#magnum drabble

[sexbot300]

daily texts with naoya, kenjaku, and mahito! ♡

contents: 18+, mdni. every day texts with the sweetest boys ♡ naoya, kenjaku, and mahito included.

cw: fluff, cumplay, bukkake, squirting

a/n: just have sm love 4 them. not at all satire.

[junkissed]

some quick updates !

first, i just turned in my last final so i'm officially on winter break woo!!!!! :D i have been DYING to start writing again and now that my responsibilities are out of the way i finally can :)) i can't make any promises how often i'll post because life is still busy in other ways, but i have more down time rn and i'm so excited to get back into writing <3

secondly!! if you've been following me for a while you'll know that i'm in a collab with my dear friend mars @onlymingyus called the king's gambit, and after a long break we've finally started working on it again!! it's by far my longest fic and i am so so excited to finish this collab that's been almost 2 years in the making. we are planning on making a new masterlist and taglist soon so please keep an eye out for that, and feel free to send asks if there's more you want to know! there is no release date yet as we're not finished writing but we appreciate your patience so much and i promise we are going to get it out soon!!

my wips (including tkg) are updated here :)

[gabbi-gabz-a-lot]

Final Chapter!!

At last. She is finito! Done-ion rings! Signed sealed and delivered!!

I have written 10,000 words for this niche ship that has lived in a special place in my heart since i was a tween. And there's gonna be more in the future, but for now I'm gonna rest on my laurels that i saw this through to the end.

[septic-dr-schneep]

@whumpril Day 19: "I need you."

“C-Captain Magnum? Can you hear me? It’s Eric. I-I came as soon as I could. Dr. Iplier says you were in a…s-shipwreck.” Forcing the word out left a bitter coating on Eric’s tongue, the same bitterness he’d tasted when he was the one in the hospital bed, the nurse’s face filled with pity as she explained the bus crash. But this wasn’t about him.

Captain Magnum was always larger than life, with his booming voice and weathered grin and slaps on the back (and Eric was so small, it was a wonder Magnum wasted any time on him.) He wasn’t supposed to be so pale and still…so lifeless.

“I’m here to ask you to wake up,” Eric whispered, dipping his fingers under his glasses to wipe his eyes. “P-Please? Because it…it’s really scary seeing you like this. I’m—I can’t—please, just…I need you to wake up. I need you.”

[trashbinbackyard]

Songs for immortals

Lucien - Used to the darkness

Maya - Carrion comfort

Viessa - The space between

Dimos - Firelights

Nemeli - My body is not mine

Temüülen - The rider

Sääksi - Lanternlight

[itsjustdg]

So a (not on Tumblr) fandom friend and I may have written every single one of these for @vix-has-arrived's birthday at the end of August. 😎

Finally getting around to posting tonight, so I thought I'd leave the link here in case anyone is interested: https://archiveofourown.org/series/3711139

Lots of short, whumpy and angsty goodness (with some comfort thrown in but don't really count on much lol)

Here's the full linked list with fandoms included:

Leverage: "I know you're hurt."

Almost Paradise: "You're burning up."

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries: "Just breathe."

The Brave: "I don't feel good."

Almost Paradise: "Eyes on me! C'mon keep those eyes on me."

Leverage: Redemption: "That's a lot of blood."

Almost Paradise: "Come on, breathe, breathe, don't you dare–"

Timeless: "How long were you planning on hiding this?"

Leverage: "Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you."

FUBAR: "I can't find a pulse!"

Almost Paradise: "Don't you dare die on me."

Hudson & Rex: "Everything's okay, go back to sleep."

Almost Paradise: "can't–breathe–"

Almost Paradise: "I won't hurt you."

Leverage: Redemption: "Talk to me."

Almost Paradise: "Stay still."

Private Eyes: "You don't look so good."

Magnum P.I.: "I think I'm gonna–"

Magnum P.I.: "Tell me where you are, I'll come get you."

Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries: "Please stop."

Blood & Treasure: "How much sleep did you get last night?"

Almost Paradise: "It's over now."

Leverage: "I'm okay. You don't need to worry about me."

Timeless: "You're not supposed to be up and about."

Terra Nova: "Go to sleep. I'll still be here when you wake up."

Pick a number, get a drabble

Hurt/Comfort Dialogue Prompts

"I know you're hurt."

"You're burning up."

"Just breathe."

"I don't feel good."

"Eyes on me! C'mon keep those eyes on me."

"That's a lot of blood."

"Come on, breathe, breathe, don't you dare--"

"How long were you planning on hiding this?"

"Easy, easy. You're okay, I've got you."

"I can't find a pulse!"

"Don't you dare die on me."

"Everything's okay, go back to sleep."

"can't--breathe--"

"I won't hurt you."

"Talk to me."

"Stay still."

“You don’t look so good.”

“I think I’m gonna – ”

“Tell me where you are, I’ll come get you.”

“Please stop.”

“How much sleep did you get last night?”

“It’s over now.”

“I’m okay. You don't need to worry about me.”

"You're not supposed to be up and about."

“Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

[abyssyby]

where the light touches

— a cold war brews between you and sylus in the trenches of the night; mornings are for making amends.

ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ: so the dragon's hoard photo album on sylus's phone drabble has been running in my mind since i wrote it, and now that post might just be another masterlist. magnum opus is a godsend and i just love his laugh, i wanna hear him giggle and laugh forever okay ( ;´ - `;) a little origin story of some videos that are saved in his "sleeping 📂" album. this is part one. enjoy! ❀-urs

sylus x reader | fluff, comfort, giggly!sylus, overdramatic!reader (we love them), banter, morning cuddles

You rise with the sun. It has always been this way. Whether it’s tendrils seeping in through the curtains just as the planet turns to face Helios caressing you gently or it blasting you the heat of its full concentration by noon, you will rise in the day. 

Sylus rises with the moon. Something you’ve envied. A more tranquil beginning to wake underneath the gentle caress of a radiant pearl, to the silence of the world. He acts accordingly as well, unhurried and unperturbed by the bustle of life. Calm and collected, a sharp contrast to your energetic and flurried morning body. A more peaceful existence.

And yet, he insists on rising with you. 

Heat wakes you this morning, but not from the angry ball of gas in the sky. No, this is warmth. An internal, direct sensation that radiates from behind, from another body, another soul.

Your eyes open slowly to the gradience of the emerging sun. Darkened values of the world edging carefully with its celestial hue. A reflexive worry grips at you. Hammer to a tendon, your muscles twitch to stand— toward the curtains. To draw them closed before it all becomes blinding. 

But the vice-like grip around your waist keeps you in place. An indignant grumble tickles the hairs on the nape of your neck and sends shivers down your spine. Sleepy, raspy, deep. “Stop.” 

Still tangled in the webs of your own fatigue, you respond. “The windows—“ 

“Leave them.” he sighs, like a formidable ancient creature, and strengthens his hold around you. In one smooth motion, he flips you both from your spot. Now, his back is to the light and you are shielded from it. An instinct-driven movement, to keep you from something that he cannot stand. 

Then comes the realization that you bask in this, and so he flattens himself to the mattress ever so slightly so that the light touches your features just so. Through his half-lidded gaze, he takes pride in the decision, watching your majesty glow like molten gold. 

Sylus has sensitive eyes. You know this, you’ve seen it before, when you idled too much after waking to watch him sleep. Meanwhile, the light had slithered in through the windowed walls. Silken features scrunch, a deep crease formed between his brows, and a sizzling wince escaped his lips. 

You were quick to kiss the pain away, thinking it was nightmares that plagued him. But when his lips curled and he met you with squinted eyes that smiled just as divinely at the corners, you realize the transgressor was more luminescent than haunting. 

You stay, then, in his arms. Cocooned perfectly like he was made for you. Like you were two halves of the same whole. 

And he holds you. Like you were made for him to. Quietly, stubbornly— unwilling to let the morning steal you from him just yet. 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

Waking is a slow process on the rare days when the world does not call upon you. A collection of soft kisses and gentle whispers; quiet intentions and passionate touches. You are never angry, never troubled, not when the soul—yours and his—is complete. 

He mourns you when you draw away from him— “gotta pee”. After his dramatic protests, your efforts of being free from his fly-paper grasp and your cat-like fists pushing at his chest to “let me go! or i’ll go right here!”, he eventually relents and you waddle over the cold marble floors to your throne.

Alone, he sits up in bed and takes in the light that consumes the room with an irritated scowl. It urges him to catch the duvet that had fallen to his bare waist and pull it over his head. Under the covers, he checks his phone. 

Messages from the twins reporting on a finished mission (to which he replies a clipped ‘ok’). Offers from business partners he had little to no interest in. Invitations to auctions and galas. Updates on the available plushies at your favorite arcade this week. Incident reports. 

Trivial. Unnecessary. Boring. 

Until he finds one— buried amongst them all— so glaringly different and alarming. A text message, sent four hours ago— from you. 

Curious, he opens your thread of messages. 

Beloved: How could you do this to me You will pay. This is unforgivable

And before he even has the time to panic, he scrolls to see the video attached to it. Its obscure darkness and suspicious angle does nothing to deter him.  

And as it plays, he cannot hold back his smile. 

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

The mound on your bed is laughing. Jostled wine, spilling at the edges of glass. Breathy, rich and smooth; rare and familiar all at once. Signature exhale, fond and effortful, clear as the giggling ends. 

You crawl over the covers, towards the trembling hump and poke at where his head should be. The veil comes off, and mirthful rubies meet your inquisitive gaze. You take in his grin, and then the phone in his hand, “What’s so funny? Can I see?” 

Air meets your hand where the phone should be after your attempt at a grab. He looks annoying, looking at you like that: like he knows something you don’t. Dopey heart-eyes with an edge. Unconsciously, you pout, which fuels his mischievous fire. “What’s is it?” 

Buttering him up is a sight for him to behold. You curl around him, fitting yourself under the weight of his arm and kissing his jaw to convince him to give it up. A cat seeking comfort. A snake strangling its prey. “Tell me.” 

And the melody starts again, hitching in his chest and shaking you whose cheek rests on his shoulder. He cannot fathom how you could be everything he’s ever wished for— how could you be quick-witted, clever, strong, courageous and hilarious? You’re adorable and so, so funny. 

“Aren’t you fuming with anger?” he’s breathless. You’ve never seen him so. “Aren’t I just evil? Vile?” 

You pause. What? Why would he say that? Why is he saying it in a way that implies you should know what it means? “Sylus, I don’t…” 

At the hesitant look on your face, complete with twinkling puppy-dog eyes and a slightly jutted lip, he can’t help but lean in and kiss your forehead. White flag raised, because he is helpless to a power like you. He pulls you close, and finally shows you the video.  

Brightness is all the way up and, on the edge, you see him toggle with the volume too. The video starts with you being attacked by the front facing flash. You wince, but then go straight into your very serious, very important lamenting.

“Look at you,” you murmur, the sound scratching against your throat as if still crawling away from the grasp of a dream. The focus shifts to Sylus, fast asleep, burrito-ed in the large comforter. Love of your life, tether to the world; giant larvae. “Evil… vile.” 

The last word you grate through your teeth with so much venom, one would assume he’d betrayed you. 

It crosses your mind though, as you watch, how deeply he was sleeping. How untroubled and peaceful he looked, no matter how much you shook him around in your own frenzied irritation. When usually, he’d wake fully at the sound of your breath hitching from a nightmare.

In the video, you continue: face close to his own, pressing your lips to his cheek because it was mandatory. His lips twitch but he shows no signs of waking. “Tsk. I’m mad. I’m cold? I’m cold and I’m mad. Count your days.” 

The video ends. Beneath it, you read your equally vehement text messages. Sent 2:43 AM. 

Sylus is laughing again, subtly pulling you closer to apologize while the memory comes back to you in vague waves of annoyance.

Waking up shivering, feeling for the blanket, feeling for him— finding both out of reach. You prying the edge from under his large body— how the hell did he manage to roll in it at least twice?— settling for pressing your cold feet underneath his warm calves and praying your torso doesn’t freeze overnight as sleep captures your ire and douses the flames for then. 

But this is now. 

“Darling—“ he wheezes at your bewilderment. Lips pressing to your hair fondly, over and over. Likely getting that thing he feels he’d just learned the term for— aggression. Cuteness aggression.  

Unfortunately for him, it all rushes back. The fire is blazing, scalding. “Oh, I’m mad.” 

And he fears for his life behind the imprints of crowfeet on the corners of his teary eyes. Ever one to play with his own life, he still pushes. “Are you?” 

“You hog!” A quick attack. You whack his face with a pillow and he’s cackling. The thought of stopping and relishing in his bellyaching, carefree laughter crosses your mind for a split second, before you’re climbing his waist and squeezing the smooth skin of his hollow cheeks. “You left me to freeze!” 

“I didn’t know, sweetie.” He’s gorgeous when he speaks between chuckles. Speech bursting like hiccups of devotion. 

“What are you, a rock? I was pulling so much and— nothing!” 

He takes another blow. “You should’ve woken me up.”

“I tried.” You pause. You did. A little. But you couldn’t bring yourself to, not fully. Not when he sleeps terribly. Not when you’re the only rest he’s ever known. 

And he knows this, reads it in the way you falter. That look on your face that tells him you’re thinking about him, his wellbeing. Putting him first, still, through the haze of exhaustion; despite the blistering cold. Considering him and how he would feel to wake up in the sunlight you bathe in, sunlight he cannot stand if it were not for you. 

He doesn’t understand how you do this to him by just being. He fears how much you know him, how much he allows himself to be lured in and be exposed by you. When in the same breath, he’d lay his heart bare to you and hand you a dagger to do with it as you please.

He falls— deeply, effortlessly. Rolls in your affection twice over and more like he did in the blanket he stole in his sleep. Because just as easily as he did that with his eyes closed, he can so easily love you.

Fast, the pillow swings up by your arm, you strain to gain momentum to smack it down on his chest once more. Faster, his large hand catches your wrists in a vice, then he is pulling your face down to his. 

Laughter, both youthful and deep, bursts from his chest. His radiance ghosts over your cheek, weightless and warm. 

Just as you swoon in his joy, his heart aches at yours. It is the sun giving the moon light. The way you barely notice the wide smile on your face despite your desperate need to silence him in awkwardness. The way you try to reign in your strength with each strike despite knowing he can take the brunt of it. The way you look on top of him. The way the weight of you grounds him to this earth. The way you are so shamelessly you in this moment— he can’t help but reflect you, revere you. 

Meanwhile, you’re lovestruck and dumb. So beautiful, you think, about the hollowed dimples on his cheeks, about the curve of his relaxed smile— about the enemy. He is the enemy. 

And the enemy has soulful eyes, sorrowful as they are loving. The enemy tastes the sweetest when he is kissing your embarrassment to silence, when he is whispering, “I’m sorry.” 

You hum in defeat, melting in his affection, utterly human. Flawed and weak in the face of love. 

“I’m sorry.” He says again, slower. The words sighed against your lips. Mouth embracing yours tenderly to let you know he means it.

𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 𓇢𓆸 ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

part two: where shadows rest

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ more sylus thoughts ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

thank you for reading!

[diamonddaze01]

PEDAL TO THE METAL (series masterlist)

🏁 IT'S LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO! 🏁

Welcome to the world of F1, where the cars go fast, the stakes go higher, and the drama never lifts off the throttle. Seventeen rules the grid—from precision strategies to podium glory. Whether it’s navigating a hairpin turn or a tricky love confession, the tension is always at maximum revs. So tighten your harness and adjust your visors—this isn’t just a race; it’s the ride of a lifetime.

🏁 N O T E S : this has been in the works for far too long, and i owe it to @ylangelegy for yanking it out of my head and putting it on paper. i hope you love my magnum opus as much as i love writing it <3 without further ado, welcome to pedal to the metal !

🏎️ in the cockpit: ferrari driver!jeonghan x journalist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic HERE (part i) and HERE (part ii) 🚥 sprint results: [on the record] [off the record] [bad for business]

📝 post race analysis: jeonghan's not used to someone who pushes his buttons as easily as you do, and you're not used to someone who challenges you as quickly as he does. maybe it's time to go full throttle, both on and off the track.

🏎️ in the cockpit: ferrari driver!soonyoung x publicist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: a ferrari driver who loathes media day, a publicist who’s one press conference away from losing it, and enough tension to power the entire grid—because apparently, managing his PR disasters isn’t in the job description for falling for him.

🏎️ in the cockpit: mclaren driver!mingyu x strategist!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: when the fastest driver on the grid has a habit of ignoring orders and the loudest strategist in the paddock has zero patience for his antics, the result isn't what everyone expects. but one thing's for sure: everyone hears the team radio.

🏎️ in the cockpit: aston martin driver!seokmin x f1 vlogger!reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff, angst, smut

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: for the first time in his life, seokmin realizes he wants something he can’t just reach out and take.

🏎️ in the cockpit: williams driver! hansol x engineer! reader

𖦹 track: humor, fluff

🏆 qualifying results: read the teaser here! 🏁 race results: read the full fic here! 🚥 sprint results: read associated drabbles here!

📝 post race analysis: There were a million things you expected on your first day at Williams, but a driver waiting for you at your desk with a napkin sketch in hand was not one of them.

[eternal-evergreens]

Can you please do a yandere sukuna x fem reader

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧ "Iron Forged In Blood" ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post format: drabble

Pairing: Yandere! Sukuna x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: abusive household, period-typical misogyny (not from Sukuna), violence, light gore, theft

"Please spare my son!" Your mother cried, a protective hold on your younger brother. "If no one else, please spare his life!" Your father nods ardently, encasing your mother and brother in an embrace.

What a touching sight---for a family of three. Ryomen Sukuna, the monster who pillaged your town, looks down at your family with disdain.

"You beg for your son, but not for your daughter?" He asks. "How pathetic."

Your mother stiffens, a look of horror etched upon her face. Your father's expression morphs into anger.

"Our son is the pride of our family! He's the one who will succeed my craft!" He yells. "My daughter, in comparison, is just a useless girl."

That's not true, you think to yourself. Your brother shows absolutely zero talent for blacksmithing, despite being personally taught by your father. You had to teach the craft to yourself, in a futile attempt to win his favor.

"You're an embarrassment," your father said, throwing your first sword to the ground with a clang.

"We feed you, clothe you, and yet all you do is throw yourself into useless things! Don't you know a woman's only purpose is to marry into a good family?"

"Ungrateful wench! Are you trying to show up your brother?"

Your father's lips curl up into a wicked smile. "But since your lordship has shown such concern over her," he says slowly, as if testing the waters. "Perhaps she can be of some use to our family after all."

Ryomen Sukuna raises an eyebrow.

"Please spare our family," your father says. "In return, please take our daughter, and do with her what you will." Your jaw drops. You aren't sure what you're feeling right now. Shock? Disbelief? Fear? Anger?

Perhaps you are feeling all four.

"I've listened to your useless ramblings long enough." In a flash, your father's head is separated from his body. Your mother screams, and your brother begins to wail. Blood splashes to your face, but you don't react. The world is spinning, the cries of your family are ringing in your ears, but all you can focus on is one thing.

"In return, please take our daughter, and do with her what you will."

The screams of your mother are cut abruptly short. Next is your brother. Only you remain.

Should you beg for your life? What would be the point? You'll never be a blacksmith, anyways. You'll never earn the recognition of your peers. Not as a woman, anyways.

"You," he says, commanding. You look up numbly. "Give me one good reason I shouldn't kill you alongside your kin." You blink, looking down at your lap.

"I'm afraid there is none, my lord," you say to him, voice and face devoid of any emotion. "Like my father said, I am just a useless girl."

"Oh?" The monster sounds amused. "Your arms are quite muscular," he says. "Are you a blacksmith?"

"I'm not very good," you say.

"Uraume," he calls.

"Yes, master." A white haired person steps forth from the shadows, head bowed.

"Bring me the sword."

"Yes, master." Just as quickly as they appeared, the servant vanishes, returning with a sword black as obsidian. Your sword. Your magnum opus. "Here it is," they say, presenting it to Sukuna.

"Did you make this?" You nod. You don't know how he got his hands on it, but that's definitely your sword. The same sword your father confiscated and threw away, stating you'd be lucky if those calloused hands would ever house a ring.

"You aren't aware of it, but you possess potent cursed energy, it's been etched onto this sword. Meanwhile, that 'father' of yours had no talent for sorcery at all." You don't follow, but knowing it would be unwise to question him, you keep your head bowed. "Listen up," he says, voice commanding authority. "You have a talent. Continue to make swords for me, and your life will be spared. Refuse and you will perish alongside these worthless rats you call your family."

You...have a talent? That can't be right. No, rather, it wouldn't matter even if it was. Because you're a...

"But I'm a-" Sukuna scoffs.

"I've fought countless sorcerers in my life," he says. "Both men and women. Most are equally untalented, but there are some that have been strong."

"Raise your head," he commands. Your eyes meet his. There's an expression in them you can't quite make out. "Strength does not have a gender. Nor does talent. Follow me and you will not be looked down upon again."

This man...he believes in you. He sees your worth.

"If I follow you, will I be a blacksmith?" You ask tentatively.

"What an idiotic question," he says. "You already are."

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

After working under Sukuna for some time, you've come to realise some things about him. Namely, that he does not pillage for no reason. There's always a motive, an underlying goal to achieve.

"My lord," you say, having just finished polishing a new spear. Sukuna is watching you from the edge of your workshop. He has a habit of coming to you whenever he gets bored. Though you don't make very good company when you're working, he doesn't seem to mind. "May I ask you a question?"

"Hmph. Ask."

"Why...did you choose my village?"

"Do I need a reason?" His tone is challenging, imposing. He speaks as though you need to watch your words, lest he cut out your tongue for impudence. You know him better than that, though. It's not a threat. Not if it's you. You look at him expectantly and he scoffs. "That sword..."

"Hm?"

"When Uraume presented it to me, I thought finding the craftsman behind its creation and forcing them to work for me would be an amusing way to pass the time. But the man who claimed to have made it didn't possess even a lick of cursed energy."

"There was a group of bandits that picked a fight with Uraume. They lacked talent, but one of them was wielding a sword that almost made up for it."

"Was that...?" Sukuna nods.

So your father had stolen your work to pass off as his own. If you had found this out even just a few weeks ago, you would have been devastated. Now, you feel nothing.

"I thought you'd be more upset," he says, eyeing you. You shrug.

"It's in the past. My father has already paid for his crimes in death. There's no need to let it bother me anymore," you say, face blank. The expression you're wearing is eerily similar to the one you wore that day. Sukuna shifts uncomfortably.

"Perhaps he did not suffer enough." Sukuna smiles. "If it would please you, I could have him ripped from his grave and brought back to the world of the living so that you may do away with him yourself."

"Like you'd go through all that effort just for someone like me," you say, a hint of teasing in your voice. You think you hear Sukuna say something else, but his voice is so low you can't make it out.

"There's little I wouldn't be willing to do, not if it's for you."

[moongirlcleo]

Masterpiece - a drabble

❤︎  tags and content: body worship, oral, f!reader x rafayel ❤︎  author note: check out all my fics by searching #moongirlcleo or on AO3

🔞NSFW content - Minors DNI 🔞 Dividers: @/cafekitsune Fic: @moongirlcleo  

The sea murmured against the glass of his ocean-view studio, moonlight filtered through salt-slick windows and spilled across the floor like liquid silver. The candles had long since burned low, their flickering glow throwing long shadows over scattered canvases and jars of pigment. Somewhere between his need to paint and his need for you, Rafayel had made a decision—one that involved neither brushes nor restraint.

You were sprawled across a long chaise draped in linen, bare save for the delicate slip of his discarded shirt falling off one shoulder. His eyes devoured you—not with the hungry gaze of a man, but the fervent obsession of a creator studying his magnum opus. He stood in front of you, shirtless, hands slick with something that shimmered faintly in the candlelight—red coral paint, soaked with memory, sacred to Lemuria.

"You don’t know what you do to me," he murmured, stepping closer. His voice was velvet, but frayed at the edges, undone. "Every time I look at you… I want to ruin you the way I ruin canvas—over and over until there’s nothing left but color and sensation."

You opened your mouth, but he was already sinking to his knees between your legs, warm fingers ghosting up the curve of your thigh. The paint left faint trails behind, glowing faintly against your skin.

“Stay still,” he whispered, breath fanning against the inside of your knee. “Let me study you. Mark you.”

You shivered as he dragged the pad of his thumb upward, the coral pigment mixing with the heat of your skin. His touch wasn’t gentle—it was reverent, consuming, like he was trying to learn the shape of you with his hands alone.

Then his tongue followed, slow and deliberate, tasting the inside of your thigh as if testing the flavor of the divine.

“Color theory,” he murmured, lips brushing higher. “Your skin goes pink when I breathe here… red when I do this—”

His teeth grazed your inner thigh, and you gasped, fingers clenching the edge of the chaise.

He looked up at you through his lashes, eyes twin galaxies of cerulean and rose. “I want to see how many shades I can bring out of you.”

His mouth was fire and worship and destruction all at once. He parted you with his thumbs, kissed the slick heat of you like it was something sacred, and moaned—deep, guttural, possessive—as if your taste confirmed something he’d long suspected.

“Sweet,” he rasped against you. “Of course you are.”

You arched, a breathless cry escaping as he licked a slow stripe up your center, tongue curling just right—just perfectly—until your vision blurred and your hips bucked helplessly against his mouth.

He didn’t stop. Wouldn’t stop. He pinned you with one arm thrown across your stomach, the other hand gripping your thigh as his tongue worked you over like a man possessed. Each flick, each slow, deliberate circle of pressure, sent sparks through your nerves. When your moans turned ragged and breathless, when your thighs trembled and your fingers tangled in his hair, then—only then—did he pull back.

His lips were wet, flushed, shining.

“You’re already shaking,” he murmured, voice thick. “Haven’t even put my cock in you yet.”

Your name left his mouth like a prayer as he rose, capturing your lips in a kiss that tasted like salt and heat and the ocean’s fury. You tasted yourself on him. You didn’t care. His hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face just so, and he kissed you again—deeper, hungrier.

Then he pulled back, just enough to whisper:

“Get on your hands and knees.”

You obeyed. He stood behind you, palms ghosting over your hips, thumbs pressing bruises into your skin. You heard the sound of his pants hitting the floor, the low groan as he fisted himself behind you, lining up with your soaked entrance.

“Tell me you want this,” he said, voice barely a growl. “Tell me whose you are.”

You looked over your shoulder, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

“Yours,” you whispered. “Only yours.”

That was all it took. He buried himself to the hilt in one smooth, brutal thrust, and the sound that tore from your throat was obscene. The stretch was perfect—too much and not enough all at once. Rafayel grunted, holding himself still inside you, one hand tangled in your hair.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “You feel like you were made for me.”

Then he moved. Each thrust was art—vicious, gorgeous, devastating. He fucked you like a man who didn’t just want you—he needed you, like the sea needed the moon, like pigment needed canvas. The sound of skin slapping echoed through the studio, mixing with your cries and his ragged groans.

"Look at you," he snarled, dragging you back onto him. "Dripping, desperate. You like when I treat you like this? Like something to be framed and ruined?"

You sobbed out something between a yes and a plea.

He reached around, fingers finding your clit with cruel precision, rubbing tight, fast circles. The pleasure hit like a tidal wave—your body spasmed, clenched, came apart all around him.

You screamed his name.

Rafayel followed with a guttural moan, hips jerking as he spilled inside you, hot and endless.

For a moment, all you could hear was the sea and the ragged cadence of your breathing.

Then he collapsed against your back, pressing kisses to your spine, your shoulder, your nape.

“Still not finished,” he whispered, pulling out slow, watching you shudder.

“I haven’t signed my masterpiece yet.”

[monarchberrysblog]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five of your other fave writers. Spread the self-love!

Ahhh Thank you Jelly! There are so many fics I’ve written with so much love that it was hard to just pick five.

Growing Pains

— This has been my favorite fic of all time to be honest. This was something that I wasn’t expecting to blow up but it did! This would be my magnum opus because I had to do research over pregnancy. Other than that, this is my personal fav.

Nothing But Trouble

— This is a hidden treasure as not many know of it but close moots love this fic so much! Just a small drabble of Black Cat! Miguel and Spider Varient! Reader dealing with each other’s goof ball behavior.

Don’t Push It

— My SHAYLA! This was my first fic to blow up into the thousands! This was honestly something made up after seeing fanart of Miguel having different hair styles. This fic is my baby, love her so much.

DBF Miguel Imagine

— A fluff that makes my heart melt as this was something written at three in the morning while I was struggling to sleep. Just taking a nap with dbf miguel, pure fluff and no smut.

Gatita

— This fic was one of my early works that exploded over night into the thousands as well! Don’t Push It was originally going to be my last work from thinking that I had a little to no audience but I was proven wrong with you guys.

Y’all made my last year amazing! If it wasn’t for you guys undying support, I wouldn’t be writing at all. Y’all are too sweet 🩷

[adhdnursegoat]

Hey I’m getting into reading smut for the riddler, do you have any recs? Writers or specific smut fics i don’t mind I’ll take anything. (Btw I love your writing)

OMG HELLO ANON!

Thank you so much! I'm sooo glad you enjoy my work. I appreciate your support and interaction!

I have several I'd love to tag!

First, here's a link to my ao3 bookmark page which is just chock full of riddler smut!

Second, here is my 'Best Of' list! I actually had so much fun making this and maybe other people will like it too!

? @caesariawritesstuff has written many lovely oneshots but her magnum opus is Cat & Mouse. Highly recommend it if you're looking for something current, punchy, intricate, well-written, well-thought-out, and just a straight joy to follow. Here is also a link to a collection of her oneshots: Conundrums, Queries, and Quandarys

? @finniestoncrane is one of the more prolific providers of some of the dirtiest, toe-curling, mouth watering smutty oneshots and drabbles for the riddler. They write for other characters but mostly him! >:D My particularly favorite piece by them is Appointment

? @capr1pengu1n has several pieces that I greatly enjoy! I am quite biased but their piece Corrupting the young with your uncivil tongue is my favorite. It was a request I made of them :3 also Twist the knife, like it's something to do is a gem!

? @decaying-words has a small, but delicious and, actually, sweet collection of works called Love Letters to the Riddler. They have not posted since earlier this year, and I hope to see more from them soon!

? @circledemptiness is finally on tumblr! After a two year hiatus, they have posted some new work with plans to do more! I do particularly enjoy their portfolio of all riddler. Check out Merciful!

This is not a definitive list, but these are the main ones I would start with!

Happy reading, my sweet lil goat~!

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄

summary: /ˈɔːrɪeɪt,ˈɔːrɪət/  “of a golden colour or brilliance”

pairing: xiao x gn! reader

warnings: just fluff in the form of my belated new years drabble

genshin impact masterlist

prosperous year of the dragon!! ♡

The sky over Liyue was clear once again, the last lanterns’ glow already a distant memory as the twinkling of stars filled the remnants of the night once more. On the horizon the first sunlight of the new year coloured the wisps of clouds golden and amber, reminiscent of a shooting star’s tail or elegant dragons winding in the dawn of a new day.

For Xiao, it was the cue he could finally rest after defending the nation and its citizens from those that seek to harm them, clinging to the shadows of the night to crawl into the coming year unnoticed. There were no exceptions to his god-given duty, not even as the festive sounds of the harbour drifted up into the mountains and colourful explosives decorated the night. 

No, it was especially because of this that the ghosts of days past could not be allowed to get ahold of the mortal realm.

Green fog parted along the wooden panels of the room he occupied at Wangshu Inn before the soles of his shoes quietly made contact with the solid ground; first his toes before rolling down to his heel, one foot after the other, with a grace befitting that of a dancer, rather than that of a warrior.

What he did not anticipate as he set down his spear, however, was the soft call of his name before a familiar weight flung itself into his arms. Like a warm breeze, your arms wrapped around his neck in a gentle embrace and when he buried his head in the crook of yours, he deeply inhaled the scent of home.

“Happy New Year, Xiao,” you whispered against his skin, your voice melting the tension of his shoulders as it enveloped him, looping around your connected figures like butterflies circling a flower.

“A prosperous new year to you too,” he replied tentatively. As an adeptus, both the concept of time and the importance of this tradition was different to him and he’d never had much reason to celebrate the passing of time in such short intervals. But since he’d met you, you’d not only intertwined both your hands and fates to show him more of your world, Xiao also learnt to cherish what time he could spend with you, no matter how short it may be.

Pulling back just a little, your hands came to frame his beautiful face with delicate care, as if he was not someone to be feared but someone to be loved. You’d watched all night as lanterns had risen into the sky, carrying the wishes and hopes of the people towards the heavens. Yet none of them compared to the amber glow of Xiao’s eyes as they sparkled at you with such fondness it should weigh you down; instead, you felt like you and your heart were light enough to soar high on golden wings, no fear of falling chaining you down if you were with him.

As the sun continued further on its eternal round, aureate rays framed his head in a radiant halo and you didn’t question for even a second that the man before you could be an angel. Risking the accusation of defiling something sacred, you pressed your lips against his plush ones and tasted a piece of heaven for yourself.

When your eyes fluttered open again, Xiao looked as dazed as you felt, fingers brushing over his lips. Then, equally as reverent, his knuckles grazed your bottom lip and you took ahold of his wrist to keep him steady as you pressed a languid kiss to the back of his hand, dusting his cheeks with a light flush, like a painter perfecting their magnum opus.

“I’ve waited quite a while for my new year’s kiss, you know,” you hummed, so entranced by the adeptus in front of you, it was as if time and space around you stood still enough to count the dust particles in the sunlight. “It was worth it though.”

“I see, you are still set in your ways of dragging me into your mortal traditions,” Xiao scoffed, though there was not a single tint of malice in his voice, only teasing affection. If you couldn’t tell by his amorous cadence alone, his actions spoke even louder of his devotion. “Not that I mind in the slightest.”

With practised precision, his lips found yours again as one hand cradled the side of your face and the other pulled you in closer by the waist, as if there was a way to become physically one the same way your hearts had already done. With your attention bound by the flutter of your own heart, you didn’t notice how dexterous fingers discreetly tied a protective charm to your clothes for you to find at a later point in time. 

“What was that for?” You smiled, the distance between the two of you nearly insignificant yet too far all the same.

“I had to get my own new year’s kiss too, didn’t I?” A hint of a smugness tugged the corner of his lips upwards as the corners of his eyes softened downwards while tracing the movement of his thumb against your cheekbone. “Traditions should be honoured after all.”

Your laughter invoked the iridescence of a pearl to brighten his view as you led him over to the balcony railing so you could welcome the dawning year with all its pink and orange hues, arm in arm as the waking birds filled the morning hours with their chirping.

“Speaking of traditions,” you started, transfixed by the sight of the sun rising over the mountains in a vibrant crimson, “there is the belief that the first song you hear in the new year will predict how yours is going to go.”

“Is that so?” Xiao inquired, watching as a small bird hopped onto the wooden railing, careful but curious as it inched closer to the two of you. “It appears nature blesses us with hope and freedom this year.”

“How beautiful,” you mused, as you leaned further into him. 

Turning his head, Xiao studied the way you shone in the morning light before placing a gentle kiss against your temple, light enough you could believe it was the wing of a crystalfly brushing your skin. “Beautiful, indeed.”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

genshin tag list: @mccnstruck @teyvattales @silentmoths @ainescribe @meimeimeirin @dustofthedailylife @nsojbbkkm @kazuuhhaaaa @inufinuf @ynverse @nico707 @boba-is-a-soup @hellithides @ryuryuryuyurboat

[septic-dr-schneep]

“Ow! Ow, ow, oww—”

“Steady, lad, ye’re squirming like a worm on the hook! Unless ye’re looking to scar your face just as mightily as mine—”

Captain Magnum’s warning fell flat as Eric flinched again, wide, wet eyes running over. The sight was like an anchor hitting the pit of Magnum’s stomach. Gripping the boy’s chin more firmly to steady him, he released the needle and picked up his comfort hankie instead.

“Ye should’ve gone to the healer,” he fretted. How had he let himself be talked into this? “Patching me coats and sails is a far cry from this.”

“I-I know but—he’s got enough to worry about without my d-dumb problems! I didn’t want—I thought—” As Magnum patted with admitted clumsiness at the mess of tears and blood on his pallid face, Eric sobbed and the few stitches secured in his cheek promptly popped.

[oros-ash3s]

─＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⋆Masterpost ⋆˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊ ─

⟢ Metamorphosis

Status || Drafting stage

POV || Third-person limited, multiple POVs, present-tense

Genre || Post-apocalyptic fantasy

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Yara had never believed the old myths that her mother had told her about Noroi. The mysterious demonic creatures that dwelled in the shadows and abandoned areas, wreaking death and decay to every place they touched.

Leeches, she had called them.

Yara had always dismissed the myths as nothing but fairy tales, little ghost stories created to scare her and keep her from running out too far at night. But, on the night of her 12th birthday, when her home is invaded and she finds herself face-to-face with the father of all Noroi, she sees her mother’s stories for what they really were: warnings.

From that night on, her entire reality is shattered. Left with an empty house, her only companion being a raven that can’t seem to leave her alone, Yara is stuck. She can’t make herself leave her childhood house, the only home she only knows. With a magical barrier to protect her from the Noroi always prowling outside her house, she spends her days inside, the only place that is safe now.

But as the years wear on and the barrier slowly grows weaker, Yara knows it’s only a matter of time before they finish her off. Just like they had done to her family. She’s suddenly faced with a choice: Stay and wait for the barrier to fail, or venture out into the unknown, despite the danger.

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Content Warnings || Metamorphosis deals with a lot of dark and mature themes, and things such as death, violence, body horror, mental illness, suicide, gore, domestic abuse, and war are included within that. There will be a lot of discussion when it comes to mental illness, the effects of grief, and depression. Though each chapter that has this content within it will be properly tagged with trigger warnings, if any of this subject matter bothers you, please click away.

Themes || Grief, corruption, war, good vs evil, monstrosity, survival, perseverance, loss of innocence, death

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Taglist || @ohagiwrites @bloodinkandashes @corinneglass @icantthinkofablognameatm @vesanal @inky-anathemata @bioniclechronicles @seastarblue @gr3yhellh0und @aalinaaaaaa @shadow-of-tea-and-tea @robinshandhurts @ieppiq @sugaredparchment @lunaeuphternal @ifmasonbasonwasawriter @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @blackboxwarrior-mkultra @lancedoncrimsonwings @sharkblizzardblogs @cepheusgalaxy @theink-stainedfolk

★ Send an ask or dm to be added or removed from the taglist ★

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Fragilely, gradually and surrounding, the horse lies naked in the shed / Evergreen anodyne decompounding, flies draw sugar from his head

— “ingydar” by Adrianne Lenker

⟢ Characters

The 7th Sector ||

✶ Yara Reyes

✶ Aster Anderle

✶ Ryuji Fukenaga

✶ Kageko Fukenaga

✶ Odesa Alves

✶ Dior Moroz

✶ Anastasia Claire

✶ Ophelia Dyal

✶ Loretta Malekala

The Magnum Octō ||

✶ Zervos

✶ Aytek Rahmani

✶ Ukiuk Silla

✶ Caoimhe Yoon

✶ Alejandro Mamami

✶ Ianthe Duval

✶ Lazarus Lune

✶ Marion Bianchi

✶ Grace

Noroi ||

✶ Apeiron

✶ Nebula

✶ Akane

✶ Solanum

✶ Kintsu

✶ Amaris

✶ Ciro

✶ Dislow

✶ Entith

⟢ Writing

Lore and Worldbuilding ||

Character Introductions ||

Yara Reyes \\ Aster Anderle \\ Ryuji Fukenaga \\ Kageko Fukenaga

Extra Info ||

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Drabbles ||

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

Playlists ||

Metamorphosis \\ Yara \\ Aster \\ Ryuji \\ Kage \\ Odesa \\ Dior \\ Ophelia \\ The Polycule

Moodboards ||

The Seventh Sector \\ The Magnum Octō \\ Noroi

✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩

“Who hasn’t ever wondered: am I a monster or is this what it means to be a person?”

— Clarice Lispector \\ The Hour of the Star

[gluion]

the cartographer's 2024 wrapped — in fics !

first fic of 2024: satin for jacob bae or park sungho — wrote this when i was abroad after a very crazy discussion on shibari and ribbons with people from deoboyznet. absolutely insane

last fic of 2024: almost, but not quite for leehan — this fic was an idea since june or july because i loveee loser!leehan but i couldn't pick it up for the life of me... was very much struggling to write fluff until i found a way that fit me as a writer and my own standards <3 can't believe how loved it is to this day !! thanks for loving her dearly (even with its length)

longest fic of 2024: finger trapped (ripped to its seams) for ji changmin, sung hanbin, or myung jaehyun — with a record of at least 15.6k words... ah the most personal one yet <3 an idea that was sitting with me for the longest time, even during my hiatus, and i knew this would be my magnum opus... because of its length, i don't think most people get to read it but it's definitely my favorite one.

most popular fic of 2024: 02:48 for gunwook — with a record of 699 notes (you lot are crazy)... a birthday drabble written for @shegotthewoobies is the winner. we both talk about how this drabble has gotten so much attention nonstop, i was not expecting it to even reach 600 by the end of 2024 but it did... now entering 700 soon enough

personal pick/s of 2024: safe haven (how much longer do we have?) for jacob bae, kim taerae, or leehan // finger trapped (ripped to its seams) for ji changmin, sung hanbin, or myung jaehyun — these are THE gluion fics imo. the easiest way to get to know what i write and my expertise are through these fics. all the praise i receive from these fics never fail to make me smile because it makes me realize that you enjoyed something i'm proud of :]

other milestones worth mentioning: started @onedoornet — i'm so happy to have started a network for boynextdoor writers :] i'm starting to realize that not only was i able to build an easier space for readers to find boynextdoor works but also form a community between writers. thank you to all the members who joined :]

favorite fic/s of 2024: 8000 layers of inyun by @wavesmp3 // wish you were sober by @blissfullsvn // everything i didn't say by @lionhanie // falling in love at first sight (x3) by @jnnul // alike tides, aligned waves by @loserlvrss — i have shared my flowers to these writers/mutuals already <3 you are all so amazing! thank you for filling my 2024 with wonderful fic :]

found on a sticky note from the cartographer — a little overdue but i was out of the country during this whole thing </3 thanks again to @sungbeam @blue-jisungs @slytherinshua @loserlvrss @serejae

@mosviqu @hollyoongs for tagging me in their 2024 wrapped <3 — thank you again to all my readers for sticking with me throughout this journey :] i know i've gotten a little slower with writing but thank you for always sending your flowers my way! i'm starting to feel the love and appreciation as a writer which really helps <3 always know that your reblogs and feedback do mean something!