#now to start the teeth puzzles lol

[shadyufo]

Finally almost done with these guys! The Black Jackalopes of Inlé!

These resin wall mounts started out as more cool knick-knacks I bought at Tractor Supply back around Christmas with plans to customize. Here’s the ornaments I already did—sasquatch and a chicken. And here’s what the jackalopes looked like before.

I knew I wanted to repaint these to make them more Jackalope of Death-like but as I worked on them I decided they needed a little more than paint to make them stand out—like some bone armor/ornamentation. So I raided all of my stashes of spare bones, picked out all the rabbit bones I could find, and got to it. Painted them, drilled holes and attached wire posts in the skulls and all of the larger bones, and then drilled holes in the jackolopes to attach them for some extra stability along with the adhesive. 

Still need to do some paint touch-ups, gloss the eyes, and seal them then one of these will be up for grabs in my Etsy shop!

...and then I'll start on more dental plaques <3

[moonshynecybin]

@tartquez here with a mermaid Marc au question but only if you want to! ✨

After he does his deal with the devil to turn his tail into legs in exchange for his voice, are there any particular shenanigans you think (mute bambi-legged) Marc would get up to?

scream if we ARE doing the full little mermaid with mute marc, he would SO annoyed that he cant talk everyone around him's damn ear off omg... hm i like him talking/being irritating…. im gonna let him keep his voice. for this the witch fucks up his arm or smth.

so marc gets his legs (wildly traumatic experience), passes the fuck out on a piece of floating decrepit driftwood like that first scene in pirates of the caribbean, and gets rescued by vale's crew (cele sulking moodily in the crows nest like uh GUYS? when he spots marc. who is of course naked and gleaming in the sun like a piece of gold.) and the academy boys pull marc's body limp from the sea, and when marc wakes up it is to the loose shirt and rakishly raised brow of the famous captain valentino rossi... literally like THE guy who he got legs for (in all universes marc starts doing dangerous stuff bc he sees vale doing it when he was younger and falls head over ass in love w him lol)… and he has to think up a cover story QUICK

of course as we know, vale is the most curious man alive. so when this hot (weirdly familiar.....) mystery man is deposited on the deck of his ship two weeks away from any land with no clothes, no nearby ship wreckage to explain his presence, and seemingly no memory whatsoever, hes like okay. you can hang for a bit until i figure you out. at least until we get to land— but you also have to make yourself useful :) (in my head he’s so charming about this offensive even if he’s like. implicitly threatening marc a little lol) and marc gets bored easily so i think he folds himself into the crew p fast after that… there are scenes of immediate flirting (marc comma shameless and BOLD. hasn’t really figured out the clothes thing). there are scenes of marc not knowing how to use a fork because he is used to using his sharp teeth and nails to simply rend sushi to shreds. there are scenes where pecco and luca pull out their fiddle and flute for the crew at the end of a long day of raids and the marc stares at them like hes under a spell because they dont have that kind of music under the sea. there are scenes of marc being deathly afraid of the ocean because he cant swim now (thrown in as a prank and vale rescues him ? perhaps ?). there are scenes of marc being surprisingly, viciously good at sword fighting (makes vale even MORE suspicious... like okay he is definitely not a two bit merchant deckhand lol) and them shirtless and sweaty in the hot sun spending hours trying to get one over on each other. marc staring at fire like hes never seen it before. him and celestino pranking crewmembers. an ache in his chest when he thinks about alex. counting his toes because they’re WEIRD and learning how to PEE and learning how to JACK OFF. and most off all falling harder and faster than he thought possible and vice versa... truly nothing vale likes more than a surprising little puzzle who is obsessed w him, even while theres a voice niggling in the back of his head that the alien way marc cocks his head and stares rings more like a shark than an amnesiac sailor...

UNFORTUNATELYYYYY for vale and marc, part of the reason marc excels at sword fighting is because marc IS the prince of the mermen or whatever the fuck. and his spell has a two week time limit to find true love before his arm (getting weaker every day) is permanently FUCKED (really bad when you live in the ocean or simply lead the kind of life marc marquez does) and he has to slink back home to papa marquez and all the boring, safe trappings of being royalty (PAUSE: santi is sebastian. thank u). so alex shows up trying to bring him back, but marc doesnt want to go (starts 2 become guilty about foisting this on alex) and cant swim like this anyways (scar on his arm getting bigger comma. new legs), and then vale CATCHES THEMMMM talking late at night when everyone else is in bed and he remembers all the stories about sailors being dragged to their deaths (true. lol) and remembers the glittering flicker of marc's tail after he pulled him from the sea twenty years ago and all of his suspicions at marc’s ability at violence. and then its a huge fucking mess.

[txtmetonight]

For Him ✆

call summary ⋆ ★ Chan is quite puzzling. But you're determined to break his walls.

pairing *. * Bang Chan x Fem! Reader

genre⋆ ★ Fluff, Harry Potter AU

warnings *. Crude language (just one word lol)

call duration⋆ ★ 1.4k

a/n*. * I'm back in my hp phases lol and while I'm doing that, I'm pushing my chan wolf agenda yay

You suppose you’ve always known about Chan’s mysterious life. And then again, you suppose you always loved him since you were eleven, just as you placed your eyes on him onto the Hogwarts Express. But he is a tricky person to figure out and someone who doesn’t want to be broken down into pieces and given to another to be investigated upon.

Yet he still lets you do so in the very manner as you sit next to him with a full glory on your lips.

You used to wonder why you were the only one that he would let get close, but now as you stare at him with big eyes that hold much adoration, you’ve come to realize how grateful you are.

Chan is puzzling but god he’s a sweetheart when it comes down to it, always a gentleman and always with gentle love beating in his heart for anyone and everyone. Though he reckons that his organ is a little more honeyed for you though, not that he would ever admit it.

For he lives in the shadows of his past and present, and through a fear that he believes in will conjure into reality. And so, he hides a part of himself from you. You despise it very much from the bottom of your heart. You really do. You want to be his but he’s holding himself back and it leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.

The first time you chipped away a little deeper than he wanted to show, was when you were fed up with the white lies that slipped through his teeth.

When he excused his absences for something so abnormal you thought he was mental almost. Every once a month he left you alone with your thoughts over something so trivial or something extreme–just an explanation that made your head spin. So, you had the bright idea to follow him.

Everyone knows of the curfew set in place every night, yet he seemed to have a justification for doing so…why?

Your footsteps were quiet when against the floor and you held your breath, hiding amongst the dark and following the footsteps in the moonlight that shone brightly. It was a full moon.

You’ve known the castle like it was the back of your hand, 3 years since coming and the footsteps you’ve marked were etched in the back of your mind. And you very quickly realized where Chan was going–to the whomping willow. Your lips shivered to cry out to him, to ask him what he was doing but you clap your hands over your mouth when he starts to violently shake against the wind. He collapses. And the clouds reveal the luminous light in the sky.

Before your eyes, his hair shrinks back into his skull, and his body changes. You both see the same things, yet he feels it with pure disgust and embarrassment when his bones grow and rip underneath his skin.

But your perception is different because when he looks into the reflection of the deepest lake and sees a monster staring back at him, you see Chan. Not just a werewolf, but Chan, your lover. And you know that for sure when your nerves tingle with endearment as you stare at him in awe. He’s quite magnificent, you can note when he turns back to escape into the woods.

The second time you cracked it even more was 2 years later when O.W.L’s took over your brain, alongside Chan. Every single night, since that fateful day, you’ve found yourself stalking over the gardens to watch him on the full moon.

But you don’t dare to tell him that; you want him to feel like he has the right to tell you when he has gotten over his fear. Then so, you’ve trained yourself to go blind-eyed every moment except for that night. You suppose you could be selfish.

Chan is lonely. He carries a deep burden in his heart, and it aches to be released, not on its own but in the hands of another where they can sing a lullaby to soothe the pain. And you knew that it was going to be in front of you, but it left a sense of a hole in your heart when you saw him cry. You still sing to him, though.

“Hey Channie, what’s wrong?” You ask, wiping away the peals that streak down his cheeks. His face is flushed red, and he sniffles miserably. He doesn’t say anything, so you move in a little closer to place your hand over his heart, lips just ghosting over fingers at where it lies.

“I feel like, there’s something wrong with me.”

You look up to look at him, but he’s already staring at you with deep fondness in your eyes, you think that you’re going to tear up too. But you don’t. You question instead. “And why is that pretty boy?”

“Oh, I wish you would stop calling me that” He weakly chuckles. “But…I dunno why. I just–just know that there is something wrong with me. Like definite, for sure. And I hate it. It hurts, I suppose. I think it’s puncturing my brain.”

Chan sobs the last word before you grab his jaw and pull him, so your forehead gently tapped against his. Both pairs of eyes close and you realize how much your love runs deep for him. Again, where he feels nothing is where you’re encased in everything for him. For him.

The 3rd time is now, just after a year. You think. You hope his stone wall will shatter soon to let you in.

When the night is young, and the moon rises, you watch with curious intent as Chan drinks out of a gauntlet and shivers with grimace before the potion's professor with great urgency pushes him towards the hills that envelop around the school.

You follow him and it brings you great Deja vu that wraps around your stomach. Yet this time, rather than just breaking the mere school rules, you’re breaking the law by becoming an unregistered Animagus. Perhaps you’re a dunderhead, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You want to keep him company.

When the willow ceases its chaos, you slip past the hole near the trunk. Howls and whimpers echo but you don’t pay any attention. The shrieking shack is known for its ghostly activities but not for the true trauma that happens within the wooden boards. How Chan is in great pain because he is in love with someone whom he can’t have. Just because of himself and who he truly is; a bloodthirsty creature.

Yet he’s truly Chan when you strut your way into the broken-down living room, It’s truly Chan when he doesn’t attack you, and he growls against the moonlight. And it truly Chan when nudges you with his nose for a sense of doting that he craves.

You give it to him and lie on the floor, where he joins you. Your ear is near his pulse, and you feel it thrum alive against you, beating harder and harder. The thick wall is about to crumble, you reckon.

When it comes time for dawn to rise, Chan is Chan again, so you painfully twist back into who you are. Where the hardwood floor lies, instead is your boy, who scoops you on top of him. His eyes are glistening with tears and his lips quiver. Your fingers begin to tangle themselves into curls, placing a soft kiss on his forehead. Neither of you have tried to get up yet.

“How long have you known?”

“Since 3rd year. You’re very handsome has anyone told you that?”

He turns pink but shakes his head no. You kiss him once more.

“Turning into an animagus…why would you do that for me. Go through all the trouble. You don’t have to.” He speaks. He starts to cry now.

As for his question, you decide that you don’t have anything else to offer but the truth. “I love you, Channie.”

He scoffs, “Am I not a monster? I could tear you…you apart if I got too out of control. I’m sick in the head and outside of it, do you not understand? You deserve better.”

You tug at his hair which results in a wince, but you move up closer to his lips, just where they hover above them. His breathing stills and he thinks that you’re a complete stunner in his eyes. You think the same if not more.

“And who is to say that except for myself. You’re not a monster, you’re just Chan who can’t eat spicy food. And I’m (Y/n) who’s been in love with you since the very fucking beginning.”

And then you kiss him hard, expressing unsaid emotions into that kiss, starting to tear up when he reciprocates, his fingers gripping your waist making you feel dizzy. When you two pull apart, Chan chuckles as he wipes away a stray tear.

“You’re so beautiful it hurts me. I love you too.”

You’ve completely broken in.

[jellyfitzjelly]

May I request a NSFW prompt where non-tiefling female reader (crush) went to check on Zevlor in a rut but didn't know what's wrong. She offered to help from now on & confessed her feelings because she didn't want him to think it's out of pity?

I deviated a bit from the prompt, I hope that's okay! I ended writing about 3.8k of words about Zevlor in rut... I think I might unwell about this lol. Hoping you'll enjoy, anon!

From desire sprang delight | 3.8k words | NSFW | AO3

You feel excited as you make your way to the barracks to see Zevlor. You’ve been in love with him ever since you laid eyes on him at the Grove, though you’ve never admitted your feelings to him. You are too afraid to ruin the friendship you have built with him. You two have kept in touch after defeating the Elder Brain. You helped the old Hellrider settle into a new life in Baldur’s Gate. You know there will never be anything more between you two, but as long as he is happy, you are happy too. You greet him on the training grounds, but you immediately notice something is off. Zevlor looks uncomfortable, jittery and smelling of strong cologne and sweat. You wonder if he is sick, but he assures you he is fine. You start your biweekly sparring session. The old Hellrider is clearly distracted, so much so that for once you manage to get the upper hand for a short time before Zevlor inevitably gains his advantage back. Suddenly, the air thickens and his eyes seem to burn brighter as he pins you to the ground. You are overwhelmed with the scent of his sweat, but it surprisingly isn’t unpleasant. On the contrary, it seems to make heat pool in your belly. Your heart starts to pound as you gaze at the ex-Commander baring his teeth. He looks so…feral like this. Zevlor seems to snap out of his trance-like state and sharply pushes himself away from you like he’s been burned. You blink as you watch him get up, panting.

“Are you alright?” you ask with concern.

“Yes, yes,” he answers huskily. “I’m just more tired than I expected. I think we should stop there.”

You nod, a bit perplexed by what happened. You got into the changing rooms with him.

“You can go first, take your time,” the tiefling tells you. “I have some things to sort out before I can wash.”

He leaves you to strip. You undress and go inside the water room to quickly wash so you can help him with whatever chore he has. You come out and dress into the spare clothes you have brought, but you realize your dirty shirt is nowhere to be found. You look everywhere, puzzled, but you still can’t find it. You wonder if a servant took it for whatever reason. You decide to ask one of them in the nearby kitchen. On your way you pass by the storage room. You are stopped dead in your tracks by a noise coming from the room. You try to listen, and you hear something that sounds like a groan. You press your ear against the door and hear another groan. You wonder what’s happening. You quietly open the door a bit to take a peek and you are greeted by a shocking scene: Zevlor has his nose buried in the underarm of your dirty shirt, his pants down mid-thighs, as he fucks his fist. You stare, transfixed, at Zevlor’s cock. It’s large and ridged, the head wet with precum. The Hellrider moans, eyes closed, as he fucks his hand with desperation. You notice an odd swelling at the base of his sex, one that looks sensitive: when the tiefling squeezes it he lets out a loud moan he tries to swallow back. You look on as heat pools into your belly until it becomes unbearable. You slip a hand in your pants, finding your engorged clit. You gently give it circling strokes as you watch Zevlor snaps his hips into his fist.

“T–Tav!” he growls, his pace growing even more urgent.

It lights a fire inside you. You match the tiefling’s pace as you rub yourself, bucking your hips and wishing so badly it was your cunt Zevlor was fucking. You bite your lips as come silently, your clit pulsing under your touch as you watch Zevlor spills a seemingly endless stream of semen. His thighs are shaking with the strength of his orgasm. When hellfire eyes turn to look at you, you panic. You turn around and run back to the changing rooms with your heart thundering. Not long after, Zevlor arrives. His eyes widen when he sees you, and he gives a guilty look to your shirt which he’s been holding.

“Ah, you’re already out,” he says awkwardly.

He smells strongly of sweat, but somehow that just stirs your arousal again. Zevlor shifts on his feet, looking uncomfortable.

“I wanted to have your shirt washed, but I thought better of it,” he explains.

“Oh, I see,” you say.

A heavy silence settles between you.

“I should go home, I do not feel well,” Zevlor eventually says. “I’m afraid we’ll have to cancel our usual drinks and dinner.”

“Of course,” you answer. “You shouldn’t work if you are ill-taken. I’ll walk you back to–”

“No need!” he hurriedly interrupts you.

You blink, a bit hurt but also puzzled.

“I am sure you have plenty of things to do. Don’t worry about me,” the Hellrider assures you.

You smile and nod. You leave him, feeling conflicted. He has lit a fire of lust inside you, but you are also deeply concerned. Has he seen you? Have you destroyed your friendship? The prospect is terrifying to you. Yet you now know he desires you. What should you do? And what on earth is going on with Zevlor? Was he sick? Or just pent-up? It’s so unlike him to give in to his needs like this in the middle of the day… No, something’s wrong with him. He needs your help. You know how reluctant he is about asking for help. You need to find out what’s going on.

You realize you virtually know nothing about tiefling anatomy. You need to read up on it and you know exactly who to turn to: Rolan. If you are completely honest with yourself, you are also curious. You keep thinking about that odd swelling on Zevlor’s sex and you can’t help but wonder if this is normal for tieflings. You go to Ramazith’s Tower and ask Rolan for anatomy books on tieflings. He gives you the books you request with a look that makes you blush.

“May I ask why you are suddenly so interested in my kind’s bodies?”

“Oh, just…curiosity,” you half-lie, your cheeks burning.

“Nothing to do with Zevlor, I suppose?” Rolan smirks with a knowing smile.

You splutter, deeply embarrassed but also feeling like the young man knows something you don’t.

“He– He looks sick, I want to help him,” you finally manage to get out.

“Sure,” he snorts and leaves you to your reading.

You are deeply confused. You can hear Cal and Lia giggling somewhere in the tower, having probably heard your conversation. You decide to study the books rather than dwell on why you feel like the butt of the joke. Fortunately, you soon find out why you feel like it.

Zevlor is in rut.

Tiefling reproduction is different from humans’. At least once a year  they go through a period of intense fertility coupled with a strong sex drive. Males develop a ‘knot’ that ensure semen is not spilled out. If they are not mated, or do not act on their needs, they can become physically ill. Their sweat smells stronger during this period to signal their fertility to other tieflings. You suddenly understands why Zevlor smelled so strongly earlier. Your mind wanders then to him with his nose buried in the damp underarm of your dirty shirt as he jacked off. Does your sweat arouse him? It makes you shiver with arousal to think about it. Your heart also breaks: Zevlor is going through this plight all alone! You need to help him. You need to show him how bad you want his knot inside you. You want the Hellrider to claim you, to fill you. But…would he accept? Just because he wants your body doesn’t mean he wants you. Maybe…Maybe it’s just the rut talking. You shake your head. You mustn’t reason like this, you’ll only intimidate yourself out of seeing Zevlor. You need to go now and tell him your feelings. He needs help, whether he likes it or not! But first, you should prepare…

*

For probably the hundredth time today, Zevlor swears in Infernal as he spills once again into the waiting basin. He sags in the armchair he is sitting in, panting and cursing himself for his foolishness. He hasn’t had a rut in a few years with the amount of stress he had been under: the Descent, the travel to Baldur’s Gate, the Absolute, trying to settle in… He’s thankful Tav still wanted to talk to him after his terrible moment of weakness. She helped him find peace and build a new life.

Zevlor has been in love with her ever since their meeting at the Grove. A simple look from those enchanting eyes and he was smitten. He knows it would never be. Such an incredible young woman like her wouldn’t spare a second glance to an old man like him. Zevlor settled on having her friendship and he was happy with that. The Hellrider was content with what he had….until his rut came. After such a long time without it, his rut has come back with a vengeance. He hasn’t had such a strong rut since his youth. Work has been a torture this past week. Zevlor was a fool to think he could control himself in presence of Tav, he should have cancelled altogether their sparring session.  The aggression only heightened his arousal, and to have her under him, at his mercy… Watching gods, he almost lost control and kissed her at that point. Her intoxicating smell  was driving him up the wall. He ended up stealing her shirt when she went to bath to release some tension. He imagined fucking her, pushing his knot into her tight sex and filling her up. He felt deeply ashamed and embarrassed to do this at work, with Tav’s sweat-drenched shirt no less, but he couldn’t help himself. The worst in all this is that it backfired on him. Zevlor hopes the young woman will never know what he was doing with her shirt. Now he is home with only his hand to satisfy himself. It feels like some kind of twisted torture. No amount of release is enough to sate him. Zevlor knows having a partner would make things so much easier, but even the idea of going to the brothel displeases him. He cannot find it in himself to fuck someone while thinking of Tav.

A knock on the door echoes. The Hellrider groans, willing whoever this is to go away. There is another, more insistent knock on the door. Zevlor curses in Infernal under his breath, wondering who has decided to show up when he is so wrecked.

“Zevlor, can you hear me? Are you ok?” he hears Tav’s voice behind the door.

The Hellrider curses again. What is she doing here?! The gods are truly out to get him, it seems. There is a more urgent knock on the door and Zevlor finally gets up. He’s thankful he has gone soft again. He hurriedly throws on a shirt and some pants before striding to the door. He winces as he gets a whiff of his own sweat. He reeks. He opens the door and is greeted by the enchanting view of Tav in a summer dress. She looks beautiful like this with her hair up. He wants nothing more than to have her.

“Are you alright?” she asks with concern.

“Yes, yes, don’t worry,” he lies. “It is simply a minor cold. I’ll be back on my feet in a few days. You shouldn’t have come, I don’t want you to catch what I have.”

He prays to the gods she cannot smell the heavy scent of sex stuffing his place right now.

“But I can’t catch what you have,” she tells him like it’s obviousness itself.

Zevlor pales.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re in rut, Zevlor. You’re in pain and you need a mate.”

By the gods, no. It cannot be.

“You know?” he squeaks, panic overwhelming him.

“I saw you earlier. With my shirt,” she says, blushing bright red.

Zevlor is torn between kissing her and throwing himself down the stairs.

“I want to help you, Zevlor,” she continues.

“Out of the question,” he snaps.

He won’t have her pity. He can withstand anger or disgust, but not pity.

“You’re suffering! Let me help you! I can take it!”

“I said no!”

He tries to close the door, but she jams her foot against it. Damn woman. She never knows when to back down!

“Zevlor, I am not leaving,” she tells him sternly.

“I don’t want you,” the Hellrider lies.

“Oh yes, you do! And…And I want you too.”

Zevlor’s eyes widen at that.

“Look, I– I get it. You’re just attracted to me. I am fine with that. It’s alright if you don’t return my feelings, but I won’t let you say I am doing this out of pity!”

“Your feelings?” he blinks.

He gets a whiff of her perfume and he starts hardening immediately. Fortunately the young woman keeps her eyes on his face.

“I– I love you, Zevlor,” she stammers, getting beet red.

The old Hellrider finds her adorable like this. His desire surges forward like a tidal wave and he finds himself gripping her by the shoulders  claws digging into flesh. She looks at him with her wide doe eyes, and the tiefling has to fight to keep himself from kissing her.

“I need you, Zevlor,” she pleads, and Zevlor breaks.

He crushes her against him as he brings her into a searing kiss, letting her feel his hardness. She gasps into the kiss, grinding back against him. The ex-Commander drags her inside and closes the door. She’s back at his mouth immediately, hungry. He wraps his tail possessively around her thigh, brushing the tip against her crotch and making a sound in his throat when he discovers she doesn’t wear anything under her dress.

“You little tart,” Zevlor growls against her lips and immediately regrets it.

How can he disrespect her like this? His rut has made him lose his mind! Yet the young woman moans, rubbing herself on his tail. He can feel just how wet she is for him, and he loses all reason after this. All he is preoccupied about now is stretching that tight little cunt with his knot. He hoists her up and sits her on the armchair. He nips at her throat, mouths a clothed nipple and dives under her dress. He noses at her bush, breathing in deep her intoxicating scent. His knot pulses at the smell.

Later, he tells himself.

He spreads her folds, salivating at the enticing view in front of him. He all but gobbles up her clit and sucks on it. Tav squeals above him, arching up as her legs wrap around his head. His cock aches as he eats her out. He swipes his tongue lower for a taste. He recognizes the taste of lubricant right away. Arousal overwhelms him so much at the realization Tav took the time to get her hole soft and pliant for him that it has him almost orgasming on the spot. He slips a careful finger inside and finds her relaxed and slippery. He goes back to teasing her clit with his mouth. Tav bucks into him, making all sorts of sweet sounds that spread Zevlor’s control thin. He digs his claws into the supple flesh of her thighs as he comes up for air, unable to resist his instincts any longer. He crawls back up to kiss her, shoving his pants down and kicking them off before rubbing his cock against her vulva.

“Yes! Yes,” Tav moans, bucking against him.

Zevlor loses all control on himself when he hears her. He pushes her legs on the armrests and he breaches her with easiness. She keens all the same. The old Hellrider grabs her hips and pushes forward, enveloped by her heavenly heat. He has to stop for a bit, breathing through his nose to keep himself from spilling right now. Tav grabs him by the neck to bend him down so she can kiss him, nudging him with her hips. He resumes, his pace erratic and urgent. The young woman doesn’t seem to mind, far from it: she tightens around him every time his ridges rub her sweet spot. He thumbs her clit, spreading her wetness as he fucks her hard. She writhes and arches, her face a mask of ecstasy. He has to have her. He must have her. Gods, he cannot let her belong to another man. He tries to tell himself it’s just the rut talking, but he knows deep down that after this he won’t be able to deny himself. She’s his. Just like he is hers.

He feels his knot swelling, his need calling for him to claim her. He looks down, greeted by a view he will never forget: Tav, in the throes of pleasure, a strap down revealing her breast, her dress hiked up, her lovely neck flushed. He wants nothing more than to keep her like this for the rest of his days, drunk on the pleasure his cock gives her. He pushes forward, his knot catching on her entrance. Tav moans brokenly, shoving herself down on it. Zevlor pushes and pushes and pushes, breathless with need.

He chokes when his knot slips inside. The young woman constricts around him, and that is the end for him. His release crashes over him like a storm. He moans high and loud as he fills her up. Beneath him, Tav cries out as she shakes with her orgasm, clawing at him. They stay like this for he knows not how long, mind blank as the pleasure tears him apart and stitches him back together. He slumps forward, resting his forehead against the armchair just above Tav’s head.

“We need to do it again,” she wheezes, panting.

“My next rut is in a year,” he chuckles with disbelief.

“I meant I want to do it again today.”

Zevlor’s eyes widen, shocked. Tav smiles widely at him, blushing. Gods, she’s beautiful. His back starts to pain him though, so he hoists her up again. She whimpers, tightening around his knot and Zevlor sees stars for a few seconds. He walks to the bed and lies down on it so Tav can rest on his chest.

“The advantage when you are old and decrepit like me is that your knot goes down much faster than if you’re young,” he tells her with a smile.

She looks at him, stern. It makes his cock twitch.

“Zevlor, you are not old or decrepit.”

She tries to shift, likely to sit up but she finds the knot still stuck inside her. She settles on glaring at him. The old Hellrider finds himself struck with fondness. He reaches out and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as he smiles tenderly.

“I didn’t even tell you if I return your feelings or not,” he tells her gently.

She scoffs.

“I know you love me too. I actually can’t believe it took me this long to realize you liked me. You look at me like I’m Sharess herself.”

Zevlor splutters, reddening. He truly did not expect her to be this cheeky…or to have guessed correctly.

“I could say the same of you,” he shoots back. “Why in the nine Hells do you not fancy a young man your age?”

“Why would I when you’re right here?” she chuckles and gods, all he wants is to kiss her.

She shifts and his cock slips out of her, his knot having deflated enough. Zevlor grunts. Tav looks with wonder at his sex.

“Don’t worry, being hard for this long is normal with tiefling,” he tells her.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know either way,” she shrugs as she sits up and take off her dress. “It’s my first time.”

“What?!” Zevlor shouts, sitting up with alarm.

“Relax!” she laughs as if it’s a light matter. “I meant I never had sex. I got plenty of experience with myself…if you see what I mean. I am no blushing maiden.”

She eyes his cock with something akin to hunger. She idly wraps her fingers around the tip still wet from the lubricant and her fluids. Zevlor whimpers from the contact.

“I want to taste you,” she suddenly says.

Before the ex-Commander can answer, Tav grabs his knot and bows down to swallow him down. He’s left scrambling for purchase as she wraps her tongue around his ridges and squeezes his knot  She’s clearly not inexperienced.

“I– I thought you were a virgin,” he moans as he tangles a hand in her hair.

Gods, it felt so good.

“Blowjobs don’t count as sex,” she smirks before swallowing him down from tip to knot.

Zevlor shouts, tensing up as he watches his lover deep throating him. He swears in Infernal as he throws his head back. His thighs are starting to quiver with his impending release when Tav lets him go. She straddles him and rubs her vulva against his sex.

“Wait–” he pants, but she plants her gaze into his and lowers herself onto his cock.

Zevlor watches her cunt swallows him, his semen and her fluids making obscene squelching noises. He bites his lips as he digs his claws into her hips, trying hard to stay still while she slowly impales herself on his cock. She fucks herself slow and careful, hands above her head holding her hair as she scrunches up her nose in concentration. The old Hellrider devours her with his eyes, taking in her beautiful naked body. As she picks up her pace she lowers herself on him. He runs a hand down her back as she works herself on his cock. Suddenly Tav grabs him by the horns as she bears down on him. Zevlor keens. The young woman is above him arms stretched, holding onto his horns as she fucks herself on his cock. Her breasts swings with her thrusts and the tiefling watches, mesmerized, before capturing one in his mouth. He sucks hard, making his lover keen as her entrance catches on his knot.

“Fuck– You’re so big,” she whimpers as she’s taking him in.

They both shout when Zevlor’s knot locks into place inside Tav, both coming at the same time. When she slumps onto his chest, he wraps his arms around her.

“Are you alright?” he croaks, trying to catch his breath.

His lover hums dazedly, clearly on her way to sleep. He pets her hair with fondness. She deserved some rest after making him the happiest man in the world. This is going the best rut he’s had in decades, he smiles to himself.

[qin-qin16]

If it's ok can I request a Reaper sans x reader x geno sans oneshot with fluff and suggestive themes (since reaper can act spicy lol) where it is a polly relationship with the three of them dating each other. The reader is kind, chill, Tomboyish and plays guitar and sings. Reaper acts like his usual flirty but caring and coffee loving self and geno acts like his shy, smart, kind and tsundere self and reader does tolerate reapers clingyness and flirts more than geno lol and reader would show the Bois an equal amount of affection. I hope this is ok with you :)

cw: Reaper x Reader x Geno, fluff, reaper can touch reader, maybe ooc?, suggestive talk in the end, bird courting, gn!reader…  

note: This was a big challenge since I never write anything about Reaper or Geno, but I tried my best! I didn't put the guitar part because I couldn't find where to put it.

You examine the small stone between your fingers; it not only fits comfortably in the palm of your hand, but it is also meticulously oval-shaped without any sharp or deep edges. However, what made your eyes light up about the stone was its color: a lovely, transparent rose hue that stood out vibrantly against the surrounding light.

Without realizing it, your lips curled into a small smile, subconsciously mirroring Reaper’s grin, who had, in fact, been the one to give you the small stone.

“What is this?” Your eyes finally lift, shifting your gaze to the empty sockets of the skeleton.

Reaper merely tilts his head to the side, as if observing something about you — perhaps your curious expression or the glimmer in your eyes. To you, he seemed just pleased with your reaction to the stone, but there was something more in his familiar and relaxed posture.

“It’s a gift, a mate gift.” He confesses in a tone so unlike his usual one; his voice is soft, almost a hesitant whisper.

You bow your head for a moment, your teeth fully exposed in the broad smile that spreads across your face — your eyes once again focused on the stone, which now rests in the palm of your hand. Even though you don’t fully grasp Reaper’s words, your appreciation for the gift hasn’t lessened at all; in fact, it seems to deepen, resonating with your soul.

“It’s a beautiful gift, I really like it…” Your voice is as soft as his; not shy, but warm and appreciative of the small, yet deeply meaningful gift.

In response to your words, Reaper brushes his face against yours, letting out a deep purr between his teeth. Laughing at the gesture, you don’t even realize you’re reciprocating the affection, gently rubbing against him, your foreheads touching in a tender display of affection. Wanting to amuse him a bit, you whistle melodically at him, a sound reminiscent of a bird calling to its mate.

“Did you know that penguins give stones to their partners as a symbol of marriage?” You only realize you had your eyes closed when you open them and see Geno standing not too far away, a smug grin on his face, “It’s like an engagement ring in their language,” he adds, approaching with slow steps.

Pulling your faces apart slightly, you glance sideways at Reaper, beginning to piece together the puzzle in your mind.

“Why am I not so surprised?” It was a rhetorical question, as with Geno’s words, you were starting to make sense of some of Reaper’s peculiar habits, like the one from earlier (or when he gathered a bunch of blankets and sheets and had both you and Geno sleep in that pile of fabric with him for days).

Finally at your side, Geno also pressed his face against yours, though more as a gentle touch than a warm embrace. He then extended one of his hands close to your face, revealing that, in the middle of his palm, was a small stone slightly different from yours — it was rounder and more opaque, resembling a pearl except for its size and its pinkish hue.

“I couldn’t pass up the chance to court you two before moving on to the mating part—” And before Reaper could finish his sentence, Geno pushed his face away from yours.

This prompts a genuine laugh from you. While such moments like these weren’t unusual, it’s still amusing to see Geno blushing at Reaper’s intimate suggestion.

If these small stones really mean what you’re starting to understand from Geno’s explanation, then you wouldn’t mind spending the rest of your life with these two skeletons so cherished by your heart.

[heartshapedbubble]

Ooo could you write luchino and wu chang walking in on their s/o getting punched in the mouth. The context that they missed is that s/o tried to stop a fight but ended up getting their ass handed to em, it did work tho! Fight did stop, mission failed successfully lol

Oh hey look a scorpion 🦂

i love asks like these they make me smile so hard when i get them (these r a bit short tho sorry :c)

scorpion i hope you're still with us now in the moment of posting🙏🙏 you're a real warrior

luchino diruse and wu chang walking in on their s/o getting punched in the mouth hcs🦎☂️

luchino diruse🦎

"Amore mio, where are y- What just happened? What have you done to them!?"

jumps the second he sees the scene in front of him, going straight for the other person's head

you'll have to restrain (warning: very hard considering he weighs the same as an adult grizzly bear and your hands will hurt due to his scales) and keep convincing him for a good 5 minutes that it's your fault, not theirs

good luck with having the patience to get that through tho since he's going to be spewing insults in italian at them and hissing, seeing only red

once it finally gets to him he's... confused? but at the same time he feels incredibly ashamed and will apologize profusely to the other person

as you two get going he's going to groan about how careless you can be and how sometimes you should rethink things before acting

all that complaining while he simultaneously plants you on his shoulder and wipes the blood from your face :')

"Tsk, splendore, you should really think things through first with that head of yours... promise me that you'll be more careful next time, piantagrane, will you? "

wu chang☂️

"___, dearest? Where are you- Oh my!"

xie tries to avoid conflict at all costs so he's quite stumped at first

the first thing he goes for is you, kneeling down and grabbing you the second before you lose your balance and hit the floor

not releasing you from his grip (in fact, he pulls you even closer to him), he starts questioning the other person, his tone hostile and less composed than usual

he's not that much of a hothead so telling him the truth won't take long, and he'll formally apologize to the other person for accusing them, although puzzled on why you're being so defensive of them - you were the one who got hit, after all...

the second you two get a bit further away he starts tending to your injury, not wasting any time, wiping blood off of your lips and nose with his sleeve and checking your jaw in case of broken teeth

"I'm so relieved it wasn't anything worse than this... but please, sweetie, will you be more careful next time? You almost gave me a heart attack... I know you had good intentions, but sometimes you really have to know how to control yourself."

~

"___? Come here, where did you g- Ah, god."

fan would barely supress his laughter tbh

goes up to you, picks up the entirety of your body weight with one hand and puts you back on your feet

starts nagging the other person for details, not even being mad, until you tell him what actually happened and he just loses it and starts laughing uncontrollably

takes you by your hand and yanks you away with him, still laughing as he says his goodbyes

wujiu can be evil yes (especially in this scenario) but he's not a complete asshole 😞 although he'll annoy you to no end about your failed little heroic attempt to stop a fight he'll be doing it so you're going to be less focused on him brushing the blood off your chin with his thumb (GOD FORBID wujiu shows affection without sneaking in something mean)

"Jeez, ___, you should have seen your face when you got hit! You should have known what was coming the second you tried to intervene... H-hey now, would you stop wriggling?! There's more blood under your nose..."

[nightfall093]

@dynamite124 Here’s that writing prompt you wanted lol

———

It was time.

Odahviing perched his immense form upon the walls of Dragonsreach, awaiting his command. The Whiterun guards cautiously shuffled back into their positions, their eyes never quite leaving the great dragon.

Iorek’s friends slowly turned to face him, realisation dawning on their faces. This was it.

It was time for the final battle against Alduin.

He met their eyes one by one, reading their minds with the solemnity of their gazes alone. This could be the final time they ever saw one another.

He shared words with them all, rounding off his sentiments with a hearty hug. Holding back his tears was a difficult task.

But when he turned his gaze to his final companion, he stopped, his breath catching in his throat. He could feel everything he’d felt these last few months bubbling up to the surface. It could literally be now or never.

“Taliesin,” he said quietly, glancing over his shoulder at the others, who had politely turned away and started talking amongst themselves. Iorek had a feeling they knew what this was about.

“I need to speak to you”, he said, gesturing over towards the wall near the great chains. “Over here.”

“Ominous,” the Altmer said wryly as Iorek gently steered him by the arm. “Don’t I get a manly slap on the back as well?”

Iorek gritted his teeth, taking a slow, steady breath. His heart had never pounded harder. Taliesin seemed to notice his expression of barely concealed terror, and tilted his head curiously as they reached the wall.

“What’s wrong?” he asked with apparent concern.

“OK, so…” Iorek started to pace, wringing his fingers. Every time he tried to speak his words slammed to a halt in his throat. He took another breath, and rambled, “Look, I need to say this now in case this is the last time I ever see you, and I’ll regret it forever if I don’t… or at least, until Alduin eats my soul.”

Another breath, his heart trying awfully hard to break out of his ribcage. He could do this. “I like you,” he blurted.

Taliesin said nothing, his puzzled expression unchanging, but Iorek could swear he saw something glimmer in his eyes, just for a moment. Or had he imagined it?

“I mean, LIKE like you,” Iorek continued before the Mer could generate a sarcastic reply. “As in… I wake up and you’re the first thing I think of. You’re on my mind every minute until I get to see you and when I do… nothing else matters. I was talking to Remi the other day and barely heard a word she said because all I could look at was you, sitting behind her shoulder. Whenever I leave for a few days with some of the others and leave you at home, I can’t wait to get back so I can see you again. I want to be next to you every minute, and it hurts when I’m not.”

He stopped, determined not to meet Taliesin’s gaze, at least until he was finished; if he looked up and saw disappointment, or anger, or anything remotely negative in his face, he’d never be able to finish. He’d never get over that.

“I’ve… never felt this way about anyone, not even with Sabine back in Cyrodiil. I love you all, of course, as a family. I couldn’t do any of this without you all. But with you… it…” He swallowed the lump in his throat, still staring fixedly at the floor. “It’s… more. It’s definitely more.”

He wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. He still couldn’t look at Taliesin’s face, despite how much he wanted to. He sighed deeply through his nose and braced himself.

“There,” he muttered. “Now you know.”

[im-yn-suckers]

midnight rain

ok, ok i had no idea Taylor Swift had a song named 'Midnight Rain' so do not come at me lol

pairing-bf niki x fem reader(jays younger sister)

warnings-kissing, dancing in the rain, emotional jay, kinda long ngl hehe, theres a shower at the end so thats up to you to decide if theyre separate or not:) not proofread

song- A Thousand Years by Christina Perri

11:59 pm. it was pouring outside and you two were watching it. you watched the way it hit the ground. he watched the way you adored the rain. he knew you wanted to go play in it because you kept looking at him every now and then.

-"let me guess, you want to go play in it?"- he asked already knowing your answer. you nodded excitedly in response.

-"lets go then"- he said putting on his hoodie and tossing you his extra that was lying on the windowsill. you two left towels for when you returned

once you got outside, he was a little hesitant but you reassured him nothing bad was going to happen

-"what if the guys find out?"- he asked because jay was always worried that youd get sick. he wasn't too much of a protective brother. he knew you like niki and that niki liked you. he saw how happy you two were together so he decided he was the perfect one for you and you were the perfect one for him.

-"well then. come what may. hurry it might stop soon"- you grabbed his wrist and he followed you into the rain.

after a few minutes, you were being spun around. entering the soft embrace of niki, then leaving. niki looked ethereal with his hair dripping. the way his hair dipped into his eyes gave you butterflies. his face was beautifully lit up by the moon. his boxy smile and the way he looked at you was enough to know you love him and he love you.

the moon highlighted his straight white teeth. the crease around his mouth when he smiled. his sharp cat like eyes. his plump lips. his sharp jawline. the wrinkles around his eyes.

he pulled you into his embrace. he held you by your waist. you put your arms around his neck, playing with his hair. he pressed his forehead against yours, smiling, looking into your beautiful eyes.

he loved the way his hands fit on your waist perfectly. the way your eyes sparkled in the moonlight. the way you looked with raindrops in you hair and on your eyelashes. how celestial you looked. not just celestial, more like ethereal, exquisite, airy, divine.

he loved the way your bodes fit together like pieces of a puzzle. the way you two could stay like this forever, with your foreheads pressed together, noses touching, eyes shut, swaying from side to side, you in his embrace, him holding you close to him.

he pressed his plump, pink lips against yours. he kept them there for a little while. you pressed your against his. you kissed him back and didn't want to stop. he pulled away and smiled at you. you smiled at him. and before you knew it his beautiful lips were on yours again.

that was until jay opened the door and saw you two kissing, soaking wet, in the rain, under the beautiful moon. he was going to say something but you two started to dance again. looking at you two waltzing in the rain made his heart melt.

he felt a tear slip down his cheek. he wiped it, decided to go inside and just watch through the window. the way he looked at you showed he was proud of both of you. his little sister, all grown up, waltzing with his younger best friend. his not so little sister, words couldn't express how he felt right now.

his not so little sister, finally found someone who loves her more than anything. his not so little sister, who loves someone more than anything. why did you two have to be so cute together? hi face was wet from watching you two dance the night away

-"i love you more than anything, y/n"- he said pulling you into a hug

-"i love you too, niki"- you said burying your head into his chest.

-"now, may i have this last dance, princess?"- he asked, bowing like and elegant prince as he held out his hand.

-"why of course you may, prince."- you answered taking his hand

you waltzed for another 10 minutes, all while jay and the rest of enhypen watched you two be a fluff, cliché couple. jay, wiping his face and washing it in order to hide the fact that he was crying. he pulled you into his embrace one last time.

all the enhypen members watched as niki kissed his favorite person in the world. the kiss was filled with all sorts of emotions but mostly, love, happiness, joy, excitement, innocence and passion. you kissed him back, arms around his neck. one of his hands on your waist, the other holding the back of your head. he pulled away and left one last soft peck on your lips.

1:19 am, jay had been watching for half an hour, enhypen had only been watching for ten minutes. you two made your way back inside, hand in hand. only to find enhypen sitting on the couch with crossed arms.

-"ok we weren't out there for long"- niki said in attempt to save you two.

-"i was watching for half an hour"- jay said

-"we're really sorry"-you apologized

-"we're not mad, we're proud"- jay said and all the members agreed

-"proud of what?"- you asked

-''you two. for finding the ones you truly love. just please don't do this again. or at least let us know''- jay said

-''ok''- you two murmured in agreement.

long story short, these were the moments that would last a lifetime. they were the moments that proved you would be together forever. the night ended with a warm shower and cuddles.

-''i love you, so, so much''- niki reminded you

-''i love you too my love''- you answered

an: i dont know anything abt dancing soooo. did yall see his weverse update????????? im not ok. i might write a fic abt paragraphs 8-11. should i??? js explaining everything he loves and everything you love. i got a lil carried away eh heh not me crying while writing this

[liriostigre]

Hiiii ty for such a great uquiz!! Would it be possible to see the description of all the books you could get matched to? I’m curious what the vibes are for the rest!!

hi 🌷 here you go:

White Teeth by Zadie Smith: Excessive, maximalist and very ambitious multigenerational and multicultural epic novel that starts with the unlikely friendship between Archie Jones and Samad Iqbal. It explores themes of race, identity and the intersections of culture, heritage, and modernity. Clever and hilarious dialogue, very creative when it comes to language and style, unique and bold when it comes to narrative. Perhaps a flawed novel due to its ambition, but excellent nonetheless.

Despair by Vladimir Nabokov: Excellent writing; very ambitious and stylish. It is somewhat a twisted novel but you will find a lot of humor despite. The narrator speaks directly to the reader as he writes what he regards as his perfect crime. This novel is one of Nabokov's earliest works in which one can easily identify themes and literary devices that the author explored later in his most known works.

The Savage Detectives by Roberto Bolaño: Brilliant and stunning novel about poets and poetry! Very dense and challenging; it requires patience from the reader. This novel is so infinitely dear to me that i can't even explain its brilliance, but i have to give you at least an idea of the plot so: The story is arranged in three parts and told from multiple points of view. It starts in Mexico City, in the 70s, and continues across decades and continents. It follows the adventures and misadventures of Arturo Belano and Ulises Lima—poets, drug dealers, wanderes, criminals. Now, about the themes, the writing, the style, the narration? Just absolutely perfect even at its most tedious, difficult and anticlimactic parts.

The Hearing Trumpet by Leonora Carrington: Unconventional, absurd, imaginative and exuberantly surreal apocalyptic fairytale quest. It follows 92 year old Marian who is sent off to a peculiar old-age home. If you aren't familiar with Leanora Carrington's art you should look at some of her paintings because this wonderful novel feels just like her surrealist paintings!

Mrs. Caliban by Rachel Ingalls: This novella tells the story of a love affair between a depressed suburban housewife and an amphibian creature who escaped a scientific research center. It might sound like a quirky fiction story but it actually deals with the most mundane and banal aspects of life and human relationships. Brilliantly written; neat and precise prose, wonderful storytelling. The author knew what she was doing and not a single word she wrote was wasted.

The Borrowers by Mary Norton: Delicately written little adventure about tiny people who live in the secret places of houses. I am enamored (obsessed!!) with miniatures—dollhouses, dioramas, fairies—so imagine how dear this book is to me.

Sharp Objects by Gillian Flynn: The murders of two girls bring reporter Camille Preaker back to her hometown. As she works to uncover the truth about those crimes, Camille finds herself forced to unravel the psychological puzzle of her own past. Very entertaining read. It has best seller written all over it (which might not be the biggest compliment lol but i mean for this genre so it is a compliment).

Rage by Sergio Bizzio: Claustrophobic, anxiety inducing, fast-paced psychological thriller that made me think of Bong Joon-ho's Parasite the whole 4 hours it took me to read it. I read it in it's original language, Spanish, and i particularly loved the dialogue; its idiosyncrasies and authenticity (tqm Argentina!)

High Fidelity by Nick Hornby: Rob, an obsessive music fan, reminisces his top five worst break ups to understand his most recent heartbreak. He is a very arrogant and cynical guy who defines his entire life through records, and because he is constantly interacting with music that almost exclusively deals with love—and a very idealistic version of it—he finds himself unsatisfied with the way his life has turned out.

[michelleleewise]

Hello darling 🥰🥰 Could you possibly do a Loki X Reader where reader is super insecure about her looks (you can DM me if you want more specific things) and he's always reassuring her but the little voice in her brain won't stop and now she feels like a burden for needing his reassurance again and again? Thanks love! ❤️❤️

-💜💎

Hi dear!!!!! I wasn't entirely sure of you wanted fluff, or angst or fluffy angst so I just went with it lol thank you so much for sending this to me!!! I got you!!!! 🥰🥰💚💚

===================================

Let me Adore You

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: angst, insecurities, self deprecating thoughts, anxiety, angst to fluff, loki being a fluff ball

Summary: there were days you felt you off, doubts closing in on you, but Loki will never let you feel that way.....

A/n- graphics by @harlequin-hangout

You stood in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time turning to the side sighing. The leggings you put on made your butt look big, you knew it. "Why doesn't anything fit right." You said to yourself walking back to the closet. You had already gone through everything you owned and nothing looked good. The shirts too tight making your stomach show, or that your breasts werent as perky as they should be...the pants too tight either showcasing your thicker thighs or your backside, and the skirts....you couldn't even think about the skirts. You sighed again throwing on a large pair of sweatpants and a too big t-shirt, nobody needed to see any of that.

You walked into the bathroom brushing your teeth you looked in the mirror as your nose stared back at you. You were told multiple times it fit your face but you couldn't help hate it. It was too long, too wide, just too much. You finished brushing your teeth just staring at yourself. All in all you didn't feel pretty. Your hair was too frizzy, your complexion wasn't great. You never understood what your boyfriend saw in you. Loki could have any woman he looked at, but by some miracle he chose you. He had told you multiple times he adored your curves, loved your unruly hair, that everything about you made his heart flutter, but if you were honest....you didn't see it.

You finished in the bathroom walking into the bedroom seeing Loki begin to stir "Darling, why didn't you wake me?" He asked rubbing his eyes "you looked too peaceful, I couldn't." You said stopping in front of the mirror again. "Is everything alright love?" He asked as you pulled your shirt here and there "yes, I just...." you started when you felt his arms wrap around you "Darling, I have told you you are radiant, beautiful beyond compare." He said kissing your neck "loki, you don't have to lie to me, I know..." you were cut off as he spun you around "love, I am not lying. I find you ethereal in every way, I have told you this yes?" He asked as you looked down at your feet "yes loki." You whispered feeling his fingers on your chin "then trust me when I tell you you are a jewel among rocks, no other compares to you." He said smiling.

You were about to say something when his phone rang on the nightstand, drawing his attention. He walked over grabbing it sighing "I have another mission, apparently I need to infiltrate and aquire some hard drive." He said scrolling through the message. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around him peeking at his phone, a picture of a drop dead gorgeous woman on the screen with the words "TARGET" underneath. You cleared your throat stepping back "h..how long will you be gone?" You asked playing with the hem of your shirt "Stark says two days, hopefully it will not take that long." He said setting his phone down. "When do you have to leave?" You asked looking up at him "twenty minutes, now....where were we?" He asked holding his arms out as you stepped back from his embrace.

"Darling?" He asked looking puzzled "you should...get ready to go" you said crossing your arms over your middle "I have time, what is the matter?" He asked sternly stepping forward "I just...it's only..." you hesitated, feeling your eyes burn as you toed the carpet "please love, tell me what's wrong." He asked again. "Loki why..." you started, clearing your throat "why are you with me?" You asked quietly trying to avoid his gaze. "Y/n, I have told you..." you cut him off "Yes, you've told me loki, and I'm not stupid!" You said feeling a tear slip down your cheek "my hips are too wide...my stomach is flabby....i need a step stool to get a cup from the cabinet...you could have a woman who looks like that!" You yelled pointing at his phone "so why...I don't..." you trailed off taking a deep breath.

"Y/n, please let me..." he tried as you held your hand up "just go...go do your whatever is it with her..." you said taking a shakey breath "love, please listen to me." He tried again as you walked towards the bathroom "i...I'll see you when you you come back, if you decide to." You said walking in shutting the door. Sitting on the side of the tub you tried to wipe your cheeks hearing a knock "love, we need to talk, please." You heard Loki's voice from the other side "please Loki, just go." You said hearing silence, a few minutes later hearing the door of your shared space closing signaling he had left. You got up, slowly opening the door, confirming you were alone you walked to the bed sitting at the end you let the tears fall.

You hadn't meant to yell at him, or start a fight. You knew your insecurities get the better of you at times, and he had told you multiple times how much he loved and adored you, but your mind wouldn't listen...wouldn't believe it. It was relentless in finding faults and imperfections. No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, days like today would make them rear their ugly heads and make you doubt anything and everything, including Loki's love for you. The voice in the back of your mind telling you he's only biding his time...he'll replace you....meet someone better. You wiped your face crawling back under the covers grabbing Loki's pillow hugging it to your chest closing your eyes trying to memorize his scent.

You weren't sure how long you laid there when you heard the door open, peeking one eye open you saw Loki's tall figure in the doorway, watching him slowly close it "w..what are you doing? I thought you left?" You asked lifting your head. He walked over setting a grocery bag on the bed "I told stark i was unable to go, that I was needed here, so he sent James in my stead." He said slipping his jacket off "loki...you didn't..." he cut you off "I wanted to." He said striding to your side of the bed sitting next to you gently nudging you to look at him "love, I know there are times when those dark thoughts invade your mind, making you feel less then." He said grabbing your hand. "I know better then most how hard it is to ignore them, to not see yourself as you believe." He said looking down. "But darling, I don't want you to ever doubt my feelings for you." He said kissing your hand.

You felt your eyes burn again trying to hold yourself together as you sat up "loki, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get upset with you, it's just...I know I'm not what people consider attractive, and i...I'm sorry im such a burden to you Loki." You said looking down. "Darling, you are never a burden." He said squeezing your hand. "Loki, I yelled at you...you canceled your mission...you..." you started when Loki placed a finger on your lips "love, I would never go on another mission again if it made you happy" He said cupping your cheek "I will gladly stay by your side day and night if that is what you wished of me." He said rubbing circles with his thumb on your cheek. "I will banish every dark thought you have of yourself with my lips." He said kissing your hand "with my touch, with my love." He said scooting towards you "that is my vow to you my love, whatever you wish of me I shall do." He smiled.

You felt a tear stream down your cheek as you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck burying your face in his hair feeling his arms loop around your middle squeezing you tight. "Loki...I don't deserve you." You said shakely gripping his shirt "love, you deserve better then me, and I will show you every day how much I love you." He said as you pulled back looking at him, his hands reaching up cupping your cheeks wiping your tears with his thumbs "my sweet y/n, let me adore you the way you deserve." He smiled as a small sob left your lips "only if you let me adore you too." You smiled back at him. "I think I could allow that." He said making you laugh. "Now, I have gone to the store and picked up immense amounts of chocolate, I thought maybe you could pick one of your films and we could stay here and...indulge, just the two of us." He said "I would love that." You smiled wiping your cheeks.

You got settled in bed, putting on a movie as Loki handed you the largest chocolate bar you had ever seen making you laugh "there is much more where that came from." He smiled sifting through the bag. You looked up at him, his green eyes shining brightly, his smile lighting his face...he was beautiful in every way "what have I done in my life to deserve you?" You asked seeing his smile widen "you loved me, you showed me kindness no one else has, you accepted me for who I am when not many have." He said wrapping his arm around you "you are you love. Beautifully, perfectly you." He said kissing the top of your head. You snuggled into his chest inhaling the scent of sandlewood and leather "I love you Loki, more then you know." You said "and I you...min kjærlighet." He said holding you tighter.

@vbecker10 @mochie85 @lokisgoodgirl @springdandelixn @kinky-faerie @xorpsbane @midnights-ramblings @simping-for-marvel @holdmytesseract @kkdvkyya @slpnbty2001 @lokixryss @vane28282 @violethaze @coldnique @aniar4wniak @nate-ate-hate @buttercupcookies-blog @brattymum96 @dukes2581 @your-taste-on-my-lips @mybabyh @blog-the-lilly @irishhappiness @sinsandguilt @filthyhiddles @lovebyloki @kikster606 @javagirl328 @misunderstoodself @highkeysimpingforloki @eleniblue @commanding-officer @athalialaufeyson @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lokiandbuckysdoll @loopsisloops @joyful-enchantress @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @high-functioning-lokipath @kittiowolf210 @slytherclaw1227 @joyfullymassivewhispers @wolfsmom1 @libbybeaz @lokikissesmyforehead @goblingirlsarah @thomase1

[mandowifey]

Exhume

Miguel O'hara x Reader

This is part of a nonlinear story.

Warnings: This has multiple changing POV's (Im trying here), PwP, dark!Miguel, captive reader, stockholm syndrome, NSFW, dead dove, this has officially become 'dub con' territory. Au events, following along the movie SORTA. Reader is referred to as she/her pronouns.

Lil warning: this was hastily written in different points of the past couple months. I wanted to release it as is and not over edit the work I put in. The next chapter(s) will be more refined. Enjoy the slop LOL

° ° °

The space behind Miguel's eyes throbs as Jessica speaks up. Not that he hadn't found kinship with the woman before everything, but lately, he'd been irritable more than usual. While he tried to conceal it and bury himself away in his work, of course, his infuriatingly perceptive companion would notice.

His patience was wearing thin. He didn't mind the company before, but now that he had you, he wanted time to check the cameras. More than once, he'd caught you attempting to break loose or creatively end your life. Keeping you alive meant being attentive, and right now, Jessica was making that difficult.

"Miguel, are you alright?"

What kind of answer could he really give?

'No, I'm exhausted trying to maintain the multiverse while simultaneously covering the fact I have lost my mind and am holding a young woman hostage in my loft.'

Instead, he sighs and drops his shoulders. "Yes, Jess, I'm fine-"

"You aren't, I know you. I know when you're hangry, or moody or brooding, or when you are in need of your 'medicine'. This isn't fine." The woman folds her arms just below her bossom, against the swell of her belly. Miguel had congratulated her somewhat bitterly when she told their group.

Gritting his teeth, he pawed his face before he looked at her. "What do you want me to say?" Miguel snipped, a flash of red glinting in those onyx orbs. Jess seemed unphased and stood her ground with a frown.

"Just tell me what's going on. You know me, anything that's troubling you, I'll help." Her voice changed, adopting something acute to motherly. Jessica was by no means a soft woman before, but pregnancy had upset the balance of her hormones and now, sometimes, her rough exterior broke to show the gentle soul nestled within.

Miguel watches her, catching her gaze before averting his eyes shamefully. "It's nothing you can help with." He turned the broad canvas of his back to her, staring at the array of holoscreens above the control board. His fingers itched to press the code to the loft, wanting to check on you. He typically watched off and on in five minute intervals, but with Jess standing and practically breathing down his neck, he couldn't.

The woman tilts her head at the vague response, her brows raised behind her yellow glasses. Persistence was one of her strong suits.

"Try me."

-

Time ticked down like sand through an hourglass. Dragging, unyielding in its slow descent. You struggled to amuse yourself now. Tv, YouTube, baking, none of it worked anymore. You felt compelled to do something with your time but couldn't determine what. Puzzles became boring now that you'd completed each one three times. Sometimes, you cleaned and took things apart just to put it back together.

All this time, locked in a tower.

You started to feel bad for zoo animals.

As your mind began to drift away, so did your resolve. Instead of dreading his return, you looked forward to it. In the morning following your break, you had almost begged Miguel to stay home with you. Your hands ached to feel the weight of his face between them. Your lungs missed the way he compressed you. Miguel left you yearning for more, especially after the evening you had consented his touch.

Instead of sleeping the day away, you turn music loud on the speakers and close your eyes. It wasn't much, but you imagined yourself on a stage, dancing in an empty amphitheater. Shy ministrations became wild as you lost yourself in the fantasy. You were having fun, feeling almost childish in your amusement. Miguel had never confirmed your suspicions, but you knew he had the place rigged with cameras.

Part of you hoped he enjoyed the show - as silly as it was.

You spun and twirled, throwing yourself over the chair and couch, dramatically flinging yourself off the furniture and laughing as it became less of a dance and more of a mosh pit. A sensation of freedom and peace washed over you, taking you off your feet with each lunge and jump. Arms out, you did circles on the coffee table before falling backward off of it and onto the plush couch. As the song faded, your eyes opened at the ceiling, and your smile began to fade.

Nausea hit you like a truck.

Even with the room spinning, you scrambled and found your way to the kitchen trashcan. Knocking it to the ground along with yourself, you shoved your face into it just in time to vomit. Lunch - a sandwhich and chips - mostly digested and not nearly as enjoyable as it was going down, fell from your mouth in violent, painful heaves. Sweat from your wild dance routine now mingled with the sweat of being sick. Beads traced down your forehead and temple as you puked again, your shoulders bunching.

A fever rocked through you, aching to the bone. Coughing, you gasp for air as your eyes water. Lesson learned: Don't mosh pit in the living room. You wait on the cold tile floor until the nausea passes. Drawing upwards, you fix the trash can and groan as you get woozy. Bracing a hand on the island, you wobble towards the bedroom, having to go slow and lean your weight against the nearest surface.

Once you reach the bathroom, you turn the cold water on and keep the lights out. Undressing was impossible now that your limbs felt like cement blocks. As you climb in, you lay on your side as the shower rains down onto you. With your eyes closed and fever addled brain not working, you don't notice the steam rising off your body.

-

"A... girlfriend?"

Jessica looked skeptical with her hips tilted in the opposite direction of her head. A frowned pinched in her face, and nose slightly crinkled. Miguel was a lot of things, but she had assumed that after all he'd been through, he lost interest in companionship. Though, it would explain why he'd been ducking out of missions and avoiding any talk about it. Her shoulders relaxed as she acted like she made sense of it in her head.

"Well, I- I mean, that's great." Her skepticism was replaced with a genuine smile. "That's pretty big, I won't tell anyone." She laughed and rested a fist on her hip. Before Miguel could begin saying thanks, she cut in; "If you tell me about her. I want details. Is she cute? Is she local? A Gwen?" A grin stretched across her features as she drew in closer, the other spider staring at her with a confused and somewhat uncomfortable expression.

Something beeped rapidly, and Lyla came into view near him. "Miguel, there's something wrong." Her voice chirped in his ear. Jessica looked between the two, her brows raising. "Multiverse? Anomally?" She was ready to spring into action. Miguel shut down the console, and his mask reformed over his face. "No, I'll be back tomorrow." He jumped from the platform and landed noisily on his feet. The man took off into a sprint, tearing past Jess and vanishing out the door.

Once gone, Jessica stood in silence. While the gears churned in her head, she frowned, knowing Miguel was lying.

-

With the loft situated at the tip of the tower, Miguel typically would ride the elevator up. Lyla had brought it to his attention that something was seriously wrong with you, and his instincts had him ferociously clawing his way up the side of the building. Pieces of cement and glass falling behind him as he tore himself upward, powerful shoulders and biceps flexing as he propelled on. Anything could have happened to you, and his mind went to the darker extremes.

After just a few moments, he crawled onto the balcony and ripped the door hard enough to break the lock. The force he used to tear the sliding glass door open caused an entire panel to shatter on impact as he walked inside. His mask pulled back, exposing wild red eyes and furrowed brows.

"Y/N?"

Miguel's sensitive ears picked up on the sound of the shower, and he cleared the living room in a single jump. A sweet smell tickled his nose, and he recoiled slightly, unsure what he was smelling. More panic pricked at his guts as he felt the desire to nest and protect you grow. "Y/N!" He barked, stepping into the bathroom and looking at your clothed, soaking form in the tub. "Dios- what are you doing?" He withdrew his gloves and felt the ice cold water. Hissing, he turned the shower off and dropped to his knees.

"Hey, hey," his voice softened, his burning red irises fading to brown as he delicately tried to lift and move you. As his bare hands touched you, he was stunned at the sheer amount of heat radiating off your body. "Hey!" He snapped, feeling a familiar dread building in him. Miguel was suddenly back in that alternate universe, watching everything fall apart and his daughter dying in his arms. That helplessness returning, realizing something was seriously wrong with you.

"C'mon, come on. Open your eyes, you're okay. You're okay." He pulled you into his arms and lap, cradling your soaked body against his. "Look at me, please. Please." His voice tightened, and a lump formed in his throat. Seeing you so pale and limp made him uneasy. His fingers press to your throat, feeling for a pulse. When you cough, he startles and stares down at you.

"There you are."

"Miguel.." You croaked, your throat raw from puking.

"Yeah, I'm here."

He was standing slowly, keeping you bridal style in his strong arms. "I missed you." You smiled, eyes still closed as you tucked your face into his chest. He felt his heart pound, heat rising to his cheeks as he took you to the bed and peeled your saturated clothes off. "You did?" He asked, flicking his eyes to your peaceful and tired expression. Miguel watched as you smiled and nodded, your little hands reaching to find him blindly. He leans close, pushing kisses to your palms and rubbing his face into them. A whine builds in his throat, relief hitting him now that you were conscious.

Miguel stood and tucked you naked into the bed. You curled up, still feverish but comfortable in the warmth. He runs back and forth from the kitchen, fetching you water and saltines, along with a small bin from the bathroom in case you need it. When you slumped and your breathing slowed, Miguel climbed into the bed behind you and curled his massive frame around yours, his own eyes feeling heavy. That sweet aroma persisted, making his heart pound and bones itch. There was a lingering desire to tuck you up somewhere high and far away, to build you a nest of webs and keep you from the world-

"Did you like it?"

Your voice pulled his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

Squirming yourself into his chest, you yawn and sag into the pillows. "My dance." You sounded dreamlike. Miguel was confused but pushed his face into your neck as he squeezed around you gently.

"I loved it, kid."

-

It was only nightmares in your slumber.

Your body, swelling and growing more until you burst. Spiders crawled out of your belly and along your skin, chittering as they began to feast on your skin. You were helpless to watch, sobbing and frozen, suspended in red, vibrant webbing.

"You're doing so well, you'll be ready for the next clutch soon."

His voice came from the dark, peering red eyes and a silhouette against the inky black. You sob and cry for help, but he only watches as your offspring take bite after searing bite.

"Such a good mother, Y/N."

As you sob, he says your name again.

Then again-

"Y/N!"

Blackness becomes light, and light gives way to the familiar face of Miguel. You gawk up at him, aware your heart was pounding. Miguel cupped his hand against your cheek, brown eyes wide and concerned as he leaned over you to check your eyes. "You alright? Bad dream?" He leaned closer, knocking his forehead to yours and sighing. "Thought you were a goner." He mumbled, his breath fanning your lips.

Everything in you felt electric. You recalled getting sick and stumbling into the shower, but you hadn't been sure what followed. It was difficult to discern your memories with him so close. He smelled differently to you now, too. His scent was stronger, comforting in the sense that you had a strong urge to push your face into him and inhale.

So you did.

Miguel jerks with surprise as you sink into his chest, clutching at him and breathing in. The smell was borderline hypnotic. You already had begun the process of crumbling for him, and now you were sinking even further. A large hand touches your back and rubs gently, uncertain. The change of heart confused him. "That fever really cooked your brain, princess." You smile against his shoulder and rub your cheek into his collar bone.

"I had a fever?" You lean back, looking up at him and admiring the strong line of his jaw. Miguel tilts, looking down at you. The eye contact makes your heart throb and heat rocket to your groin. "You were burning up when I found you. You had dragged yourself into the shower and passed out. Lyla picked up on the dip in your vitals." His thick fingers pet through your hair, dragging along your scalp and coming to rest at the base of your neck. The concern in his tone was palpable.

More warmth pooled on your insides, your heart quickening and loins catching fire. Miguel caught your scent, and his nostrils flared. At this distance, you could see when his pupils stretched and blew out. He drew a shaky breath and curled his fingers tighter against your neck. This reaction from him was new. Certainly he got riled up when it came to fucking you, but something was different. Your scent was amplified tenfold, and he could hear the patter of your fast pulse beneath your skin.

Jaw aching, Migule suddenly released your neck and tore himself across the bed. You were left stunned, sitting half obscurred by the think blankets as your captor stumbled out of the bedroom. Slipping out of the bed, you stand and realize how good you felt. It was a strange sensation, like having a really good nights sleep post workout. "Miguel!" You call, hearing him rummaging around. Stepping into the bathroom, you rinse your mouth and brush your teeth before heading out in one of his discarded shirts.

"Shit."

Miguel tossed things from the drawers and looked around. "Miguel?" You ask again, and he swivels to look at you. "Keep back." He warned, his teeth sharp and eyes glowing. One of his hands covered his nose and mouth, trying to keep your scent at bay. Miguel felt it had to be time for another shot. He had no idea you were having the same issue, like a tiger in a cage. All you could see was him, your body tightly coiled, ready to burst. Your skin itched, your bones tightened, and you struggled to form a coherent thought. The both of you stared at each other, wordless and trying to keep composure.

The scent of you was killing him. He could smell your sex and practically taste it with how strong your pheromones wafted over his olfactory sensors. This was different than when he was off his medicine. He wasn't hungry for blood. He was hungry for you. Every part of you calls to him like a lighthouse in the night. He wanted to nestle inside of you and draw your warmth for his own. In the same breath, he felt the powerful urge to breed you, to nest you, and to keep you safe.

His smell was doing almost the same to you. You had woken up with a new set of senses. You could see him better, hear him better, and smell him better. Your skin burned with desire, craving his own against it. An ache grew in your own jaws, the desire to sink your teeth into him and take him as yours, to cover him in your smell and ward off any others. To tell the world he was yours, only yours.

Something broke inside of you both.

Miguel came towards you as you rushed towards him and caught you in his arms. Your limbs wound around him like pythons as your mouths crashed together. The kissing was frantic and sloppy. Teeth against teeth, spit, and blood spilling from burst lips as you both fought tongue to tongue. He moves you backward, knocking you against the fridge and making you grunt into his mouth.

"Baby," you gasp, petting a hand through his thick, dark hair before gripping it like a vice. When you yank his head back, Miguel hisses. His red eyes are wild and teeth bare as he looks at you like an animal in a cage. "Fuck me."

Miguel takes you to the bedroom, bumping into various objects along the way as you devoured one another. He throws you down into the mattress - harder than intended - and you bounce and snarl. Something is different now. You feel alive, you feel *strong.* Baring your own teeth, you shift on all fours, lunging at him with your arms out. The bigger man catches you and throws you down again, and something in the bed cracks.

He descends upon you before you can retaliate. "You're an animal." His voice was breathless, amused as he grabbed your hips and flipped you face down into the mattress. Usually, Miguel controlled his strength to avoid breaking you. But now he grabbed you relentlessly, holding you down as he shoved the shirt up your back. "Gonna act like a wild bitch, I'm gonna fuck you like one." Miguel's voice was heavy with lust, growling out of his chest.

You struggle, but dip your back and widen your knees under you. While your new instincts begged for you to bite and mark him, they also simpered at being put in their place. Cunt leaking, you whine against the blankets. Miguel inhales, savoring your scent as he slaps your ass , claws out. The hit stings, making you lurch forward and shriek. Your own nails dig into the blankets, tearing them as you shove back towards him. Miguel watched the mark bloom on your skin, and he smirked as he cupped your mound and shoved in two fingers.

The heat of your insides is searing, and he gasps, pumping to the knuckle in quick, strong movements. You keen for him, shoving back to meet him as stars burst behind your eyes. "Fuck me, please." You couldn't recognize your own voice. The desire so strong you were certain you'd end up melting into the mattress itself. A chuckle rumbles behind you and you whine at the loss of those thick fingers, though you weren't empty for long. Miguel's cock forces inside, filling every inch of available space within you.

You two groan in tandem, and you shove back to force him to hilt. Miguel grunts, his large, calloused hands grasping your hips to start pumping you on his dick. His dark eyes honed in, watching your tight body swallow his length like it were made for him. The sounds you make are unhinged. Sharp cries mixed with breathless groans as he punches the air out of you. Your mind is white hot, and your cunt sears from the friction of him dragging within you.

"O-oh, o-oh f-f-fuck." You manage to gasp out between thrusts. The sound of your bodies plapping together nearly as loud as your cries.

Miguel grins, teeth flashing as a fist slides up your spine and grips into your hair. Grasping at the root, he curls his digits and yanks. Your face is pulled from the bed and your back in a deep arch as he continues to fuck you. "There's my girl. Look at you." He was panting too, his body wracked with the same heat that ravaged yours.

"I wanna feel you cum, princess." Miguel shifts his weight after a few good thrusts. Forcing your head into the blankets, he leans his weight over you and begins to rock harder. Pummeling your end with each pump, his hips colliding noisily with your ass. You are certain he might break you. Shrieking in response to the new angle, you drool and babble for him, his cock stoking the swelling bubble inside you.

You were babbling to him, pleading for him to stop - possibly from a force of habit - but also begging him to cum inside you. Miguel can't make it, and neither can you. As he collides his dick against the spongey, puckered hole of your cervix, you feel fireworks. Your cunt clenches down around him in a wave of convulsions so hard it nearly forces him out. Miguel holds your hips, no longer thrusting but pushing against you to keep himself nestled deep. The milking of your pussy tugs him over the edge shortly after you.

The hero bucks once more for good measure as he empties inside you. His cum hot and thick, painting your insides and saturating you with his essence. As you both catch your breath, you feel Miguel slip out of you and whine from his absence. Large hands flip you over, and he scoops you up. Settling back and leaning against the headboard, Miguel rests you in his lap. For just a moment you look at one another. Sweaty and flushed from sex.

You lean forward, hands on his shoulders as you steal one kiss, then another. Miguel chases your mouth with his own, his hands smoothing over your hips and squeezing before repeating the motion on your ass. "What has gotten into you?" He mutters into your starving mouth. You pause, a hand moving behind his head to grip his hair and yank his head back. Miguel flinches, looking up at you through lidded eyes.

"Aside from you? Nothing." You hum, admiring his jaw and the grooves in his cheeks. "That's funny." His voice was flat, but he did smirk. "Think you can go again, old man?" You release his hair to focus on sitting up on him. Miguel blinks, then nods, his hands back on your hips.

"Good boy."

-

When you both were fully spent, you laid in his arms. Miguel was watching the ceiling, listening to you as you rambled about trips you took outside the city. It all felt strange to him now. Your scent, your cooperation, the way you touched and looked at him. He couldn't place what happened - assuming maybe you had finally snapped. But that wouldn't account for your smell.

Breathing in through his mouth, he tasted your pheremones and felt his chest twinge again. He could feel those urges from before growing; to nest you, feed you, and protect you. Then, the pieces started to fall in place.

You getting sick.

The change in your smell.

The change in your behavior.

How you ached for him.

Miguel's mouth pressed to a thin line as he ran over all the facts again. Then again, and again. No matter how he tried to explain it, there was only one answer. His dark eyes flicked down to you, watching as you rubbed your face into his chest and sniffed at him. He watched your mouth open and the glint of your newly growing fangs as you nip at him. Miguel feels his heart begin to race, recognizing now that you were changing too.

There was no other explanation.

"Miguel? Did you hear me?"

The pound of his heart drowned your voice out. This had been what he wanted, hadn't it? To fill the void his daughter left? To find new happiness and move on, to have another chance?

Panic was building now. Everything was uncharted territory. You were changing, pregnant with his child(ren?) and he was going to be a father again. Miguel didn't register your little hands on his cheeks or the way you continued to say his name. All he could hear was the screams of people around him as their universe caved in. He could feel his daughter's weight fading from his arms, leaving him empty. Now you were pregnant and everything could go wrong.

How did he take care of a pregnant woman without getting caught?

Where would you go for check ups? It wasn't like an OBGYN worked in the tower. There were too many holes in his plan now, he would be risking keeping you to himself. He hadn't thought this part through. Now he could potentially lose you both - not to mention the complications of carrying mutant spider spawn.

"Miguel." Your mouth presses to his.

Eyes widening, he saw you. You sat on top of him, eyes big and face concerned. Miguel clasped your hips and held you close. "Where'd you go?" You ask, rubbing his chest. He stares up, watching for a moment before he sighs and takes your wrist. Pulling your hand to his mouth, he kisses your palm before pressing it to his cheek. "Long day at work, is all."

He knew lying to you wouldn't work for long. No doubt you'd realize sooner rather than later that your body was no longer just your own.

Miguel could cross that bridge when you got to it.

"I'm sorry." You mumble, shifting off of him. "Let's get some rest then. We can shower in the morning." Nestling yourself into his side, you stretch an arm over the expanse of his stomach and squeeze him gently. Miguel wrapped an arm around you and squeezed gently, his eyes still fixated on the ceiling.

It was going to work out.

It had to.

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Skeleton is hungry and saved a part of his favorite cake in the fridge. But when he gets down, he sees his brother, the mouth full of HIS cake. Reaction?

Undertale Sans - He faceplants dramatically on the floor and refuses to move for the rest of the day. Betrayed by his own brother. His soul can't take it. Papyrus pushes him with his foot in a corner so he doesn't stay in the middle of his way and tells him to get over it lol.

Undertale Papyrus - He's mad but used to it. He just sighs as Sans gives him a guilty-but-actually-not-at-all kind of look. That's fine. He can make another cake and put an advanced puzzle above it to dissuade Sans' slow mind from trying his chance. Also, the ketchup mysteriously disappears that night. Who would dare? Papyrus has no idea who could have possibly done this.

Underswap Sans - He grins his teeth and slowly turns towards Honey who stares at him blankly. "what?" "RUN." "aw come on bro it's only... ok... oh shit, blue no, no, nO!" Blue charges him. Honey screams but can't dodge him fast enough. Blue is fighting to get what's left of the cake as Honey is just screaming like he gets murdered, trying to keep it out of his reach.

Underswap Papyrus - He gives his brother the kicked puppy eyes all day long and refuses to talk to him. He only stops when feeling guilty, Blue goes out to buy another cake lol. Honey then acts like nothing happened, happy he managed to manipulate his brother.

Underfell Sans - "da fuck?! why is that for?!" "I WAS HUNGRY!" "stop shittin me ya hate cake!" "WHAT IF I LIKE CAKE NOW?" "look at ya're face ya look like ya're dying." "WELL MAYBE I WOULDN'T HAVE EATEN THE CAKE IF YOU HADN'T EAT MY FAVORITE ICE CREAM IN THE FIRST PLACE!" "that was two weeks ago! how can you be a freaking captain and such a child?! get over it already!" "I'M NOT A CHILD YOU'RE THE CHILD" "oh yeah? want to try me, child?" Ok, Red maybe got too far and realized it when Edge suddenly jumped at his face to fight him. And ok, maybe he got beaten up like a loser. But still! His cake!

Underfell Papyrus - He growls at Red, who continues eating, not giving a shit. Well, until Edge grabs a trash bag and starts pouring his mustard bottles in it. Red starts to panic and even lets him the rest of the cake. Good. He doesn't care about the cake anyway, he doesn't like cake. He just wanted to cause chaos because he felt like it.

Horrortale Sans - He stares at Willow without blinking the whole time he eats the cake. Willow feels uncomfortable but also he baked the cake and woke up early so go to hell he's not giving him his cake. Oak will continue to follow him all day, just staring at him silently, judging.

Horrortale Papyrus - He facepalms. Of course, Oak would do this. Oak looks at him like a sad puppy, and slowly pushes what's left of the cake his way as an apology. Willow sighs and gives him back. He can have ice cream instead...

Swapfell Sans - He slowly turns towards Rus. Rus waves at him, mouth full of cake, then disappears in thin air. Nox let's go a high-pitched screech that broke two windows.

Swapfell Papyrus - The next day, there are Wanted posters everywhere in the house and in the street with Nox's face offering a price for his capture, saying he is a dangerous cake stealer and to not act alone.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He could never find the courage to say something to his brother so he says nothing. That's good because Coffee absolutely knows it and that's the reason he ate that cake in the first place. Coffee is an expert at manipulation when he wants.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - "you ate...my cake?" he asks with a trembling voice, staring at his brother with tearing eyes. Wine immediately panics saying that it's obviously not his cake because he would have never done this and to let him five minutes before he runs to the door to buy another cake. Coffee shrugs and goes to sit in the couch. Breakfast is coming apparently.

[cupidsdescendant]

loved the sniper x y/n smut you wrote!! please write more smut with him, he’s adorable🥺❤️

perhaps a part two?? :D

HAI ANON!! TYSM I'M SO HAPPY YOU LOVE IT!!! I will be writing more smut with him but the part two I created doesn't have any ;w; I apologize about that! I totes will make more smut with him in the future tho!!

Feverish Lust (PART 2)

*listening to Pinkies Brew as I write this lol* Part 2 to the first Smut fic I wrote My heart is warmed to the core knowing people enjoyed this <3 thank you so much for the feedback!!

It's been 4 days since the "incident". The heat had lifted and everything was at a reasonable temperature. The routine of a cool, sunny day had returned but the heat between Y/N and Sniper lingered. Sniper had been high-strung ever since and tried to avoid Y/N in any way he could. Dodging her during fights, changing his positions, and even telling the mercs to keep her away from him. Every night since then he'd lay on the floor with his legs spread spacing out to the idea of experiencing what Y/N did for him again albeit changing parts of it to fit his fantasies. Thoughts of Y/N crawling to him and slowly unbuttoning his shirt, teasing him by pulling his zipper down with her teeth, seeing her chest exposed in that dirty position...it drove him mad. Sniper never masturbated to it though. He found it to be ill-mannered and disrespectful to pleasure himself to the thought of another person without their consent. Instead, he let himself get hot and bothered by it before snapping himself to reality and going to bed.

Y/N hadn't seen him since that day and she worried. There was no sign of him and she feared he hated her. She rested her body on the wall of the Medbay, waiting for her annual checkup with Medic "Did I go overboard...?" Her heart sank. She liked him for a long, long time and a pang of guilt stung her, realizing she never confessed her feeling and that was both their first intimate moment with each other. Y/N's face was warm, embarrassment crept its way in and she put a hand over her mouth trying to hold back anything she could say.

Mornings rose and nights fell as been 2 weeks since Sniper and Y/N had talked nor interacted. The guilt had eaten at her. Her performance levels had decreased during matches and she'd become more fatigued. It felt strange seeing this from her, considering she was one of the mercenaries that had been incredibly ambitious and competitive. Soon enough, everyone else started to notice. On the first night of the 3rd week, Y/N stayed in her room staring at the wall and imagining the possibility of an alternate path. "We could've talked...I could've just talked. I could've, I should've-ugh." Even trying to find a solution to fixing the past never seemed right. Y/N was jolted out of her thoughts by three forceful knocks. She hastily got out of bed and asked in a panicked tone, "Who's there?"

"Y/N. It is Heavy." She took a deep breath and exhaled a sigh of relief "Doors open."

Heavy grabbed the chair from Y/N's desk and quietly positioned himself while she observed him. "Do you need something, Heavy?" Y/N leaned against the wall, folding her arms. Heavy let out a quiet grunt as he gazed around her room. "We are worried for Y/N. You stay in room for very long now." Y/N appeared puzzled. She felt flattered by the concern "we" had shown toward her. She had never imagined that the mercenaries paid any attention to her actions. "Really?" "Yes. They think you did something to Bushman. He is also very quiet. Gone more than usual... " "You did something to Bushman" Y/N was angered by Heavy's statement. "WE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!" she exclaimed defensively, feeling her joints stiffen and her eyes scrunch up. As a result, Y/N's mind was polluted with negative thoughts. "They were talking about you?!" "I bet they were judging, they probably all think you're a whore, that you're dirty. DIRTY!" Her heart felt like it was about to burst. Heavy's eyes widen and his eyebrows compressed to a worried-like arch "There is no reason to be angry. Heavy was saying what the team was saying! Please do not be angry at Heavy." The atmosphere was thick with a palpable silence, leaving him in a state of uncertainty regarding the direction of the conversation or the appropriate course of action to take.

A hiccup escaped Y/N's mouth as tears formed on the surface of her tear ducts. An intense wave of emotions struck, her head pounding forming an instant headache, making it hard to suppress her feelings. "No, Heavy-! I..I did do something! But I-" As much as she wanted to pour everything out she still tried to contain a torrent of emotions within herself. "I-f-feel-" She clenched her teeth and she breathed through her mouth. Heavy got up and walked slowly to Y/N trying not to scare her and gave her a huge, warm, and loving bear hug. He placed a finger on his lips and hushed, signaling for her to be quiet. As she cried, she felt the vibrations of his stomach beneath her, seeking comfort in his embrace. She held on tightly as she hiccuped the last she could at the moment "I-I should've...I'm sorr-y..never done that, Heavy, I wish I-" Y/N was shortly cut off: "Shhh...It's okay, Heavy is here. It is okay, do not worry."

The hours passed as Heavy kept a close watch on Y/N, relieving her of her pain and sorrows. Heavy learning her deepest secret was shocking but he didn't let what he learned changed his perception of Y/N's character and her as a woman. The two sat down on Y/N's bed after standing for so long and slouched over her bed frame. He gently patted her back as she rested her head on his forearm, with her hair tousled and her face still flushed. Her lips and eyelids were puffy and her eyes were visibly low on energy. "You should talk to bushman." Her eyes traced Heavy up to his eyes that have been staring at the wall. "He will do you no harm."

"It's not as easy as you think it would be. I don't even know where he is." "He is not in tower?" "no." "Then I will bring him to you." Heavy got up and stretched his back and shoulders. Y/N watched as he placed his hand on the doorknob, about to open it. She raised her voice. "Heavy, please don't get involved. I don't really want-" But before she could finish her sentence, the door closed, leaving Y/N alone.

"Where are you taking me, mate." Sniper's boots kicked the dirt as he followed Heavy. His eyes were glued to the floor and he kept his hands in his pockets. "You will find out when we get there," Heavy said assertively. Y/N nervously tapped her knee, feeling a sense of panic wash over her. Despite having a fully written script, she was unsure of what to say or do next. "Please don't come please don't come please don't come" The door creaked open from the outside as Heavy's figure appeared. "Y/N." Sniper was caught off guard. He stood silent behind Heavy as he pressed his thumb and index finger against the fabric inside his jeans. He needed to find something to ground him, to make him feel less nervous but with each pinch, he realized that he was really within inches of the girl he tried to hide from.

"You two talk now." Heavy walked to the side to reveal the quivering Sniper and he walked behind, closing the door. They both stared in opposite directions of the room, trying to avoid any possible eye contact. Sniper and Y/N let themselves soak in the silence and didn't make any obvious want to talk. She picked away at the skin on her thumbs, he ripped the pocket in his jean from all the friction between his fingers and left a hole where he dug his finger in to expand it. Y/N took out her paper from her pocket. It was folded into a small square, and the sides of it were chaffed from her playing with it. The paper wasn't moist or wet but because of her intense anxiety, her entire body was hot which made the paper limp with drops of sweat. She opened it and her thumbs dented it, her expression changed to regret. When she wrote it at the time it seemed like everything was perfect, that everything she had to say to the man was written confidently but now that she sees him standing in front of her, Y/N had no idea how to get her words out. It was so easy in her head.

Sniper's head was throbbing, too many thoughts had cluttered his voice of reason. At any point, he could blurt out something but he didn't know the effect of what it would do. He couldn't grasp a single thought for long enough to make out something that would be beneficial to Y/N. He couldn't think of anything. "Start with something simple. Something that will start something."

"Hiya, Sheila." Y/N looked up to see a guilty-looking Sniper, he bit his lip ever so slightly, and his eyebrows furrowed. Y/N just gazed at him. Nothing escaped her lips and she didn't reply, she just stared. She let the atmosphere stay silent. She felt hurt by his response because it took her back to that day. The sounds around them control the conversation, the tapping of the water falling down a pipe, Scout's voice bouncing outside with energy, and the wind flowing in through the window. How was she going to respond to that? What was she going to say?? How would she even say it? "I'm sorry." She said after what felt like ages. "I'm sorry, Mundy." She stared deeply at the paragraphs she wrote in her letter, all the question marks surrounding sentences, and the last thing she wrote. I'm sorry

"Don't be... Uhm-." The clicking of his shoes grew closer to Y/N and she looked up. He stared back at her, his eyes softer. "I should be sorry. I'm sorry I ..tried to ignore you." He averted his eyes to the wall. "I'm sorry I was, I didn't, I didn't know how I was going to approach you after that. It changed my feelings for you a lot." A light pink flushed his cheeks. Only he really knew what changed during that time, his fantasies. Y/N got up and straightened her back, she let go of the paper and she looked him in the eyes. Y/N confidently raised her voice

"Mundy, I'm in love with you. I've been for a long time," she continued but her confidence lessened when her head computed her next sentence, "and. and well-..well, I wish. I wish-..I wish I didn't do that. It was nice, but I wish I told you how I felt beforehand." After expressing what she finally meant to say all along her words stringed on perfectly, "I want to get to know you, I want to love you. I want to experience things how they're supposed to be before I do anything like that with you. I love you, Mundy." Y/N grabbed both of his hands and squeezed them with hers "Let me experience love with you before any kind of lust."

Sniper's eyes fell into Y/N's. He stared at her. Her eyes were wistful and bright. He had no words. He took his hand and rested it on her cheek, resting his lips onto hers and pushing his upper lip. They closed his eyes and let the sensations bury any doubt they had, their mouths dancing with one another and taking in each other with each readjustment. They opened their eyes, both of them having their chest beat with affection. Passion dripped from one another's mouths and they took pleasure in looking at each other afterwards. Y/N could feel him stare into her soul.

"I love you too, Y/N"

this took me a week to write ;-; hope it was too yall's liking!! I'm sorry this wasn't smut, I know it was wanted (I'll write another story with it dw ;) but I really think it was important for this to be addressed IMO ) Again I love you all, and thank you so much for the support. This blog means the absolute world to me!!! Mwah! GG

[fern-writes-whump]

Fernnn I’m back with more promptsss

“Caretaker no! It’s not worth it-“ *gets tazered*

“She’s not looking to good, hero. Better make a choice fast. Her… or the world?”

(Used as bait trope. Caretaker/hero x whumpee villain whumper) all of our favorite things. HAPPY WRITING

YES this is great thank youu ✨✨✨ I ended up slightly off script here but I hope you like it <3

warning for violence and captivity, please tell me if I should tag more stuff ! ft generic Hero, Villain & Supervillain bc I still haven't made super ocs lol

---

Villain was starting to lose what little sliver of optimism had rubbed off on her from Hero. She was kneeling at the top of a skyscraper, in a fucking shock collar, and with a gun pointed at her head. Not to mention the concussion Supervillain's men had most likely caused her on their way there. All to say: she wasn't looking good and she sure as shit didn't feel it.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out about this rat, Hero?"

Ah, that too. She wasn't stupid, of course double-crossing Supervillain couldn't last and it was a miracle she managed it as long as she did. But it wasn't like her line of work allowed her to put in a two weeks now, did it? She wanted out, and Hero said he could help her if she helped him first. And what a great deal that was.

"You don't have to do this- let her go!" Sweet, brave, dumb Hero. She never understood why they always bothered with that, trying to reason with a man that was holding the whole city hostage.

Supervillain predictably replied by simply cackling, looking at Hero like he was a toy that was starting to get dangerously boring. "I can't do that. Forgiveness really isn't my style…" He drawled out twirling the collar's remote in his left hand. "What kind of message would it send if I spared a traitor?" His voice was dripping with venom now, his whole act depended on him seeming cold and uninterested but she knew her betrayal had stung him deep.

"What do you want?" Hero asked through gritted teeth, way too meek compared to his usually boisterous persona. He was only looking at her, just like she was only looking at him. He was tired. Nobody could tell but her but the fight had dragged on for hours and no kind of superpowers could save him from exhaustion.

"Oh! That's the fun part, Hero." Supervillain's tone was amused, mocking, alarmingly cheerful. "I already have what I want." He cocked his head to the side looking at Villain and repositioning his gun to the side of her head, making sure Hero had a good view. "The only question is if you'll make things more complicated for yourself"

"Now Hero, there's two ways this can go." The silence stretched for seconds that felt like hours. Villain tried to ease her breathing, she couldn't think of a single way this would end well for her. "Option number one. You drop your weapon and let me carry on with my plans. I'll let her go and turn a blind eye as long as you stay away from my… endeavors. Who cares about a few thousand civilians anyway?"

Hero was growing restless, just on the verge of doing something stupid and impulsive. He stayed perfectly still, glaring daggers at Supervillain and forcing himself to hear the rest of his threats before throwing himself at him.

Supervillain grinned at Hero's display of self-control, he could see the way his muscles were tensing and it amused him to no end knowing he was scared enough to think instead of acting for once. "Option number two." He carried on, taking his sweet time. "You try and save the day as you usually do, follow your moral compass and all that crap. But…" He pretended to stop and think, looking almost genuinely puzzled. "…Hero, are you really sure you're fast enough to stop me before I blow her brains out?"

She swallowed. She looked at Hero, but he wasn't looking at her anymore, he was looking somewhere just over her head. The gun. There was no point in wiping her tears in the state that she already was in, not that she could have with her hands bound behind her back. "Do it."

Hero's face went from panicked to confused and terrified within seconds. She didn't give him time to react before she was shouting at him. "Run!" She was calmer than she ever thought she'd be in a situation like that. She had to come to terms with the idea of getting hurt or even killed years ago but nobody could really predict how they'd react knowing they were seconds away from leaving this world. "You can still make it in time to stop it!"

"You know I'm not worth it, Hero! You can't let-" Her words were cut short by a surge of pain coursing through her whole body. She crumpled to the ground, shaking and seizing, her vision abandoning her immediately from the pain. Hero was screaming her name but she couldn't hear him over the ringing in her ears. While she was catching her breath, Supervillain turned his attention back to Hero.

"Choose!" He screamed, cocking the gun.

Two gunshots rang out almost simultaneously. The first thing she registered was how loud it was, then she saw Supervillain fall to the ground beside her.

Within seconds Hero was by her side, cursing and apologizing all at once, he was holding her, pulling her against his chest. Her vision was still blurry and she felt so lightheaded. At some point, he must have untied her because she was looking at her hand on Hero's cheek. She wiped a tear off of his face and distantly wondered why she had left a red stain behind instead.

[no-shxme]

since ive had people asking about it, here's

an overview of my writing process:

its very long (but split into 4 sections) so i will be posting it below the read-more. i fr threw up all over the post and it covers my writing process specifically. because i write unreliable narration >> canonic characters, etc this will prolly not be as useful for like, idk, crack fic writers or whatever else. basically this is what works for me. it might not work for you, but feel free to peruse, im sure no 2 writer's processes are exactly the same. (AND THATS COOL)

Step 1: The Idea & Start

usually my fic starts with a single scene/mood/line, and the whole fic is started around that. (for ex: my fic Teeth started bc of 1 set of lines that we haven't even gotten to yet. [sob]) this also helps me be more motivated, as i become pretty desperate to get that scene/mood/etc written. (as i write i often find new goalposts to write to, which helps keep me motivated, yeah)

occasionally i will write out an initial drabble (like 1 or 2 paragraphs) set in the story idea i have, just to see if i like whatever's going on before i commit.

before i start i decide my setting or at least whatever parts of the setting are relevant. (i wont go into it here bc that's not exactly process.) then i'm game to start.

i've heard a lot of writers struggle with starting a fic and ending it. starting a fic isn't usually a problem for me but if i don't like how the beginning is looking it's usually because i've started it too far away from relevant plot. i don't want to write too much beginning set up, so my solution is always to delete what i have and restart the scene closer to when something happens.

(for ex: when writing everything that went wrong over the summer, the story started earlier and was going to have kayn discover rhaast at the end of the first chapter. but halfway through i decided it was bad. i didnt want to reveal too much and it was kinda boring, became a slog of wordlbuilding. i hated it so i deleted it and instead we meet rhaast in literally the second paragraph.)

imo if you are having trouble with starting stories, literally just throw yourself into the action, its the best way to jog a stuck start. move up the timeline, make things move faster. ask yourself if you really need all the space before the action happens. this method also be used on other scenes, not just beginnings.

it's generally a good idea to figure out what the minimum amount of time you need to complete your story. (this plot that takes place over three weeks, can it be done in three days instead?) but i dont always do that for fanfiction, more my personal writing. fanfiction can be loose and slimy, thats okay. i'm not gonna stress myself over it like i do with my book lol. for me fanfiction is like a vacation. since the characters are already established i can be free to experiment stylistically and try new things.

Step 2: The Writing (The Slog)

(The longest section of this post)

I actually have SO many notes for my writing process so this will be all over the place.

Whenever I write ANYTHING my goals are the following:

keep things concise, without crazy exposition or information overloads.

to me writing is kinda like a puzzle, or a combination lock. i have a line or thought and i just continuously swap words around in my head or on a doc until something clicks. my goal is not just something that fits, it's something that fits BEST. (i am not always successful at this.) so yeah sometimes a line sounds good, but how do i make it sound BETTER. i am always thinking about lines. all the time. i am always turning a scene in my head trying to find the best angle. im literally doing it right now.

this is a stylistic choice that might not apply to everyone, but i love writing unreliable narrators and therefore always write them. in fanfiction i like trying to keep the characters close to their canon personalities, so a lot of the following advice is through that lens.

WHEN IT COMES TO PLOT:

by the time i write my first scene i usually have an idea of the ending. i'm not too terribly focused on it but i definitely prefer to know it. its just something i have to reach eventually. usually little plot ideas will start sprouting up like checkpoints between the start and the end, and then it's just the matter of figuring out how to bridge the gaps between them. one of my favorite tricks i like to use for longer or difficult plots is work backwards. (i call it Keyframing)

(for ex: let's say i'm writing a story about a knight who marries a dragon, but i can't figure out how the hell that's gonna happen. an easy way to come up with ideas is think: what's 1 thing that has to happen between the start goal (there's a knight) and the ending (married to a dragon)? it could be something simple. the knight has to get to the dragon's lair before he can get married. okay, great, there's another plot checkpoint. now what's 1 thing that has to happen between the start and getting to the lair? and also what's 1 thing that has to happen between getting to the lair and getting married?

as you keep adding 1 thing to the plot between points, it basically writes itself, or gives you a very good list of things that HAVE to happen in order to progress the story. then you can add embellishments and tweak it, but its a good method i use for avoiding over-complicated plot. periodically i also ask myself: can this be simplified further?

in cases where i don't have an ending in mind (about 35% of the time) i let my characters drive the plot. this is very easy because i write unreliable, character focused narration. all i think is: ok what're they gonna do. how would they do xyz. hows this affect them. i'll also think about my end goal for the character as it slowly develops and ask myself if it's realistic for them. i don't write crack so if it's something a character won't do then i just won't write it. i'll figure out some other goal or method to achieve the same effect, even if the scrapped idea is cute. :C the end result is usually a more convincing character. (once again this is literally just how i write ff. you DONT have to write like this) in many cases the goal is fine but the method isn't, so i have to rethink how the character realistically reaches that goal. (this was very much the case in my fic, One Promise)

WHEN IT COMES TO WRITER'S BLOCK:

here's my methods for getting over writer's block in no particular order:

taking a break. (or a nap)

reading poetry (this helps bc i try to write poetic) or just read, if im in a pickle.

changing location. (if you write on your phone/laptop. just go somewhere else)

delete the scene and restart from a diff angle. (not advised tbh. i dont think this is a good method, even if it works for me. im only listing it bc its something i do.)

to a lesser degree: changing the font, listening to music i would never listen to normally. or not listening to music at all.

walking around in circles talking to myself about whatever line im chewing on. :/

Okay now im just gonna list a mixed bag of shit that pertains to my literal writing process:

i use google docs because i like to write on my phone and my tablet. i will write in bed before sleeping or in the car. ill write wherever. occasionally i will also use scrivener on my pc for writing assistance. or ms paint. (dont make me go into it)

i almost always try to write what the CHARACTER sees or experiences, versus what a narrator would see. (for example, in my fic Teeth, sett's ears are mentioned a lot. it's because talon keeps noticing them.) this is super important in my writing as it also serves meaning and makes things more concise. oh a character is an artist? so they might notice the technique in a painting. versus the same painting viewed by a carpenter, who might focus more on describing the picture frame. i have specific thoughts on (confident) character voice/unreliable narration, but this post is long lol. if anyone wants to hear it lemme know.

for the most part i only try to describe what's necessary. im not trying to introduce too many characters BY NAME or too many places or too much detailed description-dumping, unless im trying to hide something. ESPECIALLY IN FAN FICTION. one thing i keep in mind is that the reader will fill in the gap. like i could write 'a kitchen with green walls and one window' and boom you already have an idea of what the kitchen could look like. i could write a character using a stove and different readers might imagine that stove in two different places, as pertaining to their imaginary kitchen. that's fine. as long as the location of the stove is unimportant then i dont need to describe it. basically if it's not Vital to my vision then i often don't bother writing it. (this also allows me to push themes and sneak things, but this post is too long)

often while i write im thinking ahead, so ill start noting future lines/plot ideas to use at the bottom of the document so i dont forget them. if it's a long fic my lines-to-be-used will be like, pages long lol.

JUST WRITE. I JUST WRITE. sometimes its slop, that okay. i try to write every single day.

whenever i return to a wip i reread it to get in the Groove.

as i write i sometimes make comments (in google docs) on some words that i know are placeholders. like i'll write a sentence and think: i need to change that word, but im too in the flow to do that now, so i just make a quick note so i dont miss it when editing. i have shorthand for it too, like for example, WC stands for 'word choice' and REP stands for 'too much repetition.' sometimes im lazy and dont do this ._.

speaking of repetition, one of my lil tricks is to start a list of repetitive words as i write. i will often throw in the names of characters, and some common pitfall words for me (words that i have a tendency to use too often). this is helpful for....

Step 3: The Editing

okay first i take a break. the length often depends on how long the fic is. if its a shortie then i just play a game or 2 of league or smth. i must banish the story from my brain.

when i come back i give it a read over and edit whatever issues i see, reword, blah blah. i also use Ctrl + F with my list of repetitive words! this way i can clearly see problem areas where i've used the same word too close together. i will also Ctrl + F grammar missteps, namely double spaces, double periods, and double commas.

for word choice ideas i use wordhippo :3c sometimes i recognize that a line needs to cook so ill come back to it.

i also do character checks where needed. (Would they REALLY do that?) at this point i can identify a problem area pretty easily so i dont do it that much anymore.

then as my final editing step i read the whole thing aloud. this step is so important that i never skip it, even on long ass docs. reading it aloud to myself is vital. when i read it aloud i can actually test the dialogue and see cadence issues and random mistakes that i never catch anywhere else. for longer stories this is done chapter by chapter as finished, which is,,, thank god lol.

if im unsure about a story then i'll let it ferment for a while (days, weeks) before i come back and edit, just to make sure im not crazy or smth.

Step 4: The Posting

i post in ao3's rich text format, so it keeps some of the formatting. then i hit PREVIEW and then i hit EDIT again. bc ao3 is finicky about italics and will add weird ugly spaces bc of that. so to get rid of them i use my CTRL + F method again to check for space + periods (literally a space then a period), space + commas, double spaces (again), etc. i also center those *** things that people use as scene breaks bc they're never centered. takes like 5 minutes.

then i post and try not to feel immediately awful lol.

anyway that's my writing process. this ended up super fucking long holy shit. sorry i like, rambled and blabbed. i try to be thorough. there's a lot more that i can talk about not pertaining to the process itself but like, yeahhhh. thanks if you read all this, hopefully its not terribly boring.

[trashbinbackyard]

10-15 for emil n odesa

Two blorbos with terrible main character energy

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

Somehow, despite his near crippling guilt and the horror of being in early 20s, his mental health is ok taking in the variables. It’s more of a struggle of identity than any mental affliction. Sif and Arvid are there to help him navigate it all, and he has his faith to turn to (even though its at odds with  his lived experience). He does get a grip of his identity once all the shackles of normalcy and polite society are thrown off

She’s depressed and an insomniac so she makes herself useful. Takes time to herself very rarely and is nearing burnout most of the time, but having Kerim with similar issues they look after each other. She also has Samalan and Naveen to remind her that she doesn’t need to do everything all by herself. So she has people to lean on.

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

So I discovered Insomnium earlier this year and their concept album Anno 1696 and there’s several characters that were a jumping off point for the forest gang in general. For Emil it’s the witch hunter and the witch’s husband (songs White christ and The rapids). I made Emil younger and more pathetic. And also those tumblr posts about christianity can't find them right now but “i am the priests favorite sacrificial lamb” and “you were born wretched and it took killing a god to make you redeemable” is what i can remember

Odesa literally started as, and is, an Odysseus ripoff, cringe is dead and I feel zero shame. I got into the iliad again last summer and went, huh, I really want a rat bastard professional liar and horse guy as a blorbo, with a terrible haircut, and lo and behold! She! And then i projected my own insecurities to her and shipped her off with a short king, she's the complete package

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

Oo this is a tough one, no crossovers as of now. On the surface he’d fit with the fuckerwoods fellas and hunters, the werewolves specifically. I’m having a hard time with this but someone a bit freaky, spiritual and family oriented

Again no crossover but tossing her into the spymaster mix could be in a “this will end up horribly for multiple people involved” way

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

Just the concept of organized religion once the puzzle pieces click together. No particular person bc he believes in the innate good in people, and those who have crossed swords with him are dead so, yeah

She plays a little cat and mouse game with the silver court, she has nothing personal against them, but their interests are just clashing, her best rival is Queen Rosanna. They’re both very smart and subtle in their dealings and Odesa finds her visits to Hirien Zilarr entertaining because of the queen

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

The Cardinal in charge of the convent he was raised at. Once again, if he ever met them again he wouldn’t jump at them but he would grit his teeth and turn heel. (hasn’t seen them in years and years)

It has to be the templar commander, he doesnt even have a name yet but his place in the silver court in my notes is “leads the templars, everyone hates him, is competent unfortunately”

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

Lol nope, he got roasted to a severe degree and then comes back as revenant to haunt Eha (his fate was sealed at the very beginning bc i do like contained stories, it’s a about the journey)

She has better odds of making it, but after the war will either be won or in an eternal stalemate, she’ll go back to sailing, a very perilous life she leads. Might make it to 50, most likely goes out in a shipwreck under the stars in a very poetic manner. Or she retires and become an island lord, dunno, still figuring out the whole area so we’ll see