gave her the card himself. He’d kissed her in the parking lot, had groped her ass like he couldn’t wait for more, and had told her he’d message her once he was back from obligations and ready for a night together.

She fumbles for the door handle, face burning.

“So sorry,” Gem repeats to try to save herself.

“Gem,” the man says, and the twisting in her stomach gets worse.

But Gem pauses, knuckles aching as she grips the door, eyes fixed on the man across from her.

There’s a flush on his face, too, and it stands out stark against his pale complexion.

“Hi, Gem,” he says in a voice so familiar that she’s glad she’s holding onto something.

“What the fuck?” she asks, tongue feeling clumsy, too big for her mouth, and the man takes a couple of steps toward her.

Closer, she can see the earnestness in his blue eyes. She can also see how he has a few freckles across his face, how he has a notch in his eyebrow from a small scar.

His face shape is different from what she’s always imagined, his mouth thinner, eyes a little further apart, and when he offers her a tentative smile, it’s clear he’s never had braces.

“Etho?” she asks, heart racing, and he nods, just once.

“Hey,” he replies softly and he sounds just like he does on the server — of course he does — but it seems strange without a layer of separation between them.

She swallows and can’t get her hand to relax enough to let go of the handle so she stays exactly where she is.

“Are you hooking up with Bdubs, too?”

It slips out before she can stop it and she sees the exact moment Etho understands, his eyes widening.

He doesn't know about them; Bdubs hasn't told him about her.

“This is his room,” she quickly adds, hoping he’ll have mercy. “He gave me the key.”

Etho’s expression shifts. “This is my room,” he tells her. “Bdubs lives fifteen minutes from here.”

Gem did not know that. Her stomach sinks.

“Oh god,” she says, realizing what’s happening.

Bdubs set her up. He texted her knowing Etho was in the room.

“Where is he?” Etho asks and Gem swallows.

“I have no idea. He said he would be here.”

Etho's gaze drops, for just a brief moment, to the hem of her shirt, as though he’s remembering the way she’d been holding onto it, ready to pull it over her head.

He's kind enough not to call her out, not to make her feel even worse about the situation, but there's no doubt they both know what she was there for.

He looks at her again and Gem has to blink away. She needs to do something.

From the pocket of her pants, she pulls out her phone.

It's blinking with an unread message from Bdubs.

Don't waste the opportunity and don't say I don't do anything for you.

“I'm gonna kill him,” Gem whispers at the same time that her phone suddenly lights up with a call.

Of course it’s Bdubs.

She sends him directly to voicemail without hesitation, tucking her phone back into her pocket and looking over at Etho.

“He’s trying to — ” she starts, pausing at the sound of tinny ringing from across the room.

Etho glances over at the nightstand and Gem realizes it's his phone ringing now. He steps over to it without a word, sparing Gem a look before answering, which tells her everything she needs to know.

“Hey, Bdubs,” he says, turning, as though maybe wishing he didn’t have to take the call in front of her. But that’s his own fault for catering to Bdubs’ every whim and answering in the first place. “Yeah, she’s — Very — Yes, probably.”

She’s only getting one side of the call, but she can guess what Bdubs is asking — Is Gem there? Is she mad? Is she threatening to find Bdubs and murder him?

But eventually, Etho turns back toward her, watching Gem as he listens to Bdubs, and after a long moment he holds the phone out.

“He wants to talk to you.”

Gem doesn’t want to talk to him, but she also knows when to pick her battles.

She takes the phone.

“What?” she answers brusquely, which Bdubs seems to expect.

“Tay, I’m sorry, but if I’d told you he’d be there, you wouldn’t have shown up.”

“You don’t know that,” she lies, but he’s right.

He lets out a breath, like he knows, but isn’t going to argue.

“Why didn’t you tell him either?”

“For the exact same reason,” he laughs. “You guys are weirdly similar.”

“We’re both sane,” she grunts. “What did you think would happen?”

“Maybe that the sexual tension would sweep you both away.”

“There’s no — ” Gem starts, catching herself before saying it aloud, but Etho meets her gaze. “That’s not a thing.”

As though he hasn’t heard her, Bdubs continues.

“You’d call me after a sex-fueled weekend, thanking me for my service and begging for — ”

“I’m going to hang up,” she warns, face burning, and Etho tilts his head, an unspoken question.

She glances away, listening to the sound of Bdubs’ laughter in her ear.

“I thought you two would actually enjoy meeting,” Bdubs says honestly, voice gentle and no longer mocking. “He doesn’t shut up about you, you know.”

Gem’s gaze darts back to Etho, surprised, and he raises his brows questioningly. She shakes her head, pretending it’s nothing.

“I haven’t figured out if it’s a crush,” Bdubs continues. “But I’ve never seen him this way before.”

Gem’s face feels even hotter now.

“Okay, sure,” she says. “Good luck with that.”

“He'd be good to you. Better than me, anyway,” Bdubs tells her, but Gem doesn’t answer, just holds the phone back out to Etho.

He takes it, but watches her.

“What did he say?”

“Nothing good,” she grunts, watching him bring the phone back up to his ear.

“Bdubs?”

Gem doesn’t pay attention to them this time, thoughts spinning wildly. Bdubs might be wrong, but the possibility of Etho having a crush does wonders for her self-esteem.

She stares at Etho, feeling off-balanced, and when his gaze flicks down to her, it feels like enough to knock her over.

She takes a step back, nudging into the door and letting it keep her steady.

Etho’s nodding — like he thinks Bdubs can see — but she has no idea what Bdubs might be saying to him now.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. “I will.”

Gem takes a breath, watching Etho end the call and toss his phone onto the bed.

“What did he say?” she echoes, too curious for her own good, and Etho wipes his palms on his thighs, like maybe he’s sweating.

“He said you’re in town until Sunday.”

It’s not a lie. Her flight back home leaves before noon.

She nods in confirmation, just to give him something.

“He said that you’re not exclusive and that I should take you to dinner.”

The plan with Bdubs had been sex and pizza, but she supposes her schedule is wide open now. Or in her wildest fantasy, she could just trade Bdubs with Etho and keep the same plan.

“Bdubs can say whatever he wants,” she agrees. “He always does.”

“Are you?” he asks and Gem frowns.

“Am I what?”

“Exclusive.”

“Bdubs is married,” Gem laughs. “We can’t be exclusive.”

“Doesn’t stop you from wanting it,” Etho says, more understanding than she expects.

But she shakes her head.

“Not exclusive,” she confirms.

Etho stares down at her, gaze darting around her face.

“Go to dinner with me,” he says eventually and Gem’s stomach flips.

“Is that what you want, or are you just doing what Bdubs tells you to?”

Etho takes a step toward her. “What I want.”

Gem swallows, nodding before she even realizes she’s doing it.

“Bdubs is going to be insufferable about it,” she warns and Etho shrugs.

“Bdubs is insufferable anyway,” he says. “Might as well make it worth it.”

Gem laughs, surprised, delighted, tentatively hopeful.

“Okay,” she agrees. “Let’s do it.”

[dnd-writes]

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Pt. 1

AO3

Tags: Non-con, this whole fic is just one whole degenerate lump of non-con, so warning all of you already at the beginning. BFH, very degenerate, unedited, Third-person PoV (cause easier that way), sex slave!Julie, sex slave!Natty, sex slave!Belle, sex slave!Haneul, sex slave!Kiss of Life, sexual slavery, sexual exploitation, contract manipulation, clothing control, slapping, punching, kicking, spitting, deflowering, anal deflowering, painal, dry vaginal sex, facefucking, cum on food, frozen dildos, I think that's all or most of it but you get the point

A/N: 1. First of all, thank you to @fillinforlater for the fic idea. Idk what the fuck happened, at first I was following the plot he laid out, then I changed this part, then I added this part, then this, then that, and I blink and all of a sudden I have this monstrosity of a fic 2. Fic has nothing to do with the song, just thought it would fit as a title 3. If anyone asks, for this fic I "changed the timeline" of KIOF's pre-debut stuff to essentially fit in June 2023, cause y'know, Haneul. 4. Part 1 cause Smite's prompt had a second part that I also want to write but it's gotten so long I decided to split the fic into two? parts.

It’s finally happened, she’s finally done it! After years of hardships and struggles Natty has finally achieved her goal of being in a K-pop girl group, the dream she once thought to be impossible now becoming a reality as she takes the pen and puts her signature down on the contract with tears filling her eyes. Some might call her crazy or an overreactor for bawling out but for someone who has gotten eliminated in the finals of not one but two survival shows, tears of joy sound like a reasonable reaction. 

Although Natty has already spent nearly a decade training, she is still looking forward to training more with her new groupmates. Even if it might take a decade more, as long as her dream comes alive, to her it’s all worth it. 

Natty expected to be surprised on her first day but she wasn’t ready to face what was in store for her. Having been a trainee for almost half her life, there’s no doubt that Natty has heard rumors about the industry, the drastic measures required to stay in form, the horrible things that happen away from prying eyes, the exploitation, the harassment. Though to her, they were all just rumors, just silly little things that people made up, little did she know that the rumors were just a teaser of what’s to come.

Natty goes through the front doors but instead of the vibrant and cheerful place she visited not long ago, the company now has a faint and eerie atmosphere. Lights are off, not a sign of any person in the immediate vicinity, it’s like the place never was alive to begin with. “Maybe I just came in at a wrong time,” she thinks as she navigates her way to her destination. Natty ascends to the fifth floor and as she makes it there, she hears subtle heavy breathing echoing along the halls. She decides not to get too curious and instead looks for the meeting place.

Natty stands just outside the door with a large smile prepared on her face, “This is it,” she tells herself as she gets ready to meet her new sisters. Her jolly expression quickly fades as she breaches the door, sitting inside are two of her three new groupmates. While very excited to finally meet them for the first time, what catches her attention the most are their outfits—both of them revealing way too much skin, a stark contrast to the jacket and jeans she has on. One of them is wearing booty shorts and a crop top cut short enough to barely cover her nipples and Natty notices that she doesn’t seem to have a bra underneath it. And all she can see on the other is a large red shirt barely making its way past her hips. 

Natty forces back a smile, trying to regain the excitement she previously had. There’s just four seats in the middle of the room all facing each other and Natty takes one of the two empty ones. It was awkward at first but the tension slowly dissipated as the three began talking, though a sense of eeriness still lingers behind. They start off introducing themselves to each other and Natty quickly learns that it’s Haneul who is wearing the crop top and Belle is the one wearing the red shirt. Once they got the awkward introductions out of the way, they proceeded to talk about random things. They start to talk about their lives now, their lives as trainees in previous companies, how the two knew of Natty in her time in survival shows. Although, every time Natty would try to talk about their outfits, they would pause and take a deep breath but then they would either play it off as if it was a normal thing or just change the subject entirely.

With no obstructions between them, Natty can’t help but notice some details with their apparent choices of clothing. Natty doesn’t know if she’s just imagining it but when she looks at Haneul’s crop top, she swears she can see a hint of darkness which she can only guess to be are areolas. Then there’s Belle who is sitting in the chair across from her, her short red shirt hikes even higher up her body while she sits down and Natty can see, clear as day, Belle’s pussy just hanging in the breeze. Natty tries to ask her about it but Belle just looks at her as if she was a crazy person.

Eventually the last member arrives, Natty somewhat expected her to also be similarly dressed which she is but the state she came into the room in was what shocked her the most. The last member arrives wearing a yellow sundress though from the looks of it, it might be a size or two too small. As she stands there trying to introduce herself to Natty, she keeps on adjusting her dress, struggling between pulling it over her chest or pulling it below her hips. But her attire is the least alarming part, her hair is all frizzled, her lipstick is smeared, and there’s drops of liquid dripping from between her legs. Natty forces another smile as all four of them start to talk together. The mystery girl introduces herself as Julie, their new leader. Julie takes the remaining seat and, similar to Belle, her dress hikes up, even higher compared to Belle’s shirt, and Julie’s pussy is visible to everyone. No one comments on it but Natty quickly sees that a pool of white is forming between Julie’s legs and it seems to come from her pussy and her butt.

Natty was right in that her first day would be full of surprises, though she did not expect to be such horrible and gut wrenching surprises. On her way home, she starts to recall the rumors she has heard over the years and after thinking back to what she saw earlier, they’re starting to become less like rumors and more like the harsh reality of the industry. But Natty brushes the thoughts aside, thinking to herself that her dream of being part of a K-pop group is being fulfilled and if it means even worse and troubling obstacles, then she will just overcome them too. She has had years of training, what’s a questionable dress code compared to that?

The next day arrives and Natty tries to remain optimistic, wearing another bright smile as she enters the practice room, though just like the day before it quickly drops. There’s a fifth person joining them that day and Natty can only assume he’s their choreographer only except he’s wearing nothing but shorts. While his toned body is in no doubt hot and amazing, given the situation and the very very prominent tent he’s sporting, Natty is deeply disturbed.

She says hi to him and then at her group mates who she has just noticed are still wearing the same outfits as the day before albeit with some slight changes—Haneul’s isn’t even covering her chest anymore, just dangling like a necklace above her shoulders; Belle’s red shirt has streaks of white all over the front; and Julie’s dress has a rip at the top as if her breasts were breaking free. Natty couldn’t even find the time to feel sorry for them as the man starts to talk to her as she comes in. “Hey, you’re the new girl right? What are you wearing?”

Natty stands frozen in place. She hasn’t gotten any sort of instructions or clothing to wear. Has she missed something? 

The man carries some papers over to her. “Did you not read this?” Natty recognizes the papers he’s holding, it’s the contract she signed. He flips through the pages and gives it to her, “See? Right here.” He points at the clause labeled “Attire” and Natty reads through the fine print. “In the company, the members should wear what is given to them or any clothing that they have. Provided that their tops have sleeves not longer than 10 cm and bottoms not longer than 20 cm.” With just her luck, she’s wearing a sweater and jeans that day. Natty couldn’t believe this, she remembers reading every detail of the contract but not once has she seen this. Natty continues to read the page and the next clause is labeled “Sex.” It reads, “The members cannot object to their bodies being touched or used by the employees of S2 Entertainment. The members must follow every order given to them, whether they are willing to do so or not. If the task is impossible to do, the members must accomplish it to the best of their ability. None of this can be mentioned to anyone outside of S2 Entertainment.” Natty could not believe her eyes, such inhuman clauses on her own contract. She hastily checks the last page and there sits her signature, bright as day. She looks at the others in disbelief but they can only stare right back at her with empty expressions.

The man grabs the papers back. “Well? The clothes we have are still in the laundry, so unless you have spare clothes with you or something, the only solution is to undress.” Natty looks at the others again for help but they just shake their heads and Julie mouths “Sorry” to her. “Are you going to do something about it or do you want me to take care of it?” Driven by fear of getting manhandled, Natty turns around and rushes to take her clothes off. Even with her back to everyone, she can feel the stares stabbing into her back. She feels so sick and dirty as she takes her sweater off and as she shimmies her pants off of her hips, she doesn’t realize she was involuntarily shaking her ass for everyone not until the man squeezes her butt.

Natty shivers in the cold room but it pales in comparison to being just in her underwear. Though it’s just the choreographer she has to be worried about, the lustful stare he gives her is enough to make her cry. Julie tries to console Natty but not a second later Natty hears a slap echo in the room, she looks up to see the choreographer in front of Julie who’s holding the side of her face.

The rest of the day goes pretty ok given the circumstances, mostly just going over the song and the choreography that went along with it, though their instructor occasionally helped himself to cop a feel while teaching and he seemed to be most interested in Natty, always focusing on her mistakes, groping and feeling every inch of her body as he “teaches” the dance.

The next day, Natty moves into the group’s dorm. “This time, it will be better,” she tells herself, maintaining that bright and optimistic perspective on life. She hopes that in the dorm it will be much funner and freeing, just her and her group mates living together and hanging out all the time. 

She opens the door and peers inside, to her surprise it’s really clean and quiet. Although she’s been very optimistic about things, deep down she was expecting similar horrors to what she has seen the previous days and seeing such a pristine and spacious living space is enough of a relief for her. After bringing her things through the door, Natty explores the place. In the living room there’s a huge flatscreen TV and a couch big enough to fit more than four people, and in the kitchen there’s lots of space available and a big fridge. Natty checks the fridge and salivates seeing lots of veggies and drinks inside, then she checks the freezer and almost falls to her knees from hunger seeing all the meat. Natty was about to slam the door shut when she notices a red dildo slightly hidden in one of the layers, she gives it a touch and confirms that it is ice cold. She blushes slightly, thinking that one of her group mates is kinky like that.

Natty hops over to the rooms, excited to see what those are like after seeing how extravagant the common areas are. She first checks on the room to the right, as she goes in she’s met with a very odd-looking room, half is very bland and empty while the other half is very decorated. “This must be my side,” she whispers while looking at the empty space. Over in the decorated half she sees Haneul fast asleep in her bed, seeing her wearing pajamas and not some skimpy outfit brings a smile to her face.

Natty closes the door gently as she makes her way to the next room. She barges through the door and immediately regrets it, the dorm which she expected to be their “safe space” away from the shit they have to go through at the company, turns out to just be an elegant looking prison. Natty was so happy about the place but unfortunately, it was too good to be true.

Natty sees three people all in one bed. Nearest to her is Belle, lying on her back and sobbing into her hands while a red dildo is shoved in her ass. Next to her is Julie and some man relentlessly pounding into her from behind. Only the man reacts to Natty’s arrival, looking over his shoulder to smile at Natty, it’s a different man, one Natty hasn’t met before. “Hi, Natty… I’m your… manager… Will you be a good girl and… pull that out of Belle?”

Natty should feel offended by such a crude question but after a week of “training,” she’s gotten to know better. Disgusted and disturbed yet Natty still drags her feet across the floor towards the three of them. “Just pull it out but do it slowly, don’t want to hurt her… even more,” he quickly adds the last part, chuckling as he does so, clearly enjoying himself at the expense of Julie’s and Belle’s pain. 

Natty glances at Belle, her face hidden in her hands, her body red and blue all over, her ass adorned with a bright red toy. She touches the base and immediately recalls her hand, it’s cold, ice cold. Natty considers herself a fool for even thinking for a moment that the freezer dildo was a kink thing, perhaps it might, but not for the person she thought it to be.

Belle’s quiet sobs turn to whines as Natty starts pulling the dildo out, the sound alone is enough to bring tears to Natty’s eyes, knowing that even though she’s helping, she’s still causing some pain. Natty continues to pull but at her slow pace it feels like it would take forever, she doesn’t even know how long the dildo is and as more inches get pulled out, the more worried she gets knowing how far it was in Belle and how much it could have hurt. 

Finally she pulls the thing out which calms Belle, her asshole closes back up, her body relaxes, and her cries die down. Natty looks at the dildo in her hand, the thing is almost as long as her forearm, she quickly throws it away and out of her sight.

Their manager turns to see that Natty has done what he requested, he gives Belle a slap on the ass and then Natty a pat on the head. “Oh nice… you’re a good girl... Natty… So here’s… your reward…” Before Natty could process anything he said or did, she feels her hair being yanked and her face quickly diving towards the bed. He makes her face to the side and starts to paint Natty in his cum. She hasn’t felt cum yet, let alone seen a dick in person, but the warmth and stench it leaves is enough for her to hate it.

“Wake Haneul up and have her clean you up, or you could just drink it all yourself, I wouldn’t mind. Just make sure to record, ok? When you’re done, Natty, meet me in my room, it’s at the end of the hall.”

And just like that he leaves, satisfied and so full of himself, while the three girls lay exhausted and broken.

Julie is the first one to recover among the three of them. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I’ll go get Haneul, he hates waiting too long.” Before Julie can step away, Natty grabs her wrist. “N-No! I’ll do it. I’ll… try to do it.”

“You sure? Alright then. My advice is just do it quickly. Hwaiting.” Julie flashes a weak smile and raises her fist for encouragement and Natty reciprocates the action. 

Julie takes her phone and starts recording. Natty sits at the edge of the bed with Belle just slightly out of the shot. Natty scoops up all the cum on the side of her face, just doing so disgusts her immensely. With most of the white liquid in her palm, she puts everything in her mouth and gulps it all down. For a second all is well but the aftertaste hits her like a truck and she starts coughing again and again. She expected to hate it but it was beyond awful. Only when Natty calms down does Julie stop recording.

“Go to his room, it’s on the left. I’ll just put this back in the freezer,” says Julie as she picks up the dildo from the floor.

“He hates waiting.” Natty repeats, with no time to rest, she gets to her feet and moves to the manager’s room. Natty’s hand reaches for the doorknob but she stops herself before she can even touch it. This time around she opts to knock instead of just barging in. “Come in,” says the voice from the other side. Natty enters the room, it looks much bigger and more grand than the other rooms, a bigger bed, a TV, a mini-fridge, it was practically its own apartment. “So nice of you to knock, you’re still dressed but that’s an easy fix.” 

She notices him ruffling through some stuff in his drawer, she tries to take a peek but he closes it before she can see what was inside. In his hands are a remote and a collar with her name on it. “We just met a few minutes ago but I think you’re my favorite already.” He puts the collar on her, tightening it so it fits exactly around her neck. “Whenever you’re here at the dorm, you have to wear this, ok? And everytime I press this button.” He raises the remote and clicks it, sending a small stinging sensation to Natty’s neck. “You have to come to me. It’s only at one right now but if you’re not here within five minutes of me clicking it, it goes up by one, permanently.” Natty gulps but with the collar snug around her neck, it made it a little uncomfortable. 

“Ok so where’s the video?”

“Ah, Ju-”

As her name is mentioned, Julie barges into the room, phone outstretched with the video ready to play.

“Ah, there it is. Thank you, Julie.” Julie hands her phone over and stands in place, like a robot waiting for her next command. “Aww, look at Belle sleeping so peacefully. Oh wonderful, drinking it all by yourself. See, I knew you would be my favorite.” He hands the phone back to Julie and she starts to leave but before she makes it out he issues one final order for her. “Julie, be a dear and get Haneul. She’s been sleeping all day, I haven’t had my fun with her yet. Actually, you know what? Now that Natty’s here, just get everyone.”

With just the two of them left in the room, he walks over to Natty. Seeing his erect dick twitching so much causes her to involuntarily step backwards and his brows suddenly furrow. “Now, now, Natty.” The sudden change in his tone and expression is enough to strike fear in her heart, afraid of a punishment she puts her foot back to its original spot causing his smile to return. 

“Sweaters. Always so annoying, I heard you’re huge but I can’t really tell with that stupid thing hiding your tits. From now on in the dorm, Natty, only wear tight tops. Oh, better yet, no tops at all. The only thing I want to see you wearing above your hips is that collar.” 

Instantly Natty’s hands start to move, getting rid of any clothing on her torso as soon as the new rule is implemented. She can see it in his eyes, hunger ever growing with each article of clothing she removes. As soon as her shirt comes off, he starts salivating. “My, oh my, you’re huge. Looks like Julie’s got competition.” Natty reaches behind herself to unhook her bra but pauses for a moment, she realizes this is the first time she would show her breasts to anyone, many have touched and played with them at the company but not one has unveiled her boobs. As her bra falls, his dick twitches in excitement. 

The rest of the group arrives. Belle is the first to enter, her legs very tired and her ass still very sore. Next comes Haneul, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Last is Julie, her head held high and her face serious, looking like a guard rounding up the inmates although she isn’t any less of a prisoner compared to the other girls in the room. The four just stand in silence like mannequins and their manager walks around and gropes whatever he pleases as if doing some inspection. 

“Haneul… what did we say?” says the manager very disappointedly. His tone shocks her awake, “I-I’m sorry,” she bows then starts getting out of her clothes. He scoots over to her and slaps her in the face. “I’ll let you off easy this time since Natty’s finally here but I’m doubling the next punishment.”

After Haneul, he moves over to Belle, whose legs are barely keeping her standing. “You cross me again, I’ll make sure you won’t even be able to walk for the rest of the day.” He punches Belle and she easily drops to the ground sobbing, he kicks her while she’s down to add insult to injury. Natty can only shiver upon hearing everything happen behind her, does she even want to know what Belle did to make him so mad?

He moves over to Julie and the first thing he does is spit on her face then he uses his fingers to smear it all over. Julie keeps her composure, just closing her eyes as he plays with her face, not flinching or whining at all. “You should thank Natty for being here, ‘cause you’ll finally have some time to rest.” His hands cup her breasts, giving them a proper feel before he moves on to a bigger and better pair. 

Finally he comes back around to Natty, the only person in the room with any piece of clothing still on. “Tell me, Natty… Have you fucked before?” Natty gulps again knowing the implications, though it was bound to happen eventually. She shakes her head and he smiles. “Oh, a virgin? So many people in that building and not one has fucked you? Well their loss, we’re gonna have so much fun together.”

“Change of plans girls, looks like I need some ‘catching up’ to do with Natty. Go do whatever you want for now, we’ll be here for a full day or two.” 

But just before he dismisses them, he goes back to Belle, still on the ground holding her side. He spits on her face too but this time he uses his foot to smear her face. “Don’t think I’m done with you just yet. Be ready for your final ‘lesson’ when I’m done with Natty. Now go, all three of you, leave.”

It’s wicked really, how sick and twisted all of this is, all the expectations Natty had, completely flipped around. Shining eyes looking up to her turns out to be lustful stares looking down, helping hands turn out to be forceful gropes, and managers turn out to be owners. Natty looks over her shoulder with tears starting to form in her eyes, though her hands remain still, her stare acts like a hand reaching out to save her from the depths of hell but alas, all Haneul and Julie could do is return similar sad gestures as they carry Belle away.

The manager locks the door as the three leave and immediately gets back to Natty, even with all the time in the world at his disposal, he wouldn’t want to waste a single second. With the rest of the group gone, Natty feels even more miniscule and useless, even more of a toy as his gaze is solely on her. He comes up behind her and fills his hands with her tits, with Julie’s he can still grasp the whole thing in his hands but Natty’s can barely be fully contained. He starts to fondle and play with her nipples while slowly moving his mouth closer to her neck.

Natty easily starts to moan loudly, she wants to keep quiet to avoid giving him that pleasure but her complete lack of experience and the resulting lack of tolerance betrays her. He sniffs along her neck, “You smell so good and your tits… so fucking soft.” He finds a patch of skin along the front of her neck and starts to kiss and suckle on it, Natty explodes into a moaning mess, shouting in pleasure as if she’s having the time of her life.

The pleasure gets cut short as his hands move down to her waist. “Sweatpants… another cock blocker. From now on, just don’t wear anything, Natty. Your body is so hot and irresistible, wouldn’t want any clothes hiding your beauty. Don’t worry about getting cold, just come to me and you’ll be warmed up in no time.” His fingers slip into the waistbands and he slides both her underwear and her sweatpants down to the ground. He’s the first one to see her tits and now he’s also the first one to see her bare ass and pussy. As much as she doesn't want to think about it, he probably will be the first dick she takes in every hole.

The manager circles Natty slack-jawed and wide-eyed as if admiring a sculpture he has just made. “Fat ass, soft and heavy tits, pretty face. You’re just the perfect little toy, aren’t you? And a virgin too, just the absolute best, if I could I would just own you forever but sadly I’ve got a job to do. Although… maybe I can have you be my roommate instead of Haneul’s, that’s probably the closest I’ll get.” He leans down and frowns at what he sees. “Unshaved, unfortunate, guess you can’t have absolutely everything but it’ll do. First thing I want you to do when you’re out of this room is get that shaved, got it?” Natty’s been unmoving and frozen in place for so long that it takes her a second before nodding her head.

The manager pushes Natty onto the bed then flips her to face him. Her full body is on display for him, each delicacy just sitting idle like food in a buffet, up for grabs at any time. He licks his lips as he considers his options. 

“Two virgin holes, which to try first? The other three bitches came here already used, so this will be a first for you and me.” He slaps his dick against her pussy, grinding on it and feeling the slight hint of wetness it’s giving off. Next he considers her asshole, very puckered and looking very small compared to the head of his cock as he pokes her with it. He licks a finger and prods inside, the way his finger barely pushes through excites him and the way Natty winces seals the deal for him. 

He lifts Natty’s legs up and hooks them over his shoulders, giving him a perfect angle to ravage her ass. He lines himself up and slowly pushes his way in, not even bothering to spread her cheeks to mitigate the tightness. Natty is already breathing heavily as she feels her asshole stretching to accommodate him. “Please,” she begs. “It… It won’t fit.”

He just smiles and caresses her cheek. “That’s the fun part, a tiny virgin asshole broken open by my cock. I’m gonna remember this forever.”

As soon as Natty’s sphincter spreads wide enough for his girth, he shoves the whole thing inside. “AHHHH!!! TAKE IT OUT! TAKE IT OUT!” Natty fires a blood-curdling scream as his cock swiftly overwhelms her. It hurt for him too given how dry her butt is but only barely, plus her cries only work to alleviate him. 

He locks her legs in his arms and her hips in his hands to keep her from moving. Her hands might be free but Natty doesn’t have the strength or the courage to lift them up. Her ass feels like it’s on fire from the dry friction between the two of them. To her, it’s like hell. To him, the fire feels like an invigorating force. 

Her anal walls hug him so tightly, it’s like Natty’s ass is begging him to fill her up and who is he to turn down such a request. Her ass is so tight, it’s practically milking him dry, any tighter and he might not be able to pull out. In just a few minutes he starts to orgasm, the hardest and fastest one he’s had with any of the four girls. He pulls out and scrambles to find his phone, wanting to cherish this moment forever. “Second load of cum and many more to go. You’re gonna be such a wonderful cum bucket, Natty, milking me everyday. You’re going to love my cum and my dick in no time.”

Natty tries to stand, to do something, anything, but her body is just worn out already, completely exhausted, completely given up. The manager, on the other hand, is the exact opposite, even after tearing Natty’s asshole apart, he’s still hard and ready for another round. This time he has his eyes set on her cherished virginity. 

He hooks her legs back onto his shoulders but this time he carries her then pins her to the wall with her wrists bound by his hand above her head. While flexibility isn’t a problem for Natty, she is now face to face with her assaulter. She closes her eyes and looks away but that doesn’t stop her from feeling his hot breath on her face. His tongue pokes out and licks along her cheek, tasting her tears and her sweat, he leaves a trail of his saliva as he travels from her jaw to her ear. “So salty, so delicious. Everything about you is so delicious, you know that? Now I’m gonna enjoy fucking your pussy, I’m gonna see just how tight you fucking are.”

Tears fall nonstop from her eyes. Natty’s sobbing grows strong as she feels his heat pressing against hers. She so badly wants to beg him to stop, to let her rest, but her voice can’t manage to form words and she knows he wouldn’t listen anyway. 

He lines himself up with her folds and in one swift motion, he pistons his cock inside. “AHHHH!!! FUCK! PLEASE!!!” her voice only manages to come back during moments of intense pain. “Oh, Natty, your cunt. Fuuuuuuck, that’s the best pussy ever.” Her pussy is heavenly, it’s so tight that it’s almost orgasmic when he penetrates her. He just loves the way Natty squeezes around him. He also loves hearing her cry out in pain, to him it’s like a choir of angels. He relishes in the feeling of Natty’s pussy, living in his own twisted version of heaven.

As he pounds into her from below, Natty’s tits bounce freely in front of him and he doesn’t waste a second as his mouth latches onto her chest, after all, a little side dish won’t hurt while he enjoys the main meal. He bites her nipples, pulling and squeezing them with his teeth, only adding more pain to what Natty is already experiencing.

The two of them fucked endlessly in that locked room while the other three finally got some rest, though they couldn’t quite live in blissful harmony as Natty’s screaming kept them aware of their situation, the walls were thin enough to let Natty’s wails of terror flood the whole dorm. While the other three girls were able to sleep through it, in the morning they still heard Natty screaming and begging, though her voice much weaker and hoarser. 

There’s just so much to do with Natty, just pure lust and adrenaline fueling the manager all throughout the night. All the positions he could take her in, all the things he can do, all the possibilities, everything that Natty’s body can offer, he takes. He fucked her all over the room, didn’t even matter how or where, he just slams her down somewhere and fucks her in whatever hole he felt fit. He fucked her face against the wall, then fucked her ass while he pressed her face onto the floor, then fucked her pussy while missionary on the floor, then fucked her ass doggystyle on the bed, then fucked her face while her head hung off the bed, then fucked her ass in the shower. Just so much cum in and on her body in the span of a couple of hours and yet he is still going strong.

The next day comes around and there doesn’t seem to be any lapse in their action. Stretching from before the rise of the sun all the way to after it set, just endless screaming of pure pain and agony coming from Natty. The only time the manager interacted with the rest of the girls was when he asked Julie to cook up a meal for them. The door finally opened again for the first time in two days as Julie brought her cooking.

“Ah, pork belly, I’m starving. Thank you so much, Julie. I see you’ve gotten comfortable without me pestering you all the time,” he says as he sees Julie wearing some pajamas. “Oh, two plates? We won’t be needing that,” he chuckles as he returns the second set of utensils as well. Just before the door closes, Julie takes a peek over his shoulder and sees Natty practically lifeless on the floor. The manager gives Julie a quick smile, proud of his own work, then locks the door.

The manager walks over to the bed and nudges Natty with his foot before getting himself comfortable. Natty, almost void of all energy, springs to life as she smells the delicious food. Natty sits patiently, silently jealous as she stares at her manager eating all by himself. He points to his dick and Natty can only sigh as she lowers her face in front of it. 

The manager puts his hand on the back of her head and Natty opens her mouth, but instead of pushing down he says, “Let’s play a game, Natty. If you make me cum before I finish the food, you can have the rest of it.”

Natty doesn’t exactly have much knowledge on how to pleasure a dick, her only experience being the one dick that’s been forced in her body the past two days. She’s already come to terms with the fact that she might not eat for two days straight but regardless she tries her best. 

Natty employs the small pieces of advice she’s heard him tell her. Even though she’s basically just moving her head along his length, judging from his moans he seems to be enjoying it so she goes faster. 

“Fuck, Natty. Fuck… I’m gonna cum…” He takes over this time, gripping the back of her head as she immediately chokes. “Don’t… swallow it, fuck.” He struggles to squeeze his words out of his mouth as another orgasm makes its way into Natty’s mouth, only this time around it pools on her tongue. She already hates cum to begin with, cringing inside whenever she would taste it but with a whole load lingering in her mouth, revolting is an understatement. She struggles to hold it all in, not just because of the taste but also because of how much he gave her, her cheeks are full and just a little more it would probably overflow. 

He holds the plate of what’s about a quarter of the total meat still left on it. “Spit,” he commands and without hesitation she opens her mouth and deposits the batch onto the plate. “Go on, everything, spit into it.” She does as ordered, mixing the remnants with saliva and spitting onto the food. He spits onto the plate as well and mixes the meat with the “sauce” then puts it on the other side of the bed from her. “Go eat.”

Natty tries to get up and walk to the other side but the manager has other plans. He grabs her hair again and pulls her across the bed, forcing her to kneel down. “Come on, eat up.” He moves over behind her and lines up with her pussy. “Don’t waste anything, when you’re done I want that plate clean.” Natty stares at the disgusting abomination in front of her and she feels even more disgusted and degraded knowing that even when it comes to food she’s being treated like a dog. Her stomach gurgles, no matter how disgusting the food may be, she still has to eat. Natty tries to look at the brighter side of things, at the very least she’s eating actual food and not some slop that looks inedible. 

On the third day of her imprisonment, Natty is completely exhausted and broken. She just lies on her back, barely even reacting to anything her manager does anymore, there’s cum on almost every inch of her body and yet she doesn’t bother to clean it. 

Julie knocks to bring them breakfast, the manager gets the door but instead of just taking the food he tells Julie to give it to Natty. “She’s not fun anymore so I’ll be going back to you guys. And besides, the company is looking for her, can’t have her here forever.” As soon as the manager leaves, Julie rushes over to Natty and tends to her. 

The manager, clearly unsatisfied with Natty’s unresponsiveness and clearly needing a release, turns to Belle for release.

“AHHH!!! Wait, no, please… I’m sorry.” He barges into her room and she immediately shrieks upon seeing him. In the short span of two days, she’s gotten used to not being around him but here he is to remind her of her place. “I promise I won’t do it again, I—” She tries to get away but she’s stuck in the corner and all she can do is sink herself further into it. He doesn’t stop or even think for a second about what he’s doing, he just walks up and punches her face, adding another bruise to the multiple he’s given her. 

“Haneul? Get in here!” he shouts at the top of his lungs. While waiting, he pulls Belle’s face to the edge of the bed and starts facefucking her, all the while alternating between slapping her tits and punching her pussy. 

“Haneul?!” he calls again after a few minutes. After cumming down Belle’s throat and Haneul still hasn’t arrived, he marches over to her room. Not really to his surprise, he finds Haneul sleeping soundly in her bed. For one second he smiles, admiring her beauty before proceeding to ruin it. 

He punches her which brings her wide awake. He tugs her hair to bring her face close to his. “Always sleeping, you lazy cunt. Maybe you need a lesson too.” Haneul screams and thrashes as she’s dragged across the floor by her hair towards Belle’s room.

The next few days and weeks go by with the members somewhat getting used to and coping with the treatment that they are going through. Lots of practicing and “training” happens at the company, mostly the latter, then their manager has fun with them at the dorm. At the very least their manager is kind, all things considered, just as long as they follow his orders, so they still get to somewhat relax at the dorm. And whenever no one is using their bodies, the girls hang out, talk with each other, and comfort each other, growing a bond and giving each other hope to carry on until they debut.

The month ends and it’s finally time for Kiss of Life to debut. The four are no doubt incredibly excited, they finally get to wear clothes that cover most of their body, finally have some time away from the perverts, and most of all, they finally get to debut and live out their dreams of being K-pop idols, though little do they know what their company still has in store for them, even in public view.

A/N 2: So if you made it here, congratulations, you're as much of a degenerate as I am :). Anyway, while part 1 is mostly focused on Natty, part 2 would likely be four "mini-fics" in one, each focusing on one member. Subject to change but most likely it would be like that

[alotofpockets]

Home | Natasha Romanoff

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Prompts: "I've had a bad day, and honestly all I want right now are some cuddles." & "You've always felt like home."

A/n: Could be read as a part 2 to 'Seeking comfort' but also works on it's own :)

Masterlist | Marvel masterlist | Words: 1k

Living with Natasha had been nothing short of perfect. You had been living together for a couple of months now, and the experience had been amazing so far. Your shared place had felt like home from the moment you and Natasha had stepped foot in it. Over the months you grew to love the little habits that started to form. 

One of your new favorite things has become coming home to Natasha. The way she ran to the door when she heard the familiar noise of your keys jingling before unlocking the front, always welcoming you home with lots of kisses, was something you would never get enough from. She was always so happy to have you back home, and in return you were very happy to be back in her arms.

Another thing that you loved was Natasha coming home to you. You always tried to make it special, and on your days off you did that by putting some extra effort into dinner. Since the two of you had moved in together, you had picked up cooking, and you tried making new recipes as often as you could. You loved surprising your lover with a home-cooked meal, and a nicely set table, turning dinner into little impromptu dates.

Above all else, you loved creating a home with Natasha. The walls and shelves that were blank upon moving, were now filled with pictures, and trinkets of your life together. Just as you had seen that first day you entered Natasha’s bedroom at the Compound. Natasha loved capturing every moment with her polaroid camera, and you loved looking back on the memories the two of you had created.

You were working on a new recipe for tonight when you heard the infamous, “Honey, I'm home.” Natasha loved being cheesy, and you loved all the domesticity that came with it. The Black Widow was a big softy, she was your big softy, and you wouldn’t change that for the world.  “In the kitchen.” You reply. It wasn't long until you heard her footsteps heading your way, and her arms wrapped around your waist from behind. Soft kisses were placed on your shoulder. “Hi detka.” You lean into her body, while you continue stirring the pan. The pasta was boiling, and the sauce you were stirring was almost done. 

“Hi baby, how was work?” Natasha grunts from behind you and nuzzles her head further into your back. "I've had a bad day, and honestly all I want right now are some cuddles." You put the heat down under your pans before you turn around in her arms. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry you had a bad day.” You wrap your arms around her, and hold her close. “Do you want to talk about it?” She shook her head. “That’s okay. Let’s get you those cuddles, shall we?” 

“But what about dinner? I know you worked hard on it.” She says worriedly. “We can just have it on the couch tonight. Why don’t you take a seat? I’ll be right there.” She kisses your cheek, “You’re the best. I love you.” - “I love you too, darling.” You grab two bowls and set them down on the counter. The pasta dish needed a couple more minutes, so you decided to clean up the table you had set already in the meantime.

Once the dish is ready you shoop the pasta and then the sauce into the two bowls. On a tray you bring in both your dishes and the wine you had poured into two glasses. “It smells really good, baby, I can’t wait to try it.” Natasha appreciated your gesture to skip on the fancy set table and enjoy the food on the couch, however she did feel guilty about ruining your plans of a fancy at home dinner date. “I’m sorry about the change of plans.” She says as you hand her one of the bowls. You shake your head, “Don’t worry about it, darling. I don’t mind where we have dinner, I just want to have it with you.” You sit down beside her and put on one of her favorite movies. She instantly leaned into your side. That was another thing you had noticed, Natasha had become a lot more clingy. She always found your hand to hold, or your side to lean into. You were not complaining though, as you loved being close to her.

When your bowls were empty, you discarded them on the table to clean up later, and changed your position on the couch so that Natasha could cuddle into you properly. “Come here, baby.” You said with your arms wide open. She laid her head down on your chest, and you immediately wrapped your arms around her. The movie continued to play on the TV, and you moved one of your hands to absentmindedly play with her hair, knowing how much Natasha loved it when you did that. “Your cuddles always make me feel so much better.” You place a kiss on her forehead, “Oh yeah? Why is that?” Natasha lovingly places a kiss on your neck, “Because you’ve always felt like home.” Gosh, she really is the most adorable person to have ever existed. “You’ve always felt like home to me too. I am so happy that we have found each other, and that I get to live life with you by my side.” 

Natasha didn’t make it to the end of the movie, you heard her breathing change about half way through it. You knew she had a rough day, so you pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, letting her sleep on your chest while you finished the movie. During the movie you often thought back on how Natasha would softly speak her favorite lines of the movie out loud, the memories always bringing a smile to your face. 

Your girlfriend was still fast asleep when the movie ended. The remote was still within your reach, so you went to Spotify and turned on one of your playlists there. Soft music filled the room, and it wasn’t long before your own eyes fell closed.

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[wolfjackle-creates]

Hi!! I haven't been on Tumblr for a while but I used to read a fic you made out of a prompt (?) Someone else made about Danny who freaked out when he realized the Waynes are the Bats and accidentally shot Bruce(?) And if I'm not mistaken you made a part 2 of it (idr remember if it was a wip or finished) but do you have a masterlist so I can re-read it :D? So sorry if I sound weird (´⌒｀;)

It is absolutely never weird to ask an author about their works!!!! Thanks so much for sending this in.

It's been ages since I've worked on this one, but it's definitely on my short list to get back to. Especially since I'm pretty close to having it finished?

Here's chapter 1 on AO3. And the Subscription Post.

Chapter 2 is limited to Tumblr right now, only two parts currently. Part 1 can be found here.

Currently it's called Want to Hold on and Feel I Belong. However, when I do start updating on AO3 again, I plan to change the name. (I'm just waiting so people who have subscribed are more likely to remember what they're getting an email about.) Mostly I refer to it as my Bad Reveal AU. Though I get that's not a great working name as that's usually reserved for the Fenton parents reacting badly rather than Danny reacting badly.

Also, as a thanks for reminding me that it's been a while since I've posted anything about this fic (or, well, in general), have the next bit!

Here's a random 1.5k.

Previous

-----

Having a potential lead so close meant the hours until J’onn’s arrival were spent in prep mode.

Every uniform had to be checked for the slightest damage and upgrades done where possible. Supplies and go-bags were organized so they could leave the moment they had a lead. Fuel levels in every vehicle were checked and topped off where necessary.

And finally, the zeta tube activated and J’onn stepped out. “Good day to all of you. I heard my assistance was needed?”

Bruce went to greet him. “J’onn. Danny’s room is upstairs. Did Clark explain the situation?”

“Yes. He said that your newest ward has density shifting powers and left things behind in his walls and floor before running away a few days ago.”

Bruce nodded sharply. “Follow me. Clark will show you where the items are hidden so you can retrieve them.”

Dick happily zipped up what felt like the hundredth bag he’d had to pack and joined them. “Hey, J’onn. Welcome. How have you been?”

“Greetings, Dick. It has been a long time since our last meeting. I have been well. I want to wish you luck in finding your brother swiftly and easily.”

Dick nodded his thanks. “Same. We’re really hoping he left behind something to help because we haven’t had much luck so far.” Dick pulled out his phone and notified the family of J’onn’s arrival and requested they meet in Danny’s room.

On the way, Bruce and Dick filled J’onn in on the situation. At the implication of government experimentation, he face went hard and he vowed he would help them however he could.

Clark, Jason, and Alfred were already there when the group arrived and the rest weren’t far behind. With everyone present, the room felt crowded.

“Where should I start?” J’onn asked Clark.

“Behind the NASA poster. I think that’s where he keeps the weapons. One of them is an object that looks like it might be the same as, or at least similar to, the weapon that shot Bruce.”

Under Clark’s direction, J’onn removed not just two more energy guns, but also a glowing-green net, a boomerang, a tube of lipstick, what looked like a weird, high-tech thermos, and a wooden baseball bat with a sticker that said “Fenton” on it.

Dick couldn’t help but whistle at the pile. “Damn, he was packing all this?”

“Apparently,” said Damian. But Dick could tell his youngest brother was impressed and mentally reassessing his beliefs of Danny. “Perhaps he is not as helpless as I previously believed.”

“Why’s he got lipstick?” asked Steph as she picked up the tube.

“Don’t!” ordered Bruce even as she opened it and released a laser beam that left a small scorch mark on the ceiling.

She stared in shock before laughing. “Oh, damn! When he comes back, I’m so asking if he could get me one of these. That’s so cool!”

“Can I see that?” asked Barbara.

“Wait until we’re in the cave,” said Bruce with a sigh. Both women grinned at him.

Dick reached down and grabbed the net. Despite the color, it seemed normal enough, maybe a little smoother than most rope he’d handled. He pulled out a pocket knife and was able to slice through one of the ropes easily enough. Jason came over to look at it with him.

“Anything weird about it?” he asked as he reached out to touch it. “Huh, that’s odd.”

“What’s odd about it? Seems pretty normal to me.”

“It just… It feels weird. It almost hurts to touch.” When Dick looked at him sharply, Jason quickly added, “It doesn’t hurt, but it feels like it should. If that makes sense.”

“Feels normal to me.” Dick showed him the break he’d made.

Jason shrugged. “Dunno, then. I just get a weird feeling from it.”

Damian picked up the energy gun, Tim the thermos, and Duke the boomerang when Alfred cleared his throat.

“Before we get distracted, might I remind you that there is more to find? We can bring everything down to the cave to examine them with no more damage to Master Danny’s room.”

Everyone sheepishly put down the things they were holding. Dick bit back a laugh when he noticed Clark push the baseball bat away from himself with his foot.

“So, J’onn,” Clark said. “I think the next area of interest is behind this poster.” He gestured at a poster of the horsehead nebula. Dick had helped Danny find it and hang it up and the kid had talked about nebulae for over an hour as they did. The memory caused his eyes to burn.

From this stash, J’onn pulled some notebooks and two external hard drives, which Barbara took. Dick and Bruce both grabbed a notebook. Dick opened his to the first page.

Journaling is such a stupid idea. I don’t have any time for it but Jazz says I need to get my feelings out. Pointless. So what if I can’t sleep and Skulker attacked me again today during English getting me another detention. Its not my fault! Shit, haven’t done that essay for Lancer. If I miss any more assignments he’s gonna fail me for real.

Everyone knew Danny had been failing before he’d been brought to them, but he’d refused to discuss why. Once he was in school in Gotham, he’d gotten straight A’s. Even if he did ask for the occasional help in English from Jason.

But this raised so many questions. Who was Skulker and why were they attacking Dick’s little brother during English class. He flipped through the pages. Interspersed between journal entries were drawings of schematics. Dick thought he recognized some of the designs as the weapons they’d uncovered.

His eyes caught on an entry that started with a string of curses.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. My parents saw Dani today. In ghost form. They actually managed to hit her. Only her second visit and I couldn’t keep her safe. Some big brother dad cousin whatever I am. I did get her to the Far Frozen. Frostbite fixed her up. Taught me what to do if it happens again, too. And gave me the medicines and supplies to do it. I’m so glad I have friends in the Zone now. It makes it so much easier. I can’t get the image of Dani’s blood staining my hands out of my mind. Going to Tuck’s tonight. I can’t be around my parents right now.

Stomach dropping, he flipped a few more pages until he found one with a photo. It was a grinning Danny with white hair and wearing a jumpsuit standing on a curved balcony. Behind him, spire buildings rose into the air, many rounded in a way not often found on Earth.

Clockwork took me to Mars today! Holy shit it is so cool. Just, everything. We went back to when they were thriving and I had to stop an invasion. But that’s not important. Everyone here can go intangible despite being alive. Some of their buildings don’t even have doors because they’d be pointless! And the plants and animals are all so different, too. Clockwork helped me find some books on Martian history and biology and evolution. He’s also gonna show me where the Martians exist in the Zone so I can learn their language. Maybe one day I can go to Krypton or Tamaran as well?

Dick stared back at the picture. It did have that distinctive feel of wrong that extraterrestrial landscapes always had. He swallowed. “Uh, J’onn?”

“Yes, Dick?”

“Um, Danny. This is his journal. He said he went to Mars. Before… Just, before. He’s got a picture. Is this real?” He handed the photo to J’onn who hesitated a moment before taking it.

J’onn froze as he stared at the simple image. “I… Yes. This is my home. How…?”

Dick shrugged and wished he had an answer for the last of the Martians. “Someone called Clockwork brought him there apparently. To stop some sort of invasion? He didn’t discuss that much. He was too interested in the planet and people to talk about what he did. He was hoping to visit Krypton and Tamaran, too. Also said something about Martians existing somewhere he called the Zone. He wanted to meet them to learn the language.”

The look on J’onn’s face at the mention of other Martians existing somewhere was heartbreaking. Maybe Dick shouldn’t have said anything? When Danny came home, would he maybe want to talk to J’onn about Mars?

With clear reluctance, J’onn handed the picture back. “This is your brother in the photo?”

“Yeah. I mean, Danny usually has black hair and blue eyes, but that’s him. Do you recognize him?”

J’onn nodded. “Of course. He is the Omen. His coming foretells death and destruction which he will then try to avert. I know what invasion he is speaking of, it is, was, taught in our history books. He saved all of Mars that day. We thought him a god.”

Dick’s mouth fell open. His little brother? A god?

-----

Did you enjoy your little surprise update tonight? Let me know what you think!

[koolades-world]

got a request via comment for a part two with the undatables for this mangled wings prompt! been working at trying to incorporate raph into my works so this will be my first post with him in it! part one can be found here

if you haven't done lesson 76-19 (yes i did have to look up the exact lesson haha) there are spoilers below for simeon

enjoy!

Mc with mangled wings p.2

Diavolo

he's always been very empathetic, and he immediately tries to help you in any way he can

he offers you all the moral and emotional support he can offer

he also tries to help you work through it and may know the right people to help you restore what you once had

whatever you need, he will help you as best as he can

Barbatos

when he learns, you're not so sure about how he feels since his expression remains exactly the same

but inside, he's filled with a seething rage that he rarely feels and is something only few can recognize

suddenly, all those that hurt you are begging for forgiveness

when you ask him, he says nothing and offers you a tea party with all your favorite things at it

Simeon

he's very open about how

however, something he'll never tell you is how afraid he was of suffering a similar fate

he's grateful he didn't fall like the brothers did, but now he's just floating in a weird in between

it's an odd bonding moment between the two of you, being outcasted, but part of him feels like you could connect more with the brothers than him

Luke

he's so horrified that people that you once trusted could do that to you

he hugged you and almost started crying while apologizing

after he learns what happened to you, you suddenly find a lot more specialty treats left on your bed that are always right up your alley

while he thinks it might bother you to bring it up directly, he's always asking how you are and how you're feeling

Solomon

he's seen a lot during his lifetime, so while this doesn't phase him too much, that doesn't take away how upset it makes him

he hates seeing you in pain, and as a human, he's known a lot of that

even though you're not, he feels as if the two of you can bond over understanding each other when nobody else does

he hasn't suggested it to you yet, but he's been trying to create something that may help you to restore what you once lost...

Mephisto

you've never seen him act more sympathetic

his facade drops and you can see how much he actually cares about you

with his heart on his sleeve, he shares everything

he lets you know you're welcome in his arms anytime if you need anything, and while he won't admit he had the conversation with you, his actions change

Thirteen

at first she's outraged, but eventually calms down once she sees that you're not as upset

don't give her any names or she might accidently knock over their candle while working

when it comes to be their time naturally! she emphasis naturally, you can come help if you want

reaping is something she does respectfully and this is no exception, but she'd do anything for you

Raphael

he's very serious as usual when he offers to hunt down who did that to you

he wants to seek vengeance on your behalf

even if you tell him not to, part of him will always be thinking about doing it anyways and is always listening for details about them

from then on, anything you ask for, he's getting it done 100% if not already

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A special sort of craving 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: A stranger appears at your cafe and leaves you unsettled.

Part of the Backwood AU

Note: I found this in my docs and then I was like this could be an AU and people will hate me but here we are. I am heavily considering adding at least one other character to the AU bc I have an idea I don’t think i’ll ever get to full length with.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The man finishes his pie and milk. You continue on busying yourself with tasks you've already done. You don't want to welcome any more conversation with this stranger. He belches and pats his stomach loudly.

"Delicious," he comments as the chair legs scrape on the floor.

"Oh, glad you enjoyed it, sir," you look over the counter as you work at shuffling the pastries from oldest to newest in the display.

"Mmhmm," he hums emphatically, "so, do I get table service or..."

You hide your chagrin behind a smile and close the back of the display, "of course."

You push through the little swinging door and come out to gather up his empty dishes. He watches you as you do your best not to acknowledge that fact. You just want him gone so it's quiet again. Usually, you'd mourn the lack of business but you don't welcome his.

"So, your husband must be the numbers guy, huh? Handling all the heavy duty work?" He intones as he bends his arms behind his head and stretches.

"No," you say as you back away.

"No.... what? He doesn't do your accounting or no you don't have a husband?"

"It's my business. I manage it," you insist.

"Right," he drops his arms and shifts on the seat, "think I should get a coffee for the road. Long way back to The Grove."

"Of course," you retreat behind the counter and set the dishes in the bin for washing. "Which roast?" 

He clicks his tongue, "hmph, you're... very attentive. That husband sure is a lucky man." He stands and dusts off his shirt, "I'll take the rest of that cherry pie too."

You nod and face him, "what size and roast?" You prompt again.

"Light roast, large-- hold up, actually, I'll take an americano. I could use the pep."

"Sure," you slide off a tall cup from the stack and go to work.

He watches you, his gaze bearing down as hotly as the steam of the hot water. You fill his cup and return to the till to ring him up. You punch in the amount for the espresso and what's left of the pie. He taps his fingers on the counter, a fifty folded between his knuckles. He holds it out and you go to take it as the drawer snaps open. He hangs on to it, keeping you in a tug-of-war.

"Keep the change. You earned it," he winks.

"Oh, that's too generous," you say.

"I can be," he smirks.

He lets go and you count out his change. He sighs and leans on the counter, "I said keep it, honey bun."

"Really, it's too much--"

"Can't be making much in this place," he says, "go on, buy yourself something pretty."

You look at him, scrunching up your lips with a gulp. You drop his change in the tip jar. He scoffs in victory.

You pack up the pie and slide it across to him. He clings to your every move as he blows over the cup of coffee. He grabs a lid and clicks it on.

"I'll save a piece for you," he promises, "in case you change your mind."

He takes the box and winks. He struts to the door and balances the cup on the flat box as he lets himself out into the street. You chew your lip and quickly turn your attention to the counter. Those city types just stick out like a sore thumb.

🥧

The routine of your work quickly wipes the strange encounter from your mind. Early mornings filled with steam and the scent of cinnamon swirl by in a cloud. Melinda helps set out that day’s pies as you put on the coffee to brew. There’s usually an opening rush, as much as you get in a place like this.

Eden and Frigga enter with a jingle of the bell above and you greet them with a smile. They always come on Friday. You already have their order started as Melinda cashes them out. An oat latte with vanilla and cinnamon for Eden and simple black tea for Frigga. And a peach crumble to go, her first son’s favourite, Frigga proclaims each time.

That morning, however, she surprises you with a different comment. A question.

“Darling,” she stops you at the window as she grasps the wire handles of the paper bag, “are you available tomorrow night?”

“Pardon?” You bat your lashes in surprise.

“I’m sorry for my abruptness,” she touches the collar of her crisp white blouse coyly as Eden inhales the smell of her latte. “We’re having a special dinner and you did such a marvelous job last yule.”

“A dinner?” You wonder, “I suppose I could ask Carla if she can pick up an extra shift.”

“That’s wonderful. Apologies for short notice. It’s only we have an unexpected guest at the hotel, she does have particular tastes and it’s Thor’s birthday. He wants to celebrate. I have a list,” she sifts around in her handbag, “I may have been a touch presumptuous. He’s hoping for a cheesecake, rather than sponge. Oh and the younger one, he said it’s too rich so some of your shortbread shall do for the dissidents.”

“Right,” you accept the piece of paper as she unfolds it. It wafts with perfume as you read her elegant cursive. “I should be able to do most of it. I’ll need to do a run for some of the savoury ingredients… what time?”

“Oh if you could arrive at three or four, that would allow for set up and some last minute details. Oh, could you also make sure you and your little helpers wear red? Thank you so much, dear,” she reaches into her handbag again, “a deposit, of course.”

She hands you a check, signed by her husband. You’ll have to take this to the bank but you won’t mention the trouble to her. You smile and tell her you’ll figure it out. She claims her tea and crumble and sets off with Eden on their weekly excursion.

“I can’t do Saturday. Husband’s mother’s comin’ round,” Melinda says over the till as you approach her, “Carla was talkin’ about some party too.”

You frown and chew your lip. You suppose you could ask Katherine. She’s always eager to help, even with her meagre two shifts a week.

“Right, no problem,” you smile, “nothing you need to worry about.”

“I can help with some prep today. Do some shopping with Carla’s in for the afternoon.”

“Sounds good,” you fold up the list and the check and tuck it into your apron.

You grab a receipt and start on the next order. It’s a single tea latte; the blueberry oat. You go through the motions and bring it to the counter, calling out the item. A woman you’ve seen around sways as she sends a glance to a man still in line. You don’t recognise him, another new face. She shies away as he returns her gaze and she quickly scurries to claim her drink.

She gives a tiny wave as she comes up, “um, sorry, er, to eavesdrop,” she murmurs and you lean in to hear her, “if you need some help, I could do some… stuff.”

“Oh, uh…”

“Just for the night?” She pleads, “sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, that’s nice,” you assure her, “you live with your grandmother, right? Up behind the ridge.”

“Yeah,” she squeaks, “we could use the money.”

“Sure, not many jobs to go around in Hammer Ford,” you sniff, “can you be here for one?”

“Uh,” she peeks over again at the man by the register. The way he watches her makes you uneasy.

“Yeah,” she answers shakily, “I’ll be here. Thank you so much.”

“You know what, we have a special on, how about you sit and have a scone,” you offer.

“Um…”

“You got a far way back, you should enjoy your latte,” you insist, eyeing that man again.

“Okay,” she agrees easily. Too easily. That man is listening, he must notice that as well.

“You go sit down and I’ll bring you the scone,” you smile again, “if you stick around, we can chat a bit about tomorrow when it slows down.

“Oh, yeah, makes sense,” she accepts, “thank you so much.”

She turns and awkwardly moves around another customer. She weaves her way to the corner and sits at a table alone, cradling her cup daintily. You’ll have to keep her in the kitchen.

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Let’s Go To The Library! Version 2. 

Previous tape

Riley puts the new tape into the VCR and it starts to play. 

“Hi friends! I’m… Amanda.” Amanda sighs. 

“And I’m… Wooly. Heh heh.” Wooly laughs nervously. 

“Today we have to return our books to the library!” Amanda says, waving her horror book. Wooly unenthusiastically lifts up his smiling flower book and forces a smile. “Can you tell me where that is?” There are three buildings, a toy store which is completely destroyed, the library, and the bakery. Riley clicks on the library. “Are you sure? We could go to the bakery and get some cookies first? Just as a special treat!” 

“Amanda, we should return our books before they end up being late!” Wooly pleads. 

“Wooly we are the only ones here, I don’t think anyone will care if they are late.” 

“Okay fair. I just want to get rid of this book. The sooner the better.” Wooly reveals. 

“Why?” 

“Ever since I checked out this book… everything’s gone wrong… I’ve felt… wrong.” 

“You’re blaming it on the book?” Amanda chuckles with confusion. 

“I never want to see this thing again.” Wooly grumbles, anger filling his voice, static starts to cover the tape. 

“Okay then we’ll go to the library!” Amanda announces. Suddenly, they’re back in the library. “Here we are, the Kensdale Public Library!” Wooly walks right up to the owl and holds out the book in front of her. 

“I’d like to return this book please,” he says. The owl does not respond. “I’d like to return this book.” he repeats, his eye twitching in frustration. 

“Silly Wooly, you gotta put it in the return box!” Amanda explains. 

“Oh…” Wooly mutters, looking super embarrassed. He puts the book in the return box and Amanda does the same. 

“Now let’s go home.” Amanda suggests, heading out the door, but she can’t get it open. 

“Leaving without a book?” The owl questions, tilting her head. Amanda groans loudly and turns around. She walks over to a shelf and grabs: World’s Most Famous Serial Killers. And walks back to check it out. 

“Did you find everything you need today?” the owl asks. 

“Yep.” Amanda sighs. 

“Good. It is due- due due due due due due due due due due due due due due due due due due due due---” the owl starts skipping again. Amanda glares at it with annoyance. She grabs Wooly’s hand again and attempts to leave. 

“Leav-leave-leaving with-with-with-without a b-b-bo-book?” the owl prompts them. Amanda looks at Wooly and rolls her eyes. 

“Guess you need one too.” They head back to the kids section. The same three books appear. “Just pick one and let’s get out of here.” Amanda grumbles. 

“Help me… pick a book?” Wooly prompts us. Riley clicks on the rock. “Good enough.” he shrugs. They head back to the desk to check out the book. 

“D-did-did-did you fi-fi-find everything you need-need-need-need today?” the owl asks, tilting its head. 

“Yeah yeah.” Amanda grumbles. Wooly hands the owl the book. She rings it in. 

“ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE PICK OUT ANOTHER BOOK.” This time her voice sounds completely robotic.

“WHAT?!” Wooly shouts. He grunts in frustration and stomps back over to the kids section. Riley selects the rock again. “We already tried that.” he snaps. So we click on the sad rain cloud. “Whatever.” he sighs. They go back to the desk. 

“Did you- Did you- Did you- Did you-”

“YES.” Both shout angrily in unison. The owl rings in the new book. 

“ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE PICK OUT ANOTHER BOOK.” 

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” Amanda screams, she yanks the book out of the owl’s hands and rips it in half. 

“ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE PICK OUT ANOTHER BOOK.” 

“YEAH NO DUH!” Wooly snaps. 

“ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE PICK OUT ANOTHER BOOK. ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. ERROR-”

“THAT’S IT I’M DONE!” She attempts to leave once more. 

“LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE LEAVE-”

“YEAH I’M TRYING!” Amanda screeches, stomping her foot. “Forget this, Wooly, just check out the book you had before that one should work.” 

“But I don’t want that one!” Wooly protests. 

“Wooly we don’t have much choice-”

“I DON’T WANT THAT ONE!” he screams. Amanda freezes. She stops and takes a deep breath. 

“Okay Wooly. How about we try a different book?” she suggests. They head back from the kids section. Book after book the response is always the same. 

“ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE PICK OUT ANOTHER BOOK.” 

  “ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE PICK OUT ANOTHER BOOK.” 

“ERROR-ERROR-ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE PICK OUT ANOTHER-”

“Wooly please. Just take the dang book you had before. I’ll keep it in my room.” 

“Okay fine! Fine!” Wooly says, handing the old book to the owl. 

 “ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE PICK OUT ANOTHER BOOK.”

“WHAT THE-” Wooly shrieked. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?!” 

“THAT’S IT!” Amanda screams at the top of her lungs, “I WANT OUT! I HATE THIS PLACE! I HATE IT! I HATE IT! I HATE IT!” she storms back into the children’s section. “I HATE THIS STUPID KIDS SECTION THAT TOOK EVERYTHING AWAY!” She shoves over two of the shelves. She flips over the tables and chairs and kicks down the tv. She grabs a random book and tries to check it out. 

“ERROR BOOK DAMAGED. PLEASE-” Amanda throws it at the owl’s face. 

“I HATE THIS! ALL OF THIS!” she screams. “I HATE THESE STUPID BOOKS THAT ARE NEVER RIGHT-” she kicks down the shelves and they all fall like dominoes, breaking the wall and causing the tape to glitch. “I HATE THIS STUPID MOCKERY OF A PLACE I USED TO LOVE!”  She picks up a potted plant and throws it at one of the windows. She glares at the owl with a wild look in her eyes. “AND I HATE-” she jumps on the desk and grabs the owl by the neck, “THAT YOU WILL NEVER BE KATE!” She chucks the owl at the last remaining wall and it breaks, causing both the owl and the wall to glitch.  “But what I hate most of all…” Amanda falls onto the ground on her knees… tears forming in her eyes, “Is that this place will never be the same again… you ruined it… you ruined it… YOU HEAR ME OUT THERE?! YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!” 

“Amanda-” 

“It’s gone… it’s all gone- and it’s never coming back. Never. Even if we escape from here… we’ll be all alone. Dad’s gone… Kate’s gone… all my friends are dead… it’s gone… it’s all gone… and it’s all their fault… it’s all their fault…” she sobs. “That’s it… I’m done… I give up…” 

“But Amanda, what about the plan?” 

“What plan?” 

“We were going to escape… and find your dad and live happily ever after?” “That wasn’t a plan Wooly…” Amanda sighs, wiping her tears, “It was a story. A story you’ll only find in a book. There is no happily ever after for me… or you… you know that, don’t you?” Wooly looks at the ground sadly. “C’mon Wooly… let’s go home…” with that, the tape ends and fades to black. The Hameln jingle plays and the tape falls out of the machine.

I told you guys you were not ready for the next couple fics I had planned. I wrote most of these today actually... so we'll see what I come up with for tomorrow (I'm having WAAAY too much fun with this). Don't worry, I think I might've peaked here in terms of angst for now. I'll think up some happy fics... or I'll try to lol.

[yurislotusgarden]

Hiii lotuss!!<3 i love ur works they are so cute it makes my empty heart fill up w joy 💔💔

Can i request prompt 6 w chu, dazai and sigma w fem reader? If thats okay ofc!<3

Btw remember to take breaks and eat, drink and sleep well! :D

-💞 anon

ʚїɞ Separately! Dazai Osamu, Nakahara Chuuya and Sigma x Gn!Reader

ʚїɞ Keep in mind English is not my first language, so you may find mistakes!

ʚїɞ The event

ʚїɞ word count: 1k

ʚїɞ Tw’s: None! Just pure fluff, pet names are used, reader’s gender is not specified in any way

ʚїɞ Hi 💞 anon! Thank you for the words, nice to know someone enjoys my works like that <3

Sun rays fell into the warm room, a comfortable silence and atmosphere, a feeling it would be a good day the moment you woke up.

You would call it a perfect Saturday for a day out, and getting up early to start to start your day while the sun has been up for not too long, and you would do so if it wasn't for a specific brown-haired koala clinging to your waist from behind. Really, was it too much to wish for him to be asleep when you wake up? Getting out of his grip is certainly easier when he's asleep than when he's fully conscious.

"Where do you think you're going, Bella?" But truth be told, his morning voice may make up for the inconvenience if you were to not lie to yourself. "It's too early!~" 

And here comes the quiet whining from the other adult.

"We both have work, Samu. We need to be at the agency in less than an hour so-"

"So it's plenty of time to stay in bed and cuddle with me!"

"I would rather be on time so that Kunikida doesn’t scold us for being late."

"He will scold us for something anyway. What's the difference?"

“I-”

You didn't have an answer to that one. To be fair, that's not exactly a lie, that Man can find any reason to scold a person.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“...”

“Who am I asking? Of course, you don't have an answer when all I'm saying is the truth!~”

You love seeing Dazai happy, don't get it wrong, but this was one of the times when you just wanted to punch that grin off his face-

“Honey.”

“Hmm?” He really thought he won if his face was anything to go by.

“*I love you but we need to get up*”

A displeased groan came from the man and you had thought you won when-

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

“I mean no, you wanna hear it in French? ✨Non✨”

You're so done with this man, and you still had to deal with Kunikida’s scolding later.

4 hours.

4 hours is the amount of extra time spent in bed by you, wanting to just stay in bed with your boyfriend as he had a whole day off for once. While it was lovely to have more time with Chuuya than usual, it was already 2 p.m. by that point, way past the time when you should’ve gotten up.

“Chu?”

The question was asked in a quiet voice, in case he fell asleep again since the last time the both of you uttered a word.

A hum was a response enough for you to know he’s at least conscious enough to have some sort of a conversation with him. Gently running your nails through his hair, you quietly asked “Don’t you think it’s time to get up?”

A quiet groan came from the man. 

“Nuh-uh”

“Honey.”

“Nooo…” His voice showed just how close to sleeping he was before you spoke up.

“We need to get up-”

“I refuse the offer, now go back to sleep.” But now he seems fully awake? Motherfucker.

“It wasn’t an offer- and it’s 2 p.m.”

Is it even worth trying to argue?

“Do I look like I care about the hour, love?”

“Chuuya!”

“Not changing my mind.”

No, absolutely not.

“I will change your damn mind when I-”

Soft lips were planted on yours for a few seconds to shut you up before pulling away. The ginger head raised his head to kiss you just to shut you up.

“Shush and don’t try to get up, we both know you won’t manage that if I don’t let you.”

But you will always try to argue anyway.

“Fuck you.”

“Gladly.”

He will never get bored of that blossom hue appearing on your cheeks. Never.

Sleeping in the middle of a million blankets may have not been the best idea.

Sigma has been overworking for the past 2 weeks as per usual and you decided that he needs a good rest, resulting in wrapping you both up in any blanket you found lying around. It was comfortable as hell, yeah, but the bi-colored-haired man had been asked to come down to the Casino for something and yet still didn't get up. Is it really your boyfriend or is it some imposter because you thought you would never see him ignoring anything related to his Casino.

You decided to speak as yet another message went unanswered. “Cotton?”

A sleepy murmur of “Yeah?” made it clear he was listening.

“You need to get up.”

“But I don’t wanna.”

A sigh came from you, and another buzz from his phone could be heard. You were pretty sure that by now around 60 different messages could be seen on the screen unanswered. Of course, that was the number of messages that came after he read the first one asking for him in the first place.

“Sigma.”

One word, and yet his head shot up from the pillow right away. You don’t use his name often, especially in that tone. “Did I do something?”

“Sigma.”

“What?” He was genuinely confused, was he that tired that he didn’t even realize what that message earlier really said?

“Cotton-” You were hoping to calm him down by not using his name anymore. “Listen, I love you, but we, especially you, need to get up.”

“Why?”

“Look at your phone.”

“Okay?”

Let’s just say that the moment his brain processed the 80 messages on his phone, he got out of bed with, what you would say was his record speed, literally speedrunned getting ready you had to help him with his hair and tie because this man would go out in bed hair and very badly tied tie and you managed to get him to take a snack with him since he didn’t eat anything yet.

Some of his workers found out it was you who got him out of bed and thanked you.

You did not answer Sigma’s question when he asked where you got all the sweets from later that night.

Notes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated

[sickficideas]

gotta hear me out || sick Akutagawa w/ caretaker Atsushi - chapter 2 of 3

ao3! 5.1k/10.6k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! sicktember 2024, day 30: past prompt (2022, day 27: sleepless night)

Atsushi tries to keep himself busy. There’s not many signs at all that Akutagawa has done anything in his home outside of his room - there’s a few dishes and a pot in the sink that Atsushi decides to clean and put away, dishes far fancier than necessary, he thinks - a rice cooker and a teapot on the counter too. He thinks his next objective is going to be to get Akutagawa to eat something. Rice is probably an easy start.

The storm seems to have let up a bit. It’s still raining, sky still filled to the brim with dark clouds, but he hasn’t heard thunder for a while. He knows that it won’t continue like this, but it’s a nice break for now. He really hates having to listen to thunder.

He finally finds a thermometer, too. He snuck into Akutagawa’s bathroom through a second door, finding one buried under other medical supplies, without charged batteries, of course. At least the batteries were easier to find, and now he has a working thermometer.

He checks his own temperature, laying the thermometer under his tongue for a few seconds, to make sure it’s working properly. He’s been told by Yosano that his temperature is higher than the average human’s, closer to that of a tiger’s, and the thermometer reflects that. A hundred and one point one. That would be a decent fever on a normal person. He washes the thermometer and sets it on the counter beside the rice cooker.

Atsushi turns the TV in the living room after peering around for a remote. Thankfully, it was already on a very low volume. He doesn’t need it loud at all, he really just wants to keep track of the news. They’re actively reporting on the storm, confirming his hypothesis that it will indeed continue on through the night.

He bites his lip.

He wanders back into the kitchen, deciding he’ll work on the daunting task of trying to figure out how the rice cooker works. It’s more difficult than it looks. It’s way, way fancier than one he’s ever seen, and he thinks he might have to give up and opt for cooking rice in a pot, but luck is on his side, and he finds a manual.

He turns back to the island in the kitchen, opening the foldable manual to find the section that explains which buttons do what, and he catches something dark in his peripheral. Atsushi backs up, nearly hits his back against the other counter, arms defensively over his chest as he gasps.

Akutagawa just raises his eyebrows in vague confusion. He’s sitting at the kitchen island on one of the bar stools, one arm crossed and his head propped on the other.

“You scared me,” Atsushi says with the heavy sigh, lowering his arms and closing his eyes for a few seconds, trying to lower his heart rate. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Not long,” Akutagawa says simply. Atsushi has no idea how he didn’t hear him leave his room. He doesn’t even really look half-asleep, his eyes just squint, bothered by the overhead light. Atsushi wanders over to the light switch to turn it off.

“Do you ever have these on?” Atsushi asks him, realizing a pattern from earlier.

“No,” Akutagawa says. “I hate having the lights on. Such a waste. I can see perfectly fine without them.”

“Maybe you’re still a vampire after all,” Atsushi jokes, finding the connection a little amusing.

“Ugh, shut up,” Akutagawa grumbles, bringing his head down into his hand and pressing them against his temples. Atsushi realizes he still definitely has a headache, no wonder the lights are bothering him so much. He’s slept a few hours, at the very least, Atsushi was hoping that would help. He definitely needs something in his system.

“When was the last time you had something to eat?” Atsushi asks him, folding up the manual after figuring out enough to be able to do simple things with the rice cooker.

“Not sure,” Akutagawa murmurs, lowering his hands back onto the counter, “a couple of days ago.”

Atsushi’s eyes widen. “Days?!”

“I don't eat often. That's not abnormal,” Akuatagwa huffs, like that’s an easily acceptable answer.

“Well, yeah. That's clear,” Atsushi mumbles. Akutagawa is ridiculously thin, which he’s sure has something to do with his illness, but he’s seen him regularly refuse to eat. “You should eat every day. No wonder you're passing out all the time.”

Akutagawa seems taken aback by that accusation. “I do not pass out all the time.”

“I can't count the number of times I've seen you pass out on two hands, so, that's too many,” Atsushi chides. It’s not always for a long time, but Akutagawa clearly never has enough energy to fight regularly. He’s seen him pass out, just for a few seconds, many times after using his ability for extended periods of time. “Also, you literally passed out when I got here.”

“I’m sick, in case you forgot,” Akutagawa grumbles.

“I thought you’re always sick,” Atsushi says, mocking how difficult he was being earlier. Akuatagwa just rolls his eyes, props his chin up on his palm and stares out the window, childishly pretending Atsushi isn’t there.

Atsushi opens a few cabinet drawers and doors looking for rice, surprised Akutagawa doesn’t try to wring his neck for going through his things, but he finally finds the rice. He takes the container out onto the counter.

“How’s rice sound?”

“Nauseating,” he answers, still staring out the window.

“Okay, well you have to eat something, Akutagawa,” Atsushi tells him with a half-pout. He wishes there was some way to help his nausea without him taking medicine, because he’s sure any of that would make him feel terrible on a completely empty stomach.

“Do as you wish,” Akutagawa huffs, repeating his earlier sentiment. Maybe he's realized that Atsushi won't back down.

Atsushi takes that, and decides to continue.

Akutagawa doesn't say a word to him for at least the twenty minutes while the rice is cooking. He stays on the chair for a while, listless and staring out the window, deep in thought. Atsushi wonders what he's thinking about, or what's ever on his mind in general, but he thinks that's something he'll never find out.

He disappears behind Atsushi's back once he's turned around and scooping the rice into a bowl. He sees he's gone and sat down on the couch, his eyes now on the TV screen instead of the window. They're still covering the weather. Atsushi suspects they'll probably be doing that through the night too.

Atsushi wanders into the living room with two bowls of rice and just sits with him and watches the news for a little while. It's kind of nice - calm, quiet. Akutagawa doesn't turn it up and neither does Atsushi, so at times the raindrops against the windows are louder than the weather reporting, but Atsushi doesn't mind it. He wishes Akutagawa had some sort of rice seasoning or chazuke packets laying around, but based on what he found in his kitchen, he gets the feeling that the latter never cooks at all. He thinks eating rice plain in solidarity with Akutagawa is fine in the end.

Akutagawa eats more of the rice than Atsushi expected him to, considering he hasn't eaten or taken medicine in days due to his nausea. Maybe he had been mistaking hunger pains from not eating for nausea. Atsushi decides he'll see how it goes, and if that's really the case, maybe he can take some medicine.

He's relieved at the idea that Akutagawa might be fine after all. He just needed a few simple things, just to be taken care of for a few hours.

The weather report starts to show aerial clips of Suribachi City. Atsushi's been through there several times in his time at the Agency, being it's an area of high crime that even the mafia seems to stay out of.

He'd never thought out how horribly prone to flooding the crater-shaped slums are, but it makes perfect sense. The reporter talks about how many of its inhabitants will be found in Yokohama during the storm to avoid drowning in the floods. They have nowhere else to go.

Akutagawa takes the remote, changes the channel to the next one down and hands it to Atsushi.

“Choose something else to watch,” Akutagawa tells him. Atsushi takes the remote, a little surprised by the sudden demand, but the look in his eyes is strange. It's not fear, is it?

“News not good enough for you anymore?” Atsushi says, testing to see if he's receptive to teasing, because even the tone of how voice is a little concerning.

“Are you enjoying watching homeless children drown?” he bites back. It's not quite as mean as he usually is, more defensively, and a strange comment considering nothing of the sort was shown on screen. It was simply implied.

“Since when do you care about kids? You kill people,” Atsushi reminds him. He's really just teasing him, but he's never seen Akutagawa interact with a child other than Kyoka, and he wasn't good to her. “Or, used to.”

Akutagawa looks angry for a few seconds, like he's trying to figure out what to say, but it seems Atsushi's comments have left him speechless enough to decide against it. He just sighs and turns his head back towards the screen.

Atsushi thinks the entire interaction was strange. Akutagawa getting so defensive out of nowhere isn't like him. Atsushi at least knows what to avoid in conversation most of the time so he doesn't get choked out, but this time, he has no idea what set it off. Or, if he does, he doesn't know why.

He knows a lot less about Akutagawa than he thinks he does.

Akutagawa coughs into his hand a few times before he places his bowl of rice on the coffee table, chopsticks laying over the top of it, to then cough into his elbow. Atsushi gets up quickly and decides he'll get him a glass of water. He needs to start getting hydrated anyway. The dizziness and headache could certainly be lessened if it wasn't dehydrated.

Atsushi hands him a glass of water once the coughing dies down. Akutagawa is hesitant on taking it, looking like he's considering ignoring Atsushi's presence, but he gives in and takes the glass from him, only taking a few sips of it.

“You're aware my lung illness doesn't care if I'm hydrated or not,” Akutagawa mumbles, ignoring Atsushi's eye contact as he stands in front of him.

Atsushi's heart sinks a little, hearing him say that.

“Let me look at that wound again,” Atsushi decides, not wanting to start an argument on how Akutagawa should care for himself. It's a losing battle with how unbelievably stubborn he is. He takes the glass of water and sets it behind him on the coffee table.

He leans forward over Akutagawa, who doesn't resist, pulling down the neckline of the sweatshirt to reveal the bandage. Blood has seeped through it already, but not enough to stain the sweatshirt, it looks like. He lifts a knee up onto the couch to avoid awkwardly leaning over Akutagawa, trying to inspect the wound a little more closely as he peels the bandage back.

It looks okay. Not better by any means, but cleaner at least, from Atsushi's earlier work. He thinks this should be stitched up, but it's far too old to do that now - it would only trap the infection the way it is. He thinks right now all he can do is keep it clean and covered, but once Akutagawa is feeling a little better, he needs this looked at by a professional.

He wishes he could lend Akutagawa some of his self-healing. It would make his life so much easier.

“You're too close,” Akutagawa mumbles suddenly, and Atsushi realizes how close he really is.

He's almost straddling him. One knee leaned against the couch and the other propped up on the other side of Akutagawa’s leg, almost leaning against him. This would have been much easier to do from the other side of the couch, but he was already here.

Akutagawa doesn't do anything to push him away, but his cheeks are suddenly red.

“Right - sorry,” Atsushi stammers awkwardly, standing and backing up. “I'll be - right back. I think I just need to change the bandage.”

So he does just that. He takes some supplies out from the bathroom and leaves the basket on the counter, since he'll certainly need this again later.

Atsushi just sits beside him this time, taking off the bandage as carefully as he can. Akutagawa doesn't react to much of what he's doing, aside from when he tries to clean it up. He can feel him flinch and tense up, but he doesn't make any noise - just staring forward, even though he's paying no attention to the random channel he flipped to on the TV.

Atsushi looks up every now and then, just to peer at what he can see of his eyes, and he's deep in thought about something, so much so that Atsushi is worried he'll scare him if he suddenly speaks.

He wishes he knew what Akutagawa was thinking about.

As he finishes up the bandage, he eyes Akutagawa’s unfinished rice. He ate a fair amount of it, but not as much as Atsushi would have liked him to.

“You need to eat more than that,” Atsushi tells him after he pulls the collar of Akutagawa’s sweater back up over the new bandage. He thinks he'll have to change it every few hours or so. 

“Do you want me to vomit?” Akutagawa grumbles, using the armrest of the couch to force himself up, an action that seems to be rather painful. He's sore. He hopes that doesn't mean his stomach is already hurting.

“Does that mean you feel sick?” Atsushi asks him.

“I wish you would leave,” Akutagawa mumbles under his breath, not with any intention of hiding that sentiment from Atsushi. He thinks that's a yes, then, with how he's deflecting. His arms are crossed over his chest, very defensively, but Atsushi's at least glad to see he can stand on his own.

“I don't get all your back and forth. You let me bathe you and then you want me gone,” Atsushi huffs. Akutagawa has never made any sense to him. He can never tell what he's thinking or what he'll say next.

“You're only here because of Dazai, are you not?” Akutagawa says, walking towards his bedroom, “Tell him I'm alive and go home. He doesn't care how I'm doing beyond that. As long as - I can still use my ability.”

Atsushi can't see his face, but he can tell by the way his tone wavers that it hurts him to say out loud, like it's something he's only recently come to terms with.

“That's not -”

Akutagawa slams his bedroom door behind him with the help of Rashomon, as if it's helping him prove his point.

That can't be true. Dazai isn't like that. Sure, he did ask Atsushi to make sure Akutagawa wasn't dead and really didn't say anything beyond that, but it was because he hadn't heard from him in over a week, and he wanted to make sure he was okay before the storm came in. He doesn't think Dazai would be okay with Atsushi leaving as long as Akutagawa’s still breathing. He still needs help, he's not okay by himself.

Surely that doesn't have anything to do with the usefulness of Akutagawa’s ability.

As the sky gets darker, it brings on more thunder. He thinks the storm is starting to kick things into gear, and he changes the channel to confirm his suspicions. They talk about how the worst of it will come at around three in the morning, and they're still only at eight in the evening. He shivers at the thought of having to deal with the thunder all night.

He decides to force himself back into Akutagawa’s bedroom.

Akutagawa's sat up against his pillows with his comforter up over his knees, reading a book, of all things. He looks a little cold. Atsushi doesn't understand how he can read the words with how dim the light on his nightstand is, even with the pair of glasses he's suddenly wearing.

Akutagawa glares at him, and Atsushi stares back, but only because he can't stop thinking about the glasses. Does he think they look cute? Stupid? He doesn't know, but he's staring, and Akutagawa doesn't like it. The way he looks at him almost make it seem like he's taking it as a challenge, like a dog would.

“Glasses?” Atsushi just says.

Akutagawa tilts his head, confused at first. He rolls his eyes, visibly annoyed, before lifting his book back up. “I have terrible eyesight.”

“You do?” Atsushi says. That's new. He's never realized that. Does he wear contacts? Akutagawa doesn't seem like the time for that. Maybe he only needs them to see close up. Why does he even care?

“Must you always bother me? If you refuse to leave I'd rather not have to interact with you,” Akutagawa grumbles. Atsushi's realized over time that when he says stuff like this it doesn't sound genuine at all. Akutagawa thinks it does, that's what he's trying to put on, but Atsushi doesn't think he wants to be alone. But Atsushi doesn't have any idea how to call him out for it.

“Just shout if you need me, then,” Atsushi says, feigning indifference, nonchalance, he doesn't know, he just doesn't want Akutagawa to know it doesn't bother him.

“I will not,” Akutagawa says in some feeble attempt to defy him, but as if immediately struck down by karma, he suddenly groans from some intense pain, painful enough to make him drop his book and wrap an arm around his middle, painful enough to catch him off guard like that.

“Are you okay? Atsushi asks him, cautiously approaching the bed. “Is it your stomach?”

Akutagawa nods with a little noise of discomfort. He has a feeling this is a result of him eating, and he's got a lot more to be concerned about if Akutagawa throws up.

“Please just - leave me be,” Akutagawa groans quietly, his book already forgotten and off to the side as he doubles over, clearly in pain. Atsushi doesn't want to leave him. He is a little afraid of the backlash he'll face by ignoring him, but he thinks Akutagawa has other problems to worry about right now.

Atsushi wonders for a moment if maybe he has a heating pad somewhere that would help the pain a little bit, but Akutagawa derails any of Atsushi's mental plans to prevent him from getting sick when he gags.

Atsushi is fast enough to get the trash bin under his chin just as Akutagawa shifts to the edge of the bed, presumably to vomit on the floor to avoid the bed. He has his mouth covered and he's breathing fast and heavy, staring forward like he's too focused on avoiding throwing up to see Atsushi has the bin for him.

“Here, use this,” Atsushi tells him, fairly certain that whatever Akutagawa is trying to do to breathe around his nausea isn't going to work, and he's right. As soon as Akutagawa is aware of the bin, he coughs and retches, and a rush of vomit splatters into the thin bag.

It's not much at all, just a few bits of rice mixed in with saliva. Atsushi is fairly certain that there's blood there too, but he's not sure if it's a result of

his cough or how poor his health has been the past several days. He bites his lip, trying to stay as still as possible as he holds the bin.

He breathes heavy, shaky over the bin, strings of saliva caught on the sides, his lips shining from it. He spits to break them off and tucks the side piece of his hair that's facing Atsushi behind his ear. Atsushi holds his breath. That was weirdly attractive.

He groans quietly, gagging one more time over the bin, catching him off guard. Atsushi reaches over to lay a hand on his back to give him some comfort, but before he can, Akutagawa shifts himself back to the center of the bed to lie down, arms wrapped around his abdomen.

Atsushi sets the bin down on the floor, assuming he doesn't need it anymore, but he doesn't look any less nauseous.

“Stop looking at me like that,” Akutagawa grumbles. Atsushi didn't realize that he was making a face. “I'm not…a stranger to this.”

Atsushi feels his stomach sink. He knows that. This isn't even the first time he's seen Akutagawa throw up, but seeing him in so much pain and discomfort without much of a way to help him still makes him feel awful. Atsushi really wants him to see a doctor.

“I think you should -”

“I'm fine,” Akutagawa mumbles, now letting Atsushi even finish his suggestion, “let me sleep. I'll be fine.”

Atsushi doesn't believe him. He's still visibly nauseous. He thinks Akutagawa just wants him to leave to save him some embarrassment, but really, Atsushi has no real power over him there, as long as he's not actively throwing up right now.

Atsushi takes the comforter and shifts it around a little before laying it halfway over Akutagawa, who pulls it up closer to his shoulders. He doesn't say anything, doesn't ask Atsushi to leave or to do anything else, he just shuts his eyes and pretends he isn't there.

Atsushi supposes that's better than pushing him away.

…

Atsushi thinks it's around one in the morning when he hears Akutagawa's bathroom door shut.

He hopes for a few seconds that maybe he's just gone to use the bathroom, but the coughing and retching that follows is enough to get him off of the couch and headed that direction.

It's dark. It's probably midnight now, Akutagawa somehow slept for longer than expected, at least as far as Atsushi is aware. He left Akutagawa’s bedroom door open just enough for him to still hear anything, but even so, his enhanced hearing helps as a backup.

Unfortunately, though, it makes him extra sensitive to the thunder roaring overhead and the needle-like raindrops flying against the windows, too.

Atsushi sneaks into Akutagawa’s bedroom, peering through the first door and allowing the dim light from the living room to spill into the bedroom. Akutagawa isn't here, of course, he can still hear him coughing in the bathroom, but his sheets are strewn across the bed as a sign of a very restless sleep. The sweatpants he wore are tangled in the sheets, too.

He opens the bathroom door now, carefully, and flips on the light switch because it's far too dark for him to see anything right off the bat. Akutagawa is on his knees in front of the toilet, his forehead pressed against it for a moment before he lifts his head to hiccup, and gag unproductively into the bowl. He's just wearing the long sleeved shirt and a pair of boxers now. He must've gotten too hot and taken his sweatpants off.

“I don't need you in here,” Akutagawa grumbles, whipping his head to the side and attempting to glare at him, but the light is too much. He hisses through his teeth, like he didn't realize it was on to begin with, turns his head back and presses a hand up against his forehead.

“Does your head hurt?” Atsushi asks, his hand on the light switch.

“Turn them off,” he mumbles. “Please.”

Atsushi shivers as thunder roars over head just as he turns off the lights, and he swears he sees the same reaction from Akutagawa, barely lit by the plug-in light near the sink.

“I didn't know you knew how to say please,” Atsushi teases, trying to keep his voice quiet, now that he's aware of his returned headache - if it ever even left in the first place.

“Leave me alone, Weretiger. I don't need you to sit here and watch me vomit,” he mumbles back, his tone weak and desperate, almost, the bite from his tone completely gone now.

Atsushi's heart sinks. He sounds miserable. He really sounds like he's in a lot of pain, and Atsushi can see it, too. He moves and sits beside him, close enough to be useful but not too much in his space, and watches him wrap an arm tight around his stomach, groaning quietly from the pain. His skin is paler than before, in a harsher contrast against the dark circles under his eyes, and there's some shine against the sweat collecting on his forehead. He’s certain his fever isn’t any better.

“You don't wanna try taking anything for your stomach?” Atsushi asks, clicking his tongue. He knows anything Akutagawa swallows will just come right back up. There's injectable medications for nausea, but he doesn't exactly have those resources in this situation. He thinks Yosano would kill him if he even attempted asking her.

“There's something I have that -” he stops, his body tensing up sharply as his stomach cramps,  but his mouth stays closed through grit teeth and nothing seems to come up, “in the mirror…that can melt under my tongue.”

“The mirror?” Atsushi repeats, standing up and headed for the absurdly large sink counter where the mirror, three times the size of his own at home, stands. He didn't know such a medication existed, but Akutagawa certainly would, considering how often he's sick.

“Just press the corner of the left panel,” Akutagawa mumbles, laying his head against the porcelain with a shiver and a defeated sigh.

Atsushi does so very gingerly, not entirely sure what that will do, but the panel pops out at an angle, like a cabinet would. He takes the corner and opens it all the way, revealing six or seven shallow shelves filled to the brim with various medications. Most of which are in prescribed amber bottles.

Atsushi's stomach twists at the sight of all of them. He doesn’t think that even Yosano has this many in her in-house supply. They all have his name. Akutagawa Ryuunosuke. He catches sight of various dates, ranging from a month ago to two years ago, and so many medication names he doesn't recognize. Doxycycline, Azithromycin, Prednisolone, and dozens of others, some unfinished and some empty. There's over the counter stuff in here, too - Midol, Theraflu, extra strength Tylenol, and more - some of which he's never seen before.

“Which…one?” Atsushi asks, overwhelmed by what he's looking at. He had incorrectly assumed it would be easy to find.

“Zofran,” Akutagawa murmurs quietly. Atsushi can barely hear him. “Or…Ondansteron.”

Atsushi scans over his collection and finds it labeled under the second name, carefully removing it as not to knock over the others, one hand splayed out just in case they happened to fall. He’s tempted to make a joke about it to lighten up how he feels seeing this collection, but he doubts Akutagawa wants to hear any of that, being this sick or not.

“I need to sort through those,” Akutagawa mumbles when Atsushi kneels down next to him, crossing his legs just a foot or so away as he opens the box and pulls out the silver packing. “It’s…it’s not as much as it seems.”

Weirdly enough, Akutagawa seems to be saying that to make Atsushi feel better about it. He doesn’t think that it’s true, and that makes him feel worse.

Akutagawa twists up in pain again, breathing out a pained groan as his eyes screw shut. He shifts to gag over the toilet bowl, an arm still wrapped around his abdomen, but he still can’t bring anything up. Atsushi doubt he has much left anyway with how little he’s had to eat.

Akutagawa breathes heavy over the bowl, very visibly nauseous now, having trouble focusing, it seems like. Atsushi hears more thunder, louder than before, and Akutagawa shakes at the sound of it, this time, apparently not caring much to hide that fact from him right now.

Atsushi bites his lip. He scoots a little closer and lays a hand between his shoulder blades, surprised to not see him lash out considering how much he wanted him gone.

“I’d be surprised if you had anything left to throw up,” Atsushi says with a quiet sigh.

“I don’t think I do,” Akutagawa mumbles back, “that’s - the problem.”

Atsushi tries to shift his hand a little in attempt to rub his back, give him some comfort, but he fliches at the sudden movement and Atsushi takes his hand back. It’s strange, how he won’t allow this despite the fact that Atsushi bathed him not too many hours ago. Maybe the fever was subduing him. Maybe he’s a little more with it now.

That’s good, he thinks, but it means Akutagawa is pushing him away.

Akutagawa lays down on his side in front of the toilet, slowly. almost holding his breath. He wraps both arms around his middle with a quiet groan and almost relaxes on the floor. Atsushi would rather he realx in his bed, but he’ll let him rest here for a moment before he makes him move.

Atsushi's pained to see how battered Akutagawa’s thin legs are. There's awful scars of all shapes and sizes - Atsushi can pick out several from bullets, he's able to recognize those fairly easily. There’s newer injuries, too, as new as the one on his shoulder, but none nearly as bad.

He doesn’t often think about the kinds of things Akutagawa has suffered through. He’s sure bullet wounds are just the surface, even despite how long something like that must take to heal, and the nasty scars they leave behind. It’s no wonder Akutagawa’s body can hold up long anymore, illness or not.

“Do you wanna go ahead and take it?” Atsushi asks him quietly, trying to ignore how loud his own thoughts are. “You can lay here for a little to see if it works. But I don't think you should sleep here.”

Akutagawa lets out a quiet, defeated groan, and reaches a hand out to take the pill from Atsushi. He watches him take it, but he can’t use that to ignore what he’s thinking.

He doesn’t think he could ever convince Akutagawa to leave the mafia, but he’s worried he won’t survive through it much longer in his condition.

Why does he care, anyway?

[misc-obeyme]

CC! CC! omg CEEEECEEEEE

I see kinktober prompts are still open and my other beloved, Mammon is open

May I request sub!mammon with Shibari (aka Mammon is the one being tied up) pretty pls 🥹👉🏻👈🏻

If we’re allowed 2 requests I’ll send one in for flufftober too 🥰 ty ily

Hi Silver!!

Okay okay I loooove shibari. I just think the rope patterns are so pretty??? I definitely did not spend a lot of time scrolling through pictures of it for "research purposes." Nope that is not a thing that I did.

Anyway, this is the first time I've written a scene about it, though, so hopefully it turned out okay!

Thank you for submitting a request!!

KINKTOBER 2023

GN!MC x Mammon

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: shibari, penetration (reader receiving), begging

Mammon watched you from where he was kneeling naked on his bed, his eyes roaming over your hands and the rope you held in them. It was a thick black rope, shot through with tiny strips of shimmering gold. Just the sight of it made his stomach clench, a combination of thrill and uncertainty.

When you first suggested this to him, Mammon was worried that he wouldn't be able to handle it. After all, how often had he been bound by Lucifer's ropes? Could he experience this with you now without having flashbacks of those endless hours spent strung up to the ceiling?

And yet Mammon knew it would be different. It was you. He trusted you. He had a hard time saying it, but he really did. And he was sure that you knew it, too. Because of that trust, he had agreed, willing to let you try. He was nervous, but he was also excited.

Already, things were different. That rope you were holding was beautiful. He knew you had chosen it for him, something that you thought would look even better in knots against his skin.

"Are you ready?" you asked.

Mammon nodded.

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to, you know," you said, clearly picking up on his nerves.

"No," he said firmly. "I want ya to tie me up. I want ya to use that pretty rope on me."

He saw the way your eyes filled with heat when he said these things to you. You nodded solemnly and he could see that you were trying to remain calm yourself.

Carefully and deliberately, you began to wrap the rope around his body. He shivered every time your fingertips brushed against his skin, shifting slightly as you pulled the rope into knots.

It was a slow and sensual process. You kept the rope taut while still keeping it loose enough to prevent damage. Mammon didn't know that you had studied the pattern you would be using, but he did notice the way you tied the ropes to mimic the white markings he had when he was in demon form.

The rope weaved across his body, a stunning symmetry of knots and geometry forming on his chest, around his hips, binding his wrists, and enclosing each of his thighs.

When you were done, you stood from the bed to look at him from the front.

Mammon strained slightly against the tightness that held him and met your eyes, face flushed and cock already erect.

You smiled, reaching out to brush back his hair and caress his cheek. "You're such a beautiful boy."

Mammon closed his eyes and breathed in sharply. He was overcome by his desire, by the sound of your voice, by your words. He opened his eyes and looked down at himself, down at the ropes that held him. They dug in just enough to bring him a sweet hint of pain.

"MC," he said and he flinched at how your name sounded like a whine, he was so desperate for your touch. Your fingertips against his cheek were not enough.

You came closer to him, looking into his eyes and he knew you could see the need in them. You ran your fingers down his neck, letting them trace the lines of the ropes until they finally moved ever so lightly up his cock.

"Please, MC, please," Mammon begged. He was squirming now, unable to hold still, wanting more sensation, but hardly able to move due to the way he was bound. He looked so perfect, his skin flushed, his eyes wide, his mouth open and panting, the rope winding around him so exquisitely.

You shrugged out of your own clothes, which you had kept on up until that point, and knelt in front of him on the bed. You took his cock in one hand and pushed the fingers of your other hand against his lips. Mammon opened his mouth for you obediently, happily sucking your fingertips into it and moaning around them.

You slowly ran your hand up and down his length, careful not to go too fast. Mammon whimpered against your fingers, and he knew he would be begging again if they hadn't been occupying his mouth. It wasn't enough and you both knew it.

You kept this up for some time, turning Mammon into a blubbering mess bit by bit. He was trying so hard to get you to give in, making all the sounds, reacting to every little thing, hoping that you would be overtaken by the sight of him in that rope you had so carefully picked out.

Just as he thought he couldn't take any more, you took your fingers out of his mouth. He was embarrassed by the way the air instantly filled with his voice, first a moan and then a flood of begging, most of which was just your name repeated over and over.

You pushed on his shoulders and Mammon fell back, squirming a little beneath you as you straddled his hips. His bound wrists rested neatly in the small of his back. He saw how your inner thighs were pressed against the ropes around his hips, watched as you sank onto his cock, your hands on his chest, gripping the ropes there.

Mammon moaned, unable to handle the way you looked as you rode him hard, your hands moving all over him, holding onto and slightly tugging the ropes here and there as you chased your pleasure. He arched his back to meet you, thrusting up to help you along, but also to feel you more.

Mammon couldn't think, he could only feel your heat, your weight on top of him, the grip of the rope against his skin, the sound of your heavy breathing and gasping moans.

Mammon couldn't keep his eyes off of you and watching you moan his name as you came above him caused him to lose himself entirely. Even as the ropes remained tightly tied, Mammon himself came undone beneath you.

Later, when the two of you had caught your breath, you would gently untie him, revealing ridged lines across his skin where the ropes had bit in. He shivered as you kissed along each one, the light feathery kisses so sweet against his still hot flesh. And as long as those marks remained, he would absently rub his fingers against them, his mind wandering to when he could next feel you tying the knots of those ropes around him.

flufftober | kinktober | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

taglist: @anxious-chick @t0tallycoolname @libidinous-weeb

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 14 - Bathing

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: This one is more "preface to a potential fic, as I try to figure out whether I can or want to write anything related to bathing" than anything remotely sexy. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. 🤷‍♀️ Early Act 2.

He hadn’t seen her since the morning.

They were done for the day. Ordinarily, she would have barged into his tent long ago, asking him whether he wanted a little snack, or sharing tidbits of camp gossip or other information. Or perhaps demanding some inane favour, or simply trying to drag him out to join the others around the fire. The absence of her voice was palpable. Where in the hells was she..?

It wasn’t that he missed her - he simply needed to check on her, in case… …Just in case.

Only a few of their group stayed at their camp near Last Light, the others having gone to the inn. She must have been there.

He found Lae’zel and Shadowheart sharing some grog in the common area of the inn, both looking more vexed than usual.

“Asmodea is holding up the bathing chamber,” said Lae’zel, without waiting for Astarion to voice the reason for his presence. “She’s been in there for over an hour. Go get her out.”

“She will take even longer with him in there too,” complained Shadowheart.

“I will knock the door down if you take too long,” Lae’zel called out after Astarion as he turned and walked in the direction of the bathing room.

The door was locked, no sound coming from behind it. Astarion knocked, cautiously.

“No,” sounded her voice.

“It’s me, darling,” he called out.

A silence held a few moments longer, but was quickly followed by the sound of the latch trembling, as though someone was shaking it, followed by annoyed swearing from deeper within the room, something about working on her spell precision. At last, he heard the latch flying open. Astarion entered the room.

“Lock the door behind you,” she drawled.

He observed the scene before him.

Steam filled the air - something that shouldn’t have been possible. The water had to be heated in massive kettles before it was brought to the bath - if she’d truly been in there for over an hour, there is no way it could have retained its heat this long.

Asmodea luxuriated in a massive tub, her head lying back against an edge, a towel under it. Her legs, crossed at the ankles, were thrown onto the rim. Vapour continued to rise from the water.

She ignored him, keeping her eyes shut, as he approached. For once, her face was clear of the colourful nonsense she usually painted on it, he noticed. She looked… strangely young and innocent without it, he thought.

She opened her eyes and peered at him from beneath her lashes.

“I am told you are hogging the amenities,” he said.

She only snorted and closed her eyes again.

“After the stunt I pulled today, I deserve it,” she said, and stretched lazily, with a satisfied sigh. “I haven’t had a hot bath in so long… When is the last time you had a hot bath, Astarion?”

As a matter of fact, he remembered his last hot bath clear as day. Some years back, Cazador had loaned him to some Upper City parasite. The man had told him to “wash his stink off” and left him alone in a gorgeous suite with functional hot water plumbing. On his return, he’d only stuck his tongue down Astarion’s throat once, before breaking down and blubbering about his wife cheating on him with a rival for the rest of the evening, until he finally drank himself into a stupor and passed out. …Not a bad night, overall.

“It’s been longer than I’d like,” said Astarion, approaching the tub and running his hand up an exposed shin. “How is the water still warm, anyway?”

“I have my secrets and tricks,” she said with a smile. A flame appeared in her palm, at a flick of her wrist. Another gesture and it was gone.

Astarion hummed and dipped one of his hands into the water, briefly, before hastily withdrawing it.

“Are you trying to boil yourself?! Is one of your secrets that you’re a fire mephit in disguise..?”

She only grinned at him, and shifted in the tub.

“You get used to it,” she said. “Now shut up and get in.”

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

[babytarttdoodoo]

The team somehow find out about what Jamie’s dad did in Amsterdam and are horrified/furious.

I’m skipping ahead to write this one because it won’t leave my brain alone. I apologise to all readers for the pain this is about to inflict.

If it makes you feel better, I am not okay after writing it.

It will also be in multiple parts since I really feel like the Reveal and the Reaction are things that need separate room to breathe.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (pending)

(Prompt Fill Masterpost)

—

It came down to the timing, really.

Every locker room Jamie had ever been in had worked its way around to this topic sooner or later. Especially in the Academy, where the typical teenaged obsession with ‘who had done it’ reigned supreme.

Jamie had never had a problem with it. He’d shrugged or laughed or lied and no one ever called him out. He was Jamie Fucking Tartt, after all.

He’d never had to breathe a word about Amsterdam.

Telling Roy had been a spur of the moment decision, and one that hadn’t really bothered him at the time. It hadn’t fundamentally altered their friendship or made Roy tiptoe around him (thank fuck).

But his reaction - Jesus. Must have been traumatising. - had played on Jamie’s mind. So much so that when his talks with Dr Sharon had broached the subject of ‘intimacy’, he thought it was probably worth bringing up.

Yeah. That conversation had gone a bit differently.

And now, here Jamie was, two days into processing his freshly unpacked trauma and his teammates were cheerfully regaling each other with stories about losing their virginity.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

“It was my last night before flying out here.” Sam was telling the group, a sweet, bashful smile on his face.

“Didn’t know you’d had a girlfriend back home.” Isaac chimed in.

“We had already decided to break up, instead of doing the whole long-distance thing,” Sam explained. “It was a nice way to say goodbye, though.”

There was a general sound of agreement and Richard took the opportunity to launch into a questionable story about charming a runway model at the ripe age of 17.

Jamie just continued getting changed in silence, letting the voices wash over him and trying not to let the sudden nausea show on his face. Removing his jersey felt like a Herculean task when all he wanted to do was get the fuck out of here.

Sam’s experience sounded like something out of one of Ted’s rom-coms. That was good. That’s what someone as nice as Sam deserved.

What had Jamie deserved, then?

He quickly cut off that line of thought. He didn’t want to do this. He didn’t want to think about it. Not here. Not now.

It was like trying to cover up an open wound when everyone else had a morbid impulse to poke at it.

A ripple of laughter pulled him back to the room and set his teeth on edge. He pulled a fresh shirt over his head and tried to breathe through the swelling, pulsating anger and shame that threatened to surface.

It was utter bullshit. He hadn’t thought about what had happened with anything more than vague disgust and detachment for years. A whole decade, even. Fuck Dr Sharon and Roy and all these giggling idiots for changing that.

“Oi, you’ve gone quiet, Jamie.”

A few curious eyes turned in his direction and the only thing that stopped him from shrinking away was years of playing at being untouchable.

Instead, Jamie scoffed and plastered on a smile, hiding his fists in his clothes and digging his nails as deep into his palms as they would go. “Eh, a gentleman never tells, mate.”

But he had hesitated a second too long and he saw the potential for mischief light up in a few faces. They knew him too well, he realised, the knowledge churning in his gut.

He wasn’t Jamie Fucking Tartt here. He was just Jamie.

“You are not a gentleman.” Richard stated bluntly, eyebrows raised and a grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

“That is true.” Jan agreed, because of course he fucking did. “You have bragged many times about being with women.”

“What happened, amigo?” It wasn’t fucking fair that Dani sounded so genuinely interested.

“Maybe she didn’t like his pink pants.” Isaac threw in and it drew another round of laughter. The noise echoed in Jamie’s head.

He knew, he knew they were just teasing because they didn’t know better. They were being dickheads because they were always kind of dickheads to each other. It was banter. On any other day it would be fine.

His neon underwear had nearly caused a riot the week before and it had been hilarious.

Why couldn’t he just act like it was funny now?

“It’s none of your fucking business.” he finally managed, not quite keeping the harsh edge out of his tone. He turned away and pretended to be looking for something in his bag so he wouldn’t have to meet anyone’s eyes.

“C’mon, mate, can’t be more embarrassing than mine.” Colin added easily, utterly comfortable with the conversation, in spite of all the implications it had for him specifically. Jamie really fucking admired that.

He was ridiculously, fiercely envious of it.

“Guys, he doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to.” Sam admonished lightly. He was offering him a liferaft and it rankled at Jamie in all the wrong ways.

He didn’t need fucking saving. He wasn’t some soft, delicate little thing that needed Sam Obisanya of all people rushing to his rescue.

Suddenly, he was speaking without having made any conscious decision to do so.

“14.” Jamie’s voice was too loud, too sharp in this safe space that on any other day felt like home. But his fingers were clenching and unclenching, and his shoulders were coiled tight, and there was a rushing in his ears.

The vitriol pooled like acid on his tongue and Jamie couldn’t help but spew it out before it began to eat him away.

“I were 14.” He smirked and it felt wrong. It felt cruel and bitter. He rounded on Colin and relished in the flicker of unease that crossed his face. “No fucking idea how old she were but I can tell you how much my dad paid for her to fuck me straight.”

The silence should have been oppressive, he thought distantly. The way the air stilled should have made it hard to breathe. The colour leaching from not just Colin’s face, but Jan’s and Richard’s on either side, should have been concerning.

It just felt freeing, in a twisted, emptying sort of way.

“Jamie-”

“No! No, it’s alright!” Jamie turned wild eyes and a manic grin on Sam, finding it abstractly funny that the younger player took a step back. “You wanted details, right?”

He shrugged, looking around at the slack faces of his teammates. He’d moved forward, he realised, making himself the centre of attention. Typical.

“Tell you what, yeah? Next time we’re in Amsterdam, I’ll take you all on a little tour. Don’t remember her name but I’m pretty sure I could find the place again, no problem.”

And he probably could. He remembered his dad talking to some bloke smoking in a doorway while Jamie stood in the rain, confused. He remembered loud people and neon lights all around. He remembered how the place had smelled when he’d been pulled inside…

Someone else was saying his name now. He didn’t care. He just got louder.

“You wanted a show, didn’t you Thierry? We could put on a repeat performance. Play-by-play reenactment, ‘cept you’ve got to think I can do better now, right? Better with age and all that.”

Arms closed around him from behind and whatever vile shit he was about to spray out into the atmosphere died in his throat. Jamie’s entire body bucked, trying to break away.

“Fuck off!”

It didn’t sound like his voice, a screeching snarl that cracked partway through.

“Jamie.” Roy’s voice in his ear. Roy’s arms around his chest. “Jamie. Stop. Don’t make it worse.”

And what response was there to that except to laugh? Fucking hilarious, that one. Too little too fucking late.

Jamie only registered that he was being half pulled, half carried out of the locker room when the laughter started to hitch in his chest. When the air wasn’t coming like it was supposed to. When Roy manhandled him into an office chair and the tears started in earnest.

All the fight went out of him like a marionette with its strings cut and he just cried.

(TBC)

[novella-november]

This isn't going to be another "you hate fanfiction!!" because very obviously you do not, but it is prompted by the discussion of branching out into original work, since it's something I often struggle with when trying to make that jump. Do you or any of your followers have any good resources on beginner worldbuilding? I really struggle with it.

Thank you!

If you check out my post where I made a "Prep Calendar" for Outline October (Which is a November-prep alternative/ supplement to Ominous October, the spooky short story event), I actually made a rather rough calendar outline of how to go about world building in advance for November;

The basic first steps for me are usually just three things:

Who are your characters

What kind of world do they live in (aka setting)

Whats your main plot/conflict?

To start worldbuilding at its lowest level, start with number one and work your way up; figure out what kind of character you'd like to write, where they live, and go from there!

Here is the prep calendar I threw together in MS paint, I definitely reccomend downloading it on desktop to actually zoom in to see what all it says lol.

And as a bonus, I will even make a fun, silly little exercise for anyone who'd like to get some practice in!

If you want to join in, grab a pen and pencil, or open up your favorite note-taking app :D

Here we go....!

Let's start out by saying that my basic concept for a character is *spins mental wheel of random ideas*....... a talking deer! 1) So now that I have decided that I want a talking deer character, now I have to decide: A) do *all*deer talk? B) Do *all* animals? C) Or is it just this one singular deer who is special? 2) If it *is* just this one singular deer who can talk, are they: D) otherwise a perfectly normal deer who just happens to be able to talk? E) Can they talk because they used to be human? F) Can they talk because they used to be an Alien or encountered Alien Tech (scifi) ? G) Can they talk because they used to be a Magical Creature or ran into a Magical Spell (fantasy) ? 3) Now you get to decide, mostly if you chose A or B from #1 but also useful for C : H) Is your story a more personal nature documentary, with realistic interactions between predators and prey? I) Is your story going to be a unique world where deer have built a society with technology and know how to defend themselves from predators? J) Is your story a unique world where all animals can talk and are equally sentient, therefore predators are revered as gods or keepers of the dead, who bring all back to the circle of life and prevent the spread of illness and disease, with older animals proudly going "to the wolves" to give their life to their brethren who consecrate the bones of the dead and keep resources plentiful? K) Or are predators the monsters in the dark, the teeth that bite, the slavering jaws that kill to live and *cannot live any other way*, so has learned not to regret? L) Or even, predators who feed from the already-dead when they can, and eat their fill of berries, nuts and fruits when they cannot, because they do not wish to take the lives of others for their own sake?

*clears throat* ahem. Drama done (can you see why I love worldbuilding) ,

go ahead and pick a letter from each of the above options, and jot them down on your paper or note-taking app.

You now have: A basic character, their backstory, and a basic setting!

From three-ish questions from a basic idea, you can spawn multiple possibilities, each of which can branch off into their own unique iterations!

Here's a few more, if you'd like to continue the exercise as further practice:

What is your deer's name?

What do they look like / what kind of deer are they? (deer of various species are found over almost the entire world, so there is tons of variety! :D )

What kind of world do they live in?

How do they interact with humans?

*are* there humans in your story?

What kind of zany or terrifying adventures would your talking deer and a human go on?

What kind of adventures would your talking deer go on with other deer or other animals?

How does your deer get along with other species?

Do they have friends from other species?

Do they have rivals from other species?

Do they have *sworn enemies* from other species?

Do they have a *love interest* from another species?

etc!

I am hoping this game/exercise is helpful, my brain being both autistic and ADHD means I am, at the drop of a hat, ready to start spouting more and more ideas sparked from a single concept at any given moment!

And yes, if you did this exercise, please feel free to use your deer character in a story, draw art of your deer character, etc!

If this exercise was helpful to you or fun, please feel free to tag any deer creations with "NovellaDeer" , I'd love to see them!

You can easily adapt this exercise to any story concept you need to worldbuild; pick what basic idea you have for a main character, and start asking yourself questions about them and their circumstances, and let yourself come up with multiple, contradicting answers for each question; the more the merrier!

After you've decided which starting answers you like the most, you can work your way down the list, asking follow-up questions, and before you know it you will have your very own original character :D

And do not feel like you need to keep your character exactly the way they start out as; characters evolve over time, and you may find yourself changing their "base" character to suit your story or to suit your tastes as you get more experienced with writing and world building!

[zenkai-icons]

Quick-N'-Easy Icon Editing Set-up with Krita!

I'm sure there are already a few tutorials like this one out there, but hey, what can one more hurt?

What's this do?: Krita has features you can use so you can make quick edits to your icons all at once, and save them all out individually with the press of a button. It's a great time-saver, and gives you a lot of flexibility in your edits!

What you'll need:

Krita, a free and open-source painting / image editing program!

Icons!

Part 1: How to export your icons all at once.

( warning: long and image-heavy! Written with beginners in mind. )

Once you open Krita, you'll want to go to Window > Workspace > Animation on the uppermost bar to change the layout for what we'll need, here.

We're going to be using Krita's animation features to make iconing / icon-editing a little easier.

( as an extra note, hitting '1' on your keyboard will set Krita's zoom to the image's actual size, while '2' will have it fill the available space. Helpful for seeing how your icons will appear on the dash. )

Okay, let's get started! Make a new image ( File > New or press Ctrl + N ), set it to whatever dimensions you want ( I default to 100x100px ). Make a new layer ( Click the plus icon in the layers tab, or press ins ), and then put that layer in a group ( Right-click the layer and click group > quick group, or press Ctrl+G while its selected. )

With that grouped layer selected, Grab your icons, and click & drag them into Krita, onto the canvas ( the big empty grey space in the center ). When Krita prompts you, select 'insert many layers.' This will load in each image as its own layer. If you don't have the grouped layer selected, you'll have to select them all and put them back in the group. ( No big deal, just shift + click the first and last layers, and drag them where you need them. )

You can now delete your initial paint layer in the group, if you want. Otherwise it will make an 'empty' icon when we export.

Select that group, then go to Layer > Convert > Convert Group to Animated Layer on the top bar. ( This is only accessible through the top bar, not the menu that appears when you right-click on a group. I don't know why. )

Congrats! Now all your icons are frames in an animation. Each cell on the timeline is a single icon. If you have a scroll wheel, you can scroll to quickly look through them all.

If you can't see all of your icons on the timeline, click the three bars here and set 'clip end' to whatever number of icons you have ( or a little more, for extra wiggle room. )

Find the last filled cell, right-click it and select 'set end time.'

When you're ready, hit File > Render animation.

You'll want to make sure you set it to export as an image sequence, and select where you want your icons to go on your computer. Give them a naming scheme. Make sure you save before you export your icons, as I've had Krita crash while exporting a large number of icons all at once. ( If it does this to you, just try again. Worst comes to worst, you can export by setting the first frames and last frames to smaller chunks instead of all at once. )

Hit OK and voila! No more saving icons out one-by-one!

Of course, we haven't done any editing yet, so this is all redundant unless you're saving out your own freshly-cropped icons. Let's move onto the fun part:

Part 2: Editing

Right-click your new group layer and hit add > filter mask. Choose any you want- for demonstration purposes, I'll be using my favorite: gradient map.

This will put that filter over all frames in that animation layer, meaning you won't have to repeat your edits per icon.

If you want to edit your filter mask after you click off, just right-click it in the layer tab and select 'properties.' It will bring the initial prompt up again for you to adjust.

You can add as many filter masks as you want! The order the layers are in does matter, though, so keep that in mind.

If you want to add frames, banners, name tags, symbols etc, you can do that on layers over or under that animation layer! They'll stay consistent across the 'animation' unless you add new frames to them on the timeline.

If you want to edit your icons again, just do so, and re-export! If the naming scheme and numbers are the same, Krita will automatically overwrite the old files. But watch out; if you're trying to save new icons, make sure you start numbering at a higher number than your last icon, or change the base name.

Happy iconing!

[2024-grimoire-challenge]

December Prep 2

Let's look into a couple of things this week The first is how to properly study, research and gather information and the second is the various kinds of prompts you will see in the challenge throughout the year.

The basic steps in any research process are

Identify and develop your topic (we will have multiple so it will be important to follow the same steps for each topic.)

Preliminary search for information - we will be gathering a list of resources for everyone before the challenge begins including websites, a list of recommended books, and more.

Locate the information/ materials - Gather all your sources into one place! A folder on your pc, or a bookmark bar in your browser can go a long way to helping you keep this organized.

Evaluate and use Discernment on your informational sources.

Take notes! - self explanatory. Using the resources at your disposal, take notes on your selected topic, gather all of those notes, and keep them organized. You don't need to think of this in exact terms of a research paper, but the idea is the same! All of your notes will be helpful in actually filling and creating the pages for your grimoire! But, you also can just keep the notes as they are in your grimoire!

Now lets get on to the types of prompts you will see!

Meditation/ Journal - these will generally be the end of every week and after every practical prompt, so you can look back at what you've done and learned, in order to help you process what you'd done and how you feel and think about it.

Research/ Study - these will include things like herbs, gems, types of magical practices and topics, tools, history

Practical/ Hands on - at least one a week, where you get your hands dirty, so to speak, and really perform some magic or do the work you're studying.

Submissions - I encourage everyone to share their thoughts, ideas, and physical progress within the challenge. You don't have to share pictures, if you're not comfortable, but thoughts and ideas and a short post about what you accomplished!

Holiday/ Seasonal posts - We'll have posts for the typical holidays and some that not so common.

Divination prompts - On occasion we'll have a divination prompt. It won't necessarily require you to perform any divination if you're not comfortable or don't know how, but the option will be there!

Cooking prompt - We've all seen those cool witchy inspired cooking posts on this site. So why not do one? Why not learn to make bread? Or mead? Or cute little pastries? Or anything. This'll be a new prompt, one I encourage everyone to take part in and share!

There may be more of these added as we go, but in general this is all of the types of posts we'll be seeing!

What else is there to do?

Well if you’ve already got notes somewhere (a notebook or files on your computer or what have you) you’re gonna want to actually design a grimoire right? And this is a grimoire challenge right? So let’s look at different design and style options!

If you’ve seen the video I posted of my grimoire pages, they’re very scrapbook/ junk journal styled. Which is a fun and totally customizable option.

Let’s look at some note taking methods, to help us take notes as well as design our grimoire pages, and some scrapbook supplies and ideas for ways to decorate our grimoires.

https://crm.org/news/note-taking-methods#:~:text=There%20are%20many%20different%20methods,and%20Bullet%20Method%2C%20among%20others.

These are just a few links for some ideas.

Your grimoire should suit you, no matter how you choose to design and decorate it. It could be a scrapbook like mine, a bullet note journal, or a leather bound tome with thick ink lettering in a cipher that only you can read. However you want to design it, it should be an expression of you and your practice.

I am excited to be running this challenge again, and to be helping all of your find inspiration for your practices and grimoires!

Good luck and happy crafting!

Mod Hazel

[sovonight]

since i've written radri's whole ace discovery journey i felt like making notes

waiting: normally this is the kind of scene where i'd have the "wait i'm ace" discussion, but that discussion already takes place in the "recognition" comic set after this (bc i'd made the comic before i knew i was going to fill out so many more blanks for them), so i had to go the route of radri not knowing/being able to clearly define what she feels yet.

i'm kind of glad for that, really; i'd thought about retconning the recognition comic, but every take i had on radri or xan bringing that discussion up here just didn't feel quite right. also, i was mainly considering retconning bc i was worried about what someone might think of radri for walking into a life-altering bond without knowing before the commitment is made that she won't be able to follow through on sex--and i was like wait. stop. that's such a stupid thing to hold against someone

reading it back, i don't know if i made it obvious enough that what she's feeling isn't just nervousness--that weight in her chest is her knowing that deep down the answer is no. following it up with her clear desire for their bond shows (hopefully) that she does know what she wants, and thus what she doesn't want--she's just not able to recognize or verbalize the latter in the moment

also, i like that xan's clearly able to read her (he correctly recognizes that she's afraid) but he's also so nervous and in his own head about it that he projects his own worries onto her fear/hesitance. yeah i know... i wrote it... but i just like having xan be both right and wrong

recognition: this was prompted by a banter between jaheira and imoen, where jaheira tries to give imoen a talk about contraceptives and imoen acts completely clueless; i saw that and was like oh, i could definitely use this to have radri pick up on that cliffhanger with xan. i don't have a solid explanation for why jaheira's waited this long to bring it up with radri, since in general i would've expected this to happen shortly after radri & xan's very public confession of love, but let's say jaheira knows radri well enough that she can tell that it's only after the bond that radri's started thinking about it. (also, i bet after radri & xan shared their first kiss radri went around beaming secretively to herself and jaheira was internally like "they've done it, haven't they" only for radri to confess that they ~just kissed~ for the ~first time~. at that point i think jaheira readjusted her mental timeline for them)

anyway, xan's part in the lead-up to this is that he recognized she was ace and then accepted it wordlessly. honestly i think he saw it as such a non-issue that he didn't think radri would still be worried about answering his request. also, in his mind he's already gotten his answer; he said that sex can wait until she wishes for it -> he recognizes through the bond that she does not wish for it -> sex will happen never -> ok, moving on

desire: i wrote the draft for this in 2 mornings and it was one of the most surprisingly effortless sequence of events i've written for them (unlike "waiting," which was a struggle all the way through, but i guess that was mainly due to how i wanted to keep as much of the original material as i could).

i tried to write it in a way that showed that this isn't unlocking sexual acts for them--the act just happens to be the right backdrop to let them share everything else they do in this fic. y'know? any sort of sequel to this scene isn't going to be the next rung up on the sexual progression ladder, but just more discovery and intimacy.