#t$$ test track au

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Test Track AU (T$$ AU Masterlist)

previous // next (cw: self harm/suicide attempt)

as suggested by anon!

tag list:

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me ,

@pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden , @snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles ,

@echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes , @clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000

@suspicious-whumping-egg, @cryptidwritings , @painsandconfusion , @grizzlie70 , @bloodsweatandpotato ,

@ladyblogofficialreporter @whumper-soot , @poeticagony , @lthrboy , @unforgivenn

[tteokdoroki]

Denji blushes when you hold his cock hand

☆༉ — DENJI. pretty boy.

about. let’s pretend this ask isn’t years old but yeah actually he does omg :( !! started writing this ages ago but finished for @miguelism mwah <3

warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact. characters aged up to 20s, smut, nsfw, handjobs, exhibitionism, praise kink, college!au, gn!reader, roommate!denji.

“denji…”

“uhuh— i mean, uh, yeah?”

“has anyone told you, you’ve got such a pretty cock?”

you feel the entirety of denji’s length twitch within your hold— his head full of sunshine blonde hair falling back on the wall you’ve caged him against. your fingers are soft, pillowy around his thick shaft and your thumb presses to his leaky slit curiously, watching his face for a reaction. “y-you’d be the first…ah—fuck!” denji whimpers, golden brown eyes falling away from the world as you give your wrist an experimental flick, testing the waters on what you can do to him. “that’s nice…that’s real nice.”

you giggle, his precum oozing into the seat of your palm the more you start to jerk him off in the right space of aki’s bathroom. “yeah? i want you to feel good, denji.” you doubt that your roommates would want to be woken up by slick sounds and whiny whistle tone moans, so you step forward and reach out into the dark— pressing your lips against your boyfriend’s in a slow, syrupy kiss.

it’s adorable how he chases the warmth of your mouth, like a moth drawn to a candle flame, when you pull away to check the door only briefly. “come back, baby…please,” he pleads while he feverishly fucks your hand as if he’ll never get the chance to do so again. “feels good when you’re close…when you kiss me ‘n you use…shit, y-your t-tongue on me!” pleading turns to soggy, pathetic whimpers that are muffled by your tongue as you push your way back into denji’s mouth to shut him up.

you make denji feel like he’s going fucking insane, desire ripping through is chest, lewd squelching noises from his cock bleeding arousal all over your hand overlaying his soundtrack of moans and tongue lapping over tongues. opaque white slings around your knuckles as it drips from his creamy tip, only serving to guide your fist up and down his throbbing a little easier — as if it were a makeshift flesh light.

he really is so cute like this — pliant and needy underneath you, his body seizing up at your sensual ministrations and his skin shiny with sweat under the moonlight. the chainsaw devil can’t help but hiccup loudly despite how you pacify him with sweet, loving smooches. tears slip down the apples of his cheeks and track salt along your tongue too where they land at the corner of denji’s mouth. “you look so pretty with your cock in my hand,” praise for denji comes easily to you — he deserves to be cherished, to know that he’s good and loved. squeezing the base of his length, you push your thumb through his seedy slit just to see him cry, circling his bright red and mushroomed cockhead in order to lube him up more.

a pink flush blossoms across the expanse of his milky skin with every pump of his dick and his his head falls back against the wall with a dull thud. you lick your lips at the sight of his adam’s apple bobbing and his body shuddering, revealing to the naked eye just how desperate denji truly is.

“do you think you could cum for me, denji?”

the stutter in his hips tells you the answer, but you want a verbal one anyways — so for a moment, you stop palming his dripping wet cock and wait for his response.

“well?”

“please, i can do it,” he pants, eager to please — his honey brown eyes crazed and delirious. “j-just call me pretty again. ‘nd i promise i’ll—“

even with his back pressed right up against the wall and his shoulders quivering in anticipation of his impending high — denji still towers over you. so you stand on your tippy toes, languidly flicking your wrist to get him off, in order to whisper your command into the shell of his ear. “make a mess for me, pretty boy.” you simper, mouth falling open to mock his moans like you’re right on the edge with him.

denji cums with a shout and his release spills into your spoiled palm like a stream of molten igneous rock, painting your knuckles a gooey white. you have to cover his mouth with your remaining hand, muffling any sounds that escape him since his brain quite literally short circuits, reducing the poor blonde to nothing but tears and brainless babbles.

you do your best to keep him quiet while he twitches through the aftershocks — after all, it would be a shame if some else got to see your pretty boy blushing with his cock out.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[lelengerine]

pairing. jeno x reader

synopsis. based on this req!

genre. not so confession au, just jeno getting his world shaken hehe, reader uses she/her prns and is implied to be female, reader is DENSE and im putting that lightly... lmk if anything was missed :D

wc. 1.4k

notes. anonie i support u fully because THIS IS SOOO HIM >< highly recommend listening to crazier by le sserafim for this one! sorry it took a while TT i was trying to see if my tags would fix but sadly that isnt the case... likes and feedback are highly appreciated!

m.list

you’ve always been jeno’s constant, his best friend, the person he shares his dumbest jokes with, the person who never fails to laugh when he falls out of the race track at mario kart, the person who knows when to cheer him up without him needing to say much. there was always an ease between you that others would envy, the kind of closeness that lets you steal fries off his plate without thinking twice or crash on his couch for hours without either of you caring. 

that’s just how your friendship was.

at least, he needs to keep reminding himself that was how it was between you two because his thoughts were beginning to steer in the opposite direction. lately he had become hyper aware of your presence, noticing the way the bridge of your nose would crinkle ever so slightly when you smile, how you completely disregard his personal space to sit beside him closely, and even your reliance on him when you can’t seem to twist the lid of a particularly stubborn jar off. it was always the subtlest of things that lingered in the back of his mind, and he couldn’t pinpoint why. 

though, it seems like his friends were more than aware of the answer he was searching for from the way they were teasing him during one of your spontaneous meetups in his dorm.

you and jeno sat side by side on the couch, surrounded by the familiar chaos of his friends. chenle and jisung, as usual, had been locked in a heated game for the past hour, their playful bickering filling the room. across from you, renjun and jaemin watch the scene unfold in their usual, quiet way, content to simply observe. you’re half-tuned into whatever conversation was floating in the air, mindlessly scrolling through your phone—with the occasional nudge to jeno’s shoulder, sharing a meme or video that made you snort on the inside, the casual, easy comfort between you both flowing naturally amidst the background noise.

haechan who was lounging lazily on the opposite end of the couch, passes jeno a look—a sly, knowing smirk that immediately puts the latter on edge. there’s always a hint of mischief behind haechan’s smile, but for some reason, it felt even more suspicious today.

“so,” haechan begins, stretching the word out, eyes never leaving jeno. he leans forward slightly, as if settling in for something big. “what’s been up with you lately, man?”

jeno raises an eyebrow, confused but wary. “what are you talking about?”

“oh, you know…” haechan waves a hand in the air, his smirk widening into something too smug for comfort. “you’ve just been acting a little… different.”

“different how?” you chime in with sudden interest. “did he start doing something weird?”

“not weird, just... off.” jaemin continues the bait haechan’s laid out, the innocent smile plastered on his lips testing jeno’s patience to not go over and close his mouth shut before it starts spewing nonsense.

“off?” jisung perks up from the floor, focus starting to shift away from the large screen in the room. “what do you mean by off?”

“oh, he’s definitely been weird for weeks now,” chenle adds, jumping into the conversation with a grin, catching onto his friends’ intentions fairly quicker than others.

jeno shifts uncomfortably, feeling the weight of everyone’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t forget to shoot chenle a glare after joining the rest and their sudden urge for mischief. “i’m not weird. you guys are just being paranoid.”

“nah, you’ve definitely been jittery. more than usual.”

“yeah, i noticed it too.”

“jittery?” you ask, your confusion deepening, causing your forehead to form subtle creases. “why would he be jittery?”

before jeno can respond, chenle cheekily cuts in after pretending to ponder on his thoughts. “i don’t know, maybe something’s been distracting him.”

haechan snorts, clearly enjoying the whole spectacle a bit too much. “yeah, pretty distracted, don’t you think?”

you frown, gaze drifting towards your best friend. “is he losing sleep over video games again?”

chenle bursts into laughter, occasionally hitting jisung by the shoulder. “oh yeah, totally video games,” he teases, the sarcasm thick in his voice for anyone to pick up on. “he’s definitely been staying up all night thinking about those.”

"shut up," jeno mumbles, his ears burning as the heat creeps up his neck, trying to fend off the rising embarrassment. with every pair of eyes in the room glued to him, the pointed stares and teasing smirks are becoming impossible to ignore.

"this is so weird," you mumble, glancing between the boys. the playful tension crackles in the air, but you're completely clueless, unable to grasp what was so funny or why they were all being so persistent today.

mark, who’s been quietly observing from the kitchen, finally steps in after the conversation piques his interest. “maybe it’s a girl,” he waves the gentle suggestion in the air, and despite his tone being casual, you easily could tell he was just as in on it as the rest were.

the room falls into a brief, stunned silence. the first of the night.

you choke on your own breath, turning sharply to jeno, feeling a bit betrayed that he’d kept this from you. “jen, you have a crush and didn’t tell me anything?”

jeno’s brain goes into overdrive, panic flooding his chest from the thought of you getting the wrong idea. “no! what are you even talking about?” he sputters, flustered beyond belief. 

as if there weren’t already enough misunderstandings, haechan dramatically nods, paying no heed to jeno’s frantic denial. “oh right, he’s been losing sleep over someone. the poor guy’s probably been agonizing over it.”

jeno’s pulse races, the teasing voices of his friends blending into a chaotic blur. he couldn’t explain it, not when he doesn’t fully understand it himself, but his mind immediately thinks of you. the way his stomach twists when you’re around, how his heart picks up pace whenever you smile—that jittery feeling jaemin mentioned... it’s all starting to make sense in the worst possible way.

there’s a moment, as the others keep prodding and nudging at him, where it clicks. he’s always been comfortable around you, always enjoyed your company, but now—with their teasing pushing his thoughts into overdrive—it feels different. the way his heart seems to lurch every time your shoulder brushes his, how your laugh makes his chest bubble with a ticklish feeling he can’t explain, the way his thoughts keep drifting back to you even when you’re not around.

do i… like her?

the realization hits him like a freight train, and suddenly, all the pieces that were once scrambled come together one by one. the teasing, the jokes, the way he’s been acting lately—it all connects into one perfectly clear line. he’s fallen, and he didn’t even realize it, and now, with every single person in the room staring at him, he feels like the biggest idiot on the planet for not seeing it sooner.

“i don’t…” jeno starts, his voice low, struggling to find the right words as they stick to his throat. his gaze flickers to you, sitting there still utterly confused by the entire conversation.

“oh my god, jeno’s speechless,” jisung deadpans, eyes wide in slight surprise. “this might be the first time in history.”

“must be serious,” haechan chimes in and from what you could tell, there’s no ounce of worry in his tone. instead, the boy is grinning widely, like a cat who’s caught the canary.

jeno can’t find it in himself to respond, the load of the realization still sinking in, heavy and overwhelming. even jaemin, who’s usually more subtle, can’t help but throw in a quick, “just admit it, jeno. we all know.”

you huff, still frustrated and completely lost. “am i seriously the only one not getting what’s going on here?”

“sadly, yes.” haechan confirms with a muffled snicker from his end, leaning back into the couch, enjoying this far too much.

jeno glances at you again, feeling his chest tighten. his head is spinning, his thoughts racing. you’re oblivious to all the teasing, still in the dark about what’s really happening, and maybe that’s for the best. maybe it’s easier if you don’t know—at least, not yet.

“i… i need to get some air,” jeno announces abruptly, standing up from the couch and bolting for the door before anyone can stop him.

“...should we go after him?” you propose, biting your lip out of nervousness, not having seen jeno act this way in all the years the two of you had known each other.

“just let him be for now.” chenle pats your shoulder out of genuine consolation, “he’ll find his way back to you.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sfw masterlist (contains no smut but may still have mature themes, please heed any warnings!)

a place we could escape sometime words: 2k

rafe being an aggressive lover headcanons words: 800

before dinner words: 350

birthday morning words: 300

crybaby words: 400

drunk words: 700

fruit stand words: 1.2k

hoodie words: 1.1k

jealous words: 200

just friends words: 3.1k

legacy words: 4k

locked in words: 1.7k

m.i.a. words: 900

office hours words: 1.4k

pretend words: 1k

redemption words: 1.2k

savior words: 500

t-ball words: 1k

nightmare words: 350

only a little jealous words: 700

apocolypse words: 3k

the very first night words: 700

reluctant friends to lovers words: 1.3k

second chance words: 800

how you get the girl words: 900

childhood friends to lovers words: 800

a collection of soft moments with rafe words: 2.4k

live like a kook words: 5.2k

sleepy reader request words: 700

just not home words: 1k

black eye words: 500

talk to me words: 800

party's over words: 1.1k

savior words: 1.1k

who did this to you? words: 1.4k

defending you words: 1.9k

silent treatment words: 900

broken words: 500

emergency words: 1.2k

grilled cheese words: 300

everybody wants him, that was my crime words: 2.1k

wisdom teeth words: 1.1k

bad dreams words: 400

kook princess words: 3.3k

dealbreaker words: 500

love tested words: 1.1k

stupid baby words: 600

orange peel theory words: 1k

grumpy words: 400

i am a rich man words: 1k

girliest girly girl words: 800

destruction words: 1.5k

little protector words: 800

good boys words: 1.5k

tatted words: 1k

girls night guardian words: 1.3k

safe words: 1.1k

the pogues and the princess words: 1.8k

gamers words: 800

the compound part one words: 2k part two words: 2.6k

pink unicorn words: 600

chew toy words: 600

babys first flight words: 1.3k

vodka red bull words: 300

sanctuary words: 900

just add water words: 5k

babysit words: 300

w for wheezie words: 1.5k

out for a run words: 900

keeping secrets social media au

pizza night words: 2.2k

tee time words: 1.5k

deliveries words: 1.2k

separate lines words: 600

followed (part one) words: 1.2k accused (part two) words: 1k

in sickness and in health words: 1k

your friendly neighborhood spiderman words: 3k

finding freedom words: 4.2k

sunny words: 500

vip section words: 400

wax words: 400

yoga words: 1.2k

first moments words: 1.5k

hormonal hunch words: 800

tracked words: 1.5k

eventually words: 700

favorite girl to see words: 700

healing touch words: 700

range words: 700

never truly gone words: 2k

bodyguard words: 2.1k

over the clouds words: 1k

slap words: 1k

escape from isla nublar words: 2.6k

crash words: 2k

gone wrong words: 500

gold ring words: 1.3k

5 acts words: 2k

[milf-murdock]

The Scare: Part II

A/N: Y'all this is filthyyyyyyy. Absolutely fucking disgusting and I cannot get enough of it omg. I think I blacked out while writing this.

Check out Part 1 here

Warnings: Dark!Simon AU, breeding kink, pregnancy mentions, baby trapping, creepy behavior, red flags (dreamy), and if there's anything else I need to tag just let me know!

Putting the read more right at top because babes we are just jumping right into it ;,)

Simon is legendary when it comes to details. Nothing gets past this man. Especially, when he’s on a mission. And right now? Simon was a man on a mission. 

“Fuck babe,” he grunted as he pressed your legs even farther back, your knees nearly to your ears. “So fuckin’ tight.” His thrusts were deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. 

You were beyond response. Not only had he made you come on his fingers while he sucked on that pretty little clit, but he’d made sure to put a couple pillows underneath you, propping up your hips for him, opening yourself to a new angle that had you seeing fucking stars. All you could do was moan and gasp as Simon gripped your hips and drove his cock into you at a relentless pace. 

He had seen this position online, when he was conducting his late-night research on a private, completely locked-down browser, searching up the best ways to get you pregnant. 

___

He knew that he needed to lock you down, to ensure that there was no way you were going anywhere. He wanted you all to himself. And he wanted everyone to know just who you fucking belonged to. 

You’d be the prettiest mum, Simon thought to himself as he scrolled through the online articles, absentmindedly stroking his cock. You were fast asleep in the next room, and he was so thankful. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, round with his baby, heavy breasts, your supple curves growing even more. His fist moved faster, sliding over his thick cock, pulling back the skin to tease the bright red head. If he got you pregnant now, you’d be due just at the end of summer. The thought of you in one of your gorgeous sundresses, heavily and adorably pregnant with his baby, was enough to send him over the edge, hips rutting up into his hand. He tried to conceal his groan as the hot spurts of come landed on his bare chest. 

___

Simon is phenomenal when it comes to details. Which is how he has your cycle fucking memorized. Which is why he has you spread on your bed, legs in the air, pounding into you with everything he has. 

He knows this is your ovulation window. Sure, he had made sure to fill you up yesterday, and he’ll make damn sure to fill you up tomorrow, too, just to be safe. But today? Today was when you were most fertile. He knows, because he’s been secretly tracking your ovulation, taking your temperature while you sleep to make the most accurate prediction. He had been so disappointed to see that negative test last month. His hopes had been so high when he saw that you were late. Only to be dashed the next morning when your period had started. He coddled you through it, of course, bringing you medicine, hot tea, heating pad, endless snuggles. But the whole time, he was planning how this month would be different. 

He’d knock you up if it was the last thing he fucking did. 

___

“Such a good girl, taking my fuckin’ cock,” Simon groaned, pulling back his hips, all the way so just the tip rested inside you. 

“I can’t—it’s too,” you sputter, absolutely cock drunk. 

“Ah, but you can, love,” Simon smirked to himself as he thrusted deep into your weeping pussy, all the way to the hilt. He reveled in the way you screamed in pleasure. He continued the pattern: pulling out, thrusting in, picking up the pace. His heavy balls bounced off your ass as his pace picked up. You were getting close, he could tell, your body starting to stiffen, your cries getting louder. He used his broad hands to grab your hips and hold you steady as he hammered into you, relentless in his pursuit. 

“Gonna come for me, dove?” He teased, his voice deep and earnest, filled with lust. He needed you to finish. He’d read an old wives tale saying the seed was more likely to take root when the mother finishes. The thought alone nearly had Simon coming right then and there. Your shaky voice brought him back to reality. “Yes, uh huh, don’t forget—“ you screamed as he thrusted in you particularly hard. “Pull out,” you mumbled, hazy in the oncoming fog of your orgasm. “Fuck Simon, fuck, fuck FUCK,” you screamed as your orgasm overtook you.

Simon watched as your eyes rolled back into your head and your back arched off the gentle stack of pillows, pushing your breasts forward. Simon couldn’t help the mental image that popped into his head: you, swollen with his child, those same breasts full of milk, ready to nourish your child, his child. Everyone would know how he had pleased you, claimed you, made you his. 

Simon’s hips stuttered as he came, a resounding growl of pleasure escaping his lips as he slammed into your cunt a final time. His seed flooded your cervix, filling you with a warmth you were too blissed out to recognize. Ropes and ropes of his spend filled you,  his cock twitching inside you, as Simon pressed his face against your chest, breathing heavily. 

“Fuckin hell, love,” he moaned. “Gonna be the fucking death of me.” 

He slid his softening cock out of you, careful to use his fingers to scoop any escaping seed back into your aching cunt. He silently tutted to himself. We can’t be having that, now can we? 

[whoopsyeahokay]

Alphabet Soup

summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.

(AN: this'll be a multiple-oneshots deal—out of order—with regular additions until it's complete.)

🛎️prompt - Wally Clark NSFW alphabet.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. grey!Wally Clark. cheating. egregious use of the word 'baby'.

bon reading, frens

___________________________🧿

Alphabet Soup - C

C is for Wally's competency and control on and off the field. That single-minded focus that he puts toward the task at hand. He's not a show-off, doesn't flaunt his skills unless the showmanship is called for—"And that's another touchdown assisted by 57!"—you know, those times when the crowd is chanting his name and Coach is punching the air.

It may be hard to believe, but Wally dedicates a lot of time to learning about what interests him. Does the research, collects the tools, and works himself hard until he has it mastered before he shares what he's capable of with others.

This dedication earned him employee of the month at Reggie's Auto Repair several months in a row; big hands making quick, greasy work of mistreated car parts. It's how he helped his grandfather remodel his mama's kitchen; expertly cutting pieces of wood for new cabinets; drilling in the finished product; smearing mud on the wall to set the new backsplash his mother swooned over at Home Depot.

Point is, Wally's gets really fucking good at whatever he puts his mind to. And, these days his mind is almost exclusively occupied by you. A cyclical kaleidoscope of things he's learned about you on auto-play from the moment he wakes up to the moment he passes out.

He wants to learn more—everything—about you. Your favorite food, color, season, show; your stupid star sign, fuck, e v e r y t h i n g. And he will. Because that's what Wally does. He absorbs facts like a sponge and sticks them in his arsenal to use when he needs to.

Wally wields his knowledge like a weapon in the bedroom, noting every sound you make as he tests the waters. He's draped over you, propped up on an elbow, watching your face for clues as his hand tracks down down down your side to your hip to your thigh. Squeezes hard enough to leave prints and lifts your leg to hook is around his waist.

"You want me, baby?" He asks, grinding against you, your skin and his wet with too much black cherry lube. His breathing is ragged, voice strained, hips a maddeningly slow back-and-forth as he teases those sounds out of you. "Want me inside you?"

He dips in, brushes his lips over yours once, tickle-soft, before truly pressing in with teeth and tongue. The kiss is dirty, hard, deep, but the roll of his hips remains at that too-slow pace.

"Want me to make you feel good, baby?" He pinches your nipple between thumb and index. He smirks, proud and so fucking turned on, when you grab him by his necklace and drag him into another kiss.

It's all he needs to convince him to stop teasing, line himself up, and rock into you with one hard thrust. Your mouth falls open, eyes squeezed shut, expression open and pink and so fucking beautiful it takes everything in Wally not to bust a nut right then and there. You've done quickies in the locker room, fast ones in the car, and as hot as all that is, Wally wants to see what you look like when he fucks you slow.

He can last for a while. Has made a fucking point to learn how to prolong his own pleasure so he can give you yours and he isn't going to consider coming until you're a mess beneath him. Sobbing and begging and needy for him to fill you up. And you will be. Because he's learned, hasn't he?

Reaching under the pillow beside you, he pulls out something he's been aching to play with. He shifts, up and back, sitting on his haunches as he turns you onto your side. You make such a pretty picture, hair fanned out, eyes glazed, lips bitten pink and pouty.

"Gonna be a good girl for me?" Wally presses the button. The wand starts to vibrate, low at first and then harder as he adjusts it. "Gonna let me play with you?"

Before you can respond, Wally places the head of the toy against your clit at the same time he rams into you. A choked-off moan, head thrown back, fingers clawing Wally's chest, arms, hips.

"That's it baby," He coos, rolling his hips, in and out, cock grazing every nerve-ending inside you, fat tip hitting your g-spot on every upstroke. "That's it, fuck, you're so hot, baby," Wally groans and he can't look away, has to watch you tremble apart over and over as you convulse around him.

Minutes later, "You're gonna make me come," he warns, listening to your mewls and moans and pleas for mercy, too much, please, Wally, I can't please please please, I can't.

And it's blinding; a long, flushed, thunderous feeling when Wally comes inside you, grinning like an idiot because he's learned more about your threshold for pleasure-pain and plans to use that knowledge over and over again, until you can't think of anything else but how good Wally makes you feel.

🧿___________________________

also available on AO3!

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

[romirola]

The Prince Shifter: A Redactedverse/Princess Bride AU (1/22)

Read the Prologue of The Prince Shifter on AO3 here!

Summary: To help Caleum wait out his first experience with Magical Depletion Syndrome, Gavin offers to read him a very special book, The Prince Shifter, a tale of fencing, fighting, torture, revenge, shifters, stealths, vampires, chases, escapes, true love, and miracles!

When Alexis, Princess of Dahlia, selects commoner shifter David Shaw to be her husband, his whole world is turned upside down. Wasn’t it bad enough that his mate, Angel, was lost at sea? To make matters worse, just as David resigns to his miserable fate to marry the royal vampire, a pack of three kidnap him and his cousin. But they’re no regular kidnappers: Asher is overcoming a traumatic past, Milo is devoted to tracking down his mother’s murderer for revenge, and Sweetheart is carrying a grave secret about Dahlia's political stability. Meanwhile, a mysterious, masked stranger complicates the kidnapping and "rightfully steals" away David. Before long, everyone finds themselves in the middle of a daring adventure as they put the bonds of their love to the ultimate test.

As always, any and all feedback is welcome and cherished. Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoy!

More details under the cut!

Rating: T; WC: ~40K words across 22 chapters.

Characters: David, Angel, Asher, Babe, Milo, Sweetheart, Alexis, Quinn, Gavin, Freelancer, Caelum, Sam, Darling, Damien, Huxley, Lasko, Avior, Kody, Blake, Adam, Avior, Porter, Vincent, William, Marie, Gregory Keaton, Brachium, Morgan

Pairings: Angel/David, Asher/Babe, Milo/Sweetheart, Damien/Huxley, Sam/Darling, Freelancer/Gavin

Tags: AU, Fairytale, Romance, Love, Mate Bond, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Suspense, Adventure, Fluff, Friendship, Humor, Banter, Trust, Revenge, Duels, Torture, Escapes, Chases, Kidnapping, Nonconsensual Trancing, Rescues, Found Family, Bravery, Grief, Miracles, Healing Magic, Hope, Happy Ending, True Love, Framing Narrative, Adult Language, All Listener Characters are Gender-Neutral, Pack Feels

This story should come as no surprise to anyone. The Princess Bride is one of my favorite films. I adore all things Redactedverse. It was only a matter of time. For longer than I’d like to admit, I’ve been thinking about how to blend these two wonderful pieces. I humbly offer you, dear reader, the product of those thoughts.

Shoutout to @userkatekane for graciously creating art to accompany this story, which will be linked for each chapter. Follow them for amazing art!

Shoutout to @us3rnam3-r3dact3d for being so very supportive as I drafted the fic and suggesting the use of the Dread Pirate Keaton. Follow him for more fun Redacted content!

Shoutout to William Goldman for writing the film that inspired this fic!

Taglist: Empty. Would you like to be tagged in updates to this story? Please let me know!

[tracklessreason]

Hive Prime AU. Anyways...

Ratchet's turn!

So Ratchet has been a little obsessive over the changes to Bumblebee's frame since he became a Prime. He wasn't there to study Optimus when he first obtained the Matrix, so this has been a pretty big medical opportunity for Ratchet. He's run a lot of tests and compared the data to Optimus' vitals to track differences in how they handle the energy of the Primes.

Something is wrong though. Hive's vitals...they aren't normal. There's fluctuations in his EMF field comparable to a very sick bot, his T-cog shows signs of damage you would expect in a mech several times his age.

Ratchet doesn't know if he should say something. He has no basis of knowledge for if this is normal wear and tear of being a new Prime, or if he should be seriously worried about Hive. He would talk with Optimus, but despite efforts to hide it, it's pretty obvious that Hive Prime is still fully aware of what happens when other Primes have control of his frame. Ratchet doesn't want to tell him yet, not until he's sure...

Please ask me about Hive Prime AU. I will literally tell you anything.

[steviestits]

In The Family Way - Part 3.2

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic's masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Argyle/Jonathan Rating: T Summary: The Munson family has never had the typical values that most modern Americans have as they find thrill in all that's mysterious and spooky. Steve Harrington, a black widow omega, hadn't known this when he mated with the family's eldest alpha, Eddie, and thought that he'd be another easy mark that he could kill to inherit the millions that Eddie owned. However, not only do all his murder attempts fail, but Eddie actually enjoys them! And to make matters worse, the alpha wants to try for a pup! Steve has to find a way to off Eddie for good, before he gets pregnant and maybe actually falls for the death-crazed alpha. (Addams Family Values au set in the Omegaverse after the events of the movie with Steve as Debbie and Eddie as Fester) Trigger Warning: Attempted Murder as a love language, Mpreg

(Link to previous part)

As time went on, however, Eddie noticed that Steve’s heats never came, and Eddie never felt even remotely close to going into a rut. If they were unmated, there wouldn’t be any correlation, allowing Eddie to go into one as his primal instincts searched for an omega to breed. Since they were mated, the alpha in him would only allow his omega to bear his pups, so him not feeling an oncoming rut, meant that his omega wasn’t getting close to his heat.

Worry slowly set into Eddie that something was wrong. The reason Steve’s absent heat could’ve been because he was already pregnant, except all the tests Steve took came back negative. Eddie kept reminding himself that all omegas were different, but the alpha in him couldn’t help fretting over his omega. What if he was sick and needed medical attention? Wouldn’t he be a bad alpha if he didn’t get the utmost care for his omega, and get that care promptly?

The war between giving Steve his privacy and checking on the omega waged inside Eddie’s mind until he reached his breaking point. They weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary as it had become their routine to wake up in the morning then grab a pregnancy test to see if one of their previous attempts had taken. It had become something didn’t even have to discuss anymore, with this simply becoming a part of their routine.

There was one difference today, though. Steve typically waited in the bathroom, but now he sat with Eddie in the living room. He nervously tapped a lighter against his forearm. Neither of them smoked, at least not cigarettes, and Steve’s lighter had been used more often to help light Eddie himself aflame than anything else. In fact, Eddie could see a glint in Steve’s eyes that he was planning to torch the alpha at any second now.

“Maybe we should stop,” Steve said suddenly. “Stop taking these tests. They’re never positive, so this is just a waste of fifteen minutes of our time. We could get to fucking a lot sooner if we stopped checking for something that wasn’t going to happen.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed in concern. “Why isn’t it going to happen? You never know, my pet. We could get lucky.”

“Because I know,” the omega snapped.

Hearing the absolute certainty in Steve’s voice made Eddie feel more concerned for the omega instead of backing off as the threat clearly stated. The alpha inside him stirred with restless energy, knowing something was wrong with his omega. It was then that Eddie couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer. He needed to know what was the matter with Steve.

“I’ve noticed you haven’t had your heat yet,” Eddie said, biting his lip as he cautiously brought up the sensitive topic. “You should’ve gotten it by now.”

The omega bared his teeth. “Have you been tracking it? How do you know that I should’ve had it by now? I told you it was sporadic. Don’t you believe me?”

“I do. Well, I want to, but...” Taking a deep breath, he continued. “But I can’t help but feel concern for you. I’m worried that something is wrong. While I love pain, I never wish to see you in any that hasn’t been caused in the throes of passion.”

Steve started, and the lighter slipped then fell to the floor. Sparking, the lighter set the rug beneath the omega’s feet alight. Eddie’s body moved on its own, and he smothered the flames with his hands, not caring that his hands were burned. He actually liked it, especially because it was done in the name to save his omega.

“Eddie...” Steve sighed, and he took the alpha’s hands into his own, inspecting the burns. “Why do you care so much about me?”

“Because you chose me to be your mate,” the alpha answered easily. “You’re as beautiful as deadly nightshade. You could’ve had any alpha you wanted, but instead, you chose me. I, of course, am obligated, to worship the ground you walk on.”

The omega’s gaze remained steadily focused on Eddie’s hands as he all but whispered, “But what if I was defective? Broken? What then?”

“Never, my pet. I would never think that you were broken or defective. You’re the most perfect creature that I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“But what if I am? You know that I’ve been mated two times previously-”

“And both of those alphas were weak and undeserving. What alpha is killed in a simple car accident? Why, me and Argyle used to play in traffic all the time when we were children. They were the broken ones, not you. Never you.”

Lip quivering, and eyes watering, Steve glanced up at Eddie finally. Eddie could see the disbelief in his gaze, but also the hope. He remembered the slide show presentation that Steve had put on for them as he prepared to kill them. The omega had been tossed aside by all the alphas in his life, which was what lead to each of their untimely demises. Maybe Steve hadn’t realized that Eddie remembered that day, and that he truly didn’t care that he was a murderess.

“I can’t have pups,” Steve confessed suddenly with tears streaming down his cheeks. “At least, I don’t think I can. I’ve been on suppressants since I first presented. My parents didn’t like that I presented as an omega. But even after I killed them, I continued to take them.”

Eddie wrapped his burnt hands around Steve’s, ignoring the exciting sting of pain he felt from the touch in order to comfort his omega. Steve sniffled, so Eddie used his thumb to help him wipe away the tears that were falling. The sweet, murderous omega was much more than Eddie deserved in a mate, yet he couldn’t help want to hold onto Steve more, wrap his being around the omega until he had him completely to himself.

“It’s alright, my pet. Hopes not lost. Even if it’s true that you can’t bear pups, which I don’t think it is, here’s an old family recipe that Grandmama Joyce knows. It could help.”

“And if it doesn’t? What if it doesn’t work?”

“Then I’ll keep loving you and looking forward to your every vile attempt at my life for as long as you let me live.”

“You swear it?”

“I give you the word of a Munson that nothing in this world or the next could stop me from loving you as my mate.”

The omega looked away then nodded stiffly, showing that he understood. More tears were streaming down Steve’s face, so Eddie did the only thing he could do. He sat next to Steve on the couch and pulled him into a tight embrace, stroking Steve’s hair while whispering soothing words to him. For once, Steve didn’t resist and allowed Eddie to hold him as an alpha would hold their mate, with as much love and care that the alpha could give.

Part 3.1 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 3.3 (Coming Soon-ish)

A/N: Going to let them have sex on last time after this then end the chapter, so stay tuned for sweet, fluffy sex in the next part.

[kel-lance]

Team Bonding: JJK students x reader x sukuna Part 1

- TW: Dead dove dont read (DDDR) Minors do not interact (MDNI): SA, Physical Assault, DubCon, NonCon, Mindbreak, Public Humiliation, Multiple manipulation, RWORD, PTSD, a lot more.

- Premise: Characters are (18+) (Reader is 21) Jujutsu College au where things are the same but they found yuuji/He ate the finger at 18/+ the start of college.

- Yuuji “came back” after two months of “being dead” and you’re in charge of the training for today for the kyoto sister event.

- Sukuna switches with yuuji in this and chaos ensues :/

Edit: I reread this a month later and guys oh my god. i wrote these time patches of time, right after hitting the rig, and then blacking out after a few paragraphs im sorry ill actually write this time.

You were coming back from a mission that took about 2 weeks due to traveling and tracking down a spirit as the higher ups were testing your Light Manipulation. You know it was hard for everyone the death of one of the freshmen, now you look after Nobara with Megumi. 

You’re the only 3rd year and they all knew you loved your pride. Something about being the “oldest” (since the seniors are all granted weekly missions.), the authority that just made looking up at them, was just an excuse to point your nose up high, and only got depressed for a /day/ when you found out Kamo was 5 days older than you. 

You’re like an older sister or mom to them, with a few exceptions. The days were leading up to the Kyoto sisterhood school match, while everyone was meeting up to train, Gojo introduces Yuuji back to everyone. 

You’re all shocked to say the least. Gojo was acting normally the whole time, that bastard. “(Y/n)’s in charge of sparring today. I’ll come back later with Shoko in case Yuta’s too tired.” He teased at his baby cousin before he left. He was probably referencing to take it easy pn yuta, he probably beat his ass showing him a new technique.  

You ignored him yet again and started to pair everyone up. “Nobara and Yuta, Panda and Maki, Toge and Megumi,” leaving you with Yuuji. “We’ll take it slow zombie.” 

- Into the match you cursed, “Shit- he’s so durable.” But you loved that. You threw yourself back and used your fingers to catch and push yourself away from Yuuji’s next punch. “He’s a close range fighter, too.” You feel like you found your match in terms of adaptability. 

You fix your stance, both legs balances one in front of the other, knees bend, your body lowers and fingers and knees bent, ready at any time to change from offense to defense. You find his eyes again and don’t dare break contact as he’s fast. Faster than you, a blink could be worse than a misstep.

This was new as you always held yourself back from seriously harming your classmates. That pride doesn’t come from nowhere. Your favorite sparring partner is Todo, because he can get close and handle/not hold back punches. 

It felt like you were getting beaten with respect, not like what I want to do to my underclassmen. What good would they learn from losing a time from sitting in the infirmary so often? But this was different.

You felt like you were fighting Maki on drugs, or with cursed energy, and was face to face to Yuuji, as he pinned you down. He was almost like Todo, but you couldn’t read him since you just met.

“Where’s your pride now?” He had enough of your poking and prodding. No warm welcome, not even a nice reaction from his friends. But he knew it was serious to you, so out of respect, he’ll follow suite. He’ll show off what he learned in his training with Gojo. 

“Shut up Cannibal Corpse.” You teased back, smashing your forehead into the T of his face, hoping he’d be able to take it. 

He backs and stands up, hand covering his face. He stopped in a way to let you know he needed a second. Blood coming from his nose? Or his mouth?

“Oh shit, are you okay?” You stand up too, turning to yell for your medic. “Yuu-“ You’re thrown back by the scruff of your collar landing on your shoulder, butt and hands, scratching them. 

“Woah, dude, look I’m sorry,” You huff, rubbing your scraped skin as you slowly stood again. “I thought you could handle it.” You tried to ease the tension, coming close to him to see if he was alright.

He doesn’t look at you, but you feel an energy forming around him. You didn’t know what this could be, his cursed energy? Why does it feel so suffocating? 

“(Y/N)!” Megumi tries to get his shikigami to get you out of his proximity but they were slaughtered in a a blink of an eye. 

“What the hell was going on, where is the enemy?” You quickly looked up and down, about to grab Yuuji and run. 

But your face was cupped so hard your chin could’ve snapped. Pinkie was looking down at you with cold eyes. Why were you letting this happen? You were in charge, you’re the oldest. You don’t resist but give a look of what the fuck back to him. 

“Sukuna! Let her Go!” Megumi screamed. The other students semi surrounding you both.

“She’s so fun, though.” Yuuji cocks a smile, your brain still trying to make sense of what’s happening and who was really in danger here. You glare harder at him, knowing if you struggled, he would like it, and that it was cause you more pain. You couldn’t freak them out anymore, you’ve gotta get this under control. 

“Tell you what, since /I’m/ the oldest,” He gave your cheeks a squeeze. “I’ll take over this bonding sparring whatever ur stupid sensei said. Putting a woman in charge… ha! I’ll show you a type of bond you all can share.”

He tears off the front of your shirt, holding your body closer, but you still say nothing but feel hate for him. Trying to humiliate you in front of your classmates, like you’re not in your sports bra most of the time. It didn’t bother you that you were semi exposed, you knew you looked good, but what was the reason?

Everyone started to yell and tell him to stop, ignoring the embarrassing sight Sukuna tried to use. Of course they didn’t care about your body, they had to figure out a way to separate you both carefully. You turn to face your classmates.

“It’s okay guys, if he wanted me dead he would’ve killed me by now.” You shoot your eyes back and look glare into Sukuna’s eyes, not the same bright, round eyes you first saw before anything else. You look harder.

“Yuuji’s still in there somewhere.”

Sukuna laughs. “You guys misunderstand. I said I’m in charge,” His other arm that was holding your torso back starts to move down the curve of your body, stopping at your outer thigh and squeezing roughly. “Todays lesson is, endurance. This one here,” He holds you up by your neck, as you’re trying to use your upper body strength up get higher, to get some air but his wrists alone are strong enough for him to pick u up easily. “will stomach all I will give her.” 

He brings you back down, coughing for air as licks a tear from your cheek. He reverts his eyes back to your helpless friends. “Your part now is to endure, all the way til the end, then my game can start.” 

You honestly couldn’t care what he was talking about, you could take whatever ridiculous match he has set up but to involve your mates? it wasn’t a sense of pride anymore but of respect of your friends. You just met this prick, the only thing stopping you from beating his ass to hell is that you saw their reaction about his supposed death. You didn’t want to be the real reason this time, well could you?

If worse comes to worst, you should be fine. You could take a beating, you had no problem being fought by a special grade curses and even showing off before Gojo gets here. Once you get out of his grip you can get everyone to attack. You’re the only thing in the way though you wouldn’t mind being taken with him if it comes to it. how heroic would that date be.

“Interrupt at all, even think about it, and I will end them, you, then anyone else I can find after.” He says to no-one. The parasite everyone was so on edge about needed a moment to breathe?

He huffs for a second, you thought there was a light in his eyes as he tried to let you go. You soften your look when- “Ah ah ah.” Sukuna takes over again, pinning you back to him, his other hand clapping around your neck. “I said I’d end them, and then you all.” He repeats to Yuuji. “Just shut up, watch, and then I’ll go away. It’s so boring being cooped up in this brat all day.” In all this, Yuuji’s trying to fight back? He can see this? Was anyone going to tell you what the fuck was going on. “Id rather be in this one instead.” 

You felt the energies around you shrink down, though, agitated. It seems they knew about what was happening to Yuuji and seeing them scared like this wasn’t really a good sign for you. They can get scared of course, but all of them? Together like this? This was not how you wanted to traumatize them, what would they learn other than powerlessness?

“Let go already, you’ll leave a mark on my neck.” You choked out. 

“You don’t have the brains to worry about that after I’m done with you.”

You roll your eyes at him earning a slap. You fell the ground shake and your friends winced at the sound. “Fuck-“ You shot up from the ground holding your steering hot cheek, right before he kicks you back down, leaving you sprawled and confused at the assault. 

You haven’t been hit like that in years. Tears weld up in your eyes and you choke on a memory that’s created this boastful monster.

Sukuna frowned, “I thought you were tougher than that. Maybe this won’t be as fun as I thought. I knew I should’ve started with the short girl over there.” 

You spit at him. “Don’t touch her, I’ll fucking kill you.” You blink to clear your vision and suppress the overwhelming memory. You glare at him before finding Nobara’s eyes. If they were 2+ years younger than you, you’d joke that they’re just a kid, but Nobi, your new baby sister,Like hell you’d let anyone make her feel how you felt. She was tough like you, even tougher you thought, because of how different you were, but still ended up similar.

“Tell me have any of you tried her out yet?” 

You could only look out to see your friends gritting their teeth and weapons. Panda speaks up, “She’s our best fighter.” Hoping to lead away from this devious situation. You’ve already fought them all, and won. Is kuna trying to piss you off more? You ignore his assaults, the unfamiliar hands now controlling you. 

“That’s just perfect.” He pulls your hips to connect to his, and your heart stops. You can feel it.

You actually freeze this time. Is he actually going to do it? You’d rather be beaten half to death or even to death, but how hard he was behind you, it birthed a black hole in your stomach. 

Your body goes limp, unconsciously submitting to him, your eyes fall, not being able to look at anyone else. Will he be quick, will they fight for me? Is this what he really wants? Or is this just the start? 

He picks you up and drops you to your knees painfully, still holding onto your collar. “Don’t try to run unless u want all their heads stringed together.” He says to you. 

Everyone else watches, clutching each other or their weapons tighter, trying to think of a way, when they can go in, or if they even see when Gojo was coming back . 

Grabbing your chin and lifting it up, he looks down at you and smacks you again. Your ear is on fire. The strike of his finger felt like a whip onto the side of your face. He hits you again, then again, and again. 

You huff, picking yourself up slowly each time. If you didn’t, he’d step on your fingers, almost trying to grind the bones inside. 

Sukuna raises his hand as you stare down and with this one, he sends you to the feet of Toge, Yuta, and Panda. 

They look down at you, mixed feelings of guilt, anger, sorrow,. You speak to them through swelling cheeks, “Don’t worry you guys, I’ll be even stronger after this. Get ready cause next tim-”

Sukuna comes by and grabs you by the hair, dragging you to back to your original spot, tears and blood now messing up your face. 

“You look so stupid right now.” He sneers. “You should see yourself.”  At this point you were exhausted from holding yourself back from beating the shit out of him. 

“Everyone,” He raises his voice for an announcement. “take your phones out and take a picture from your favorite parts of the lesson, okay?” 

He tilts your head towards his, takes out Yuuji’’s phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of you both. *click*

[befuddled-calico-whump]

Test Track AU (T$$ AU Masterlist)

previous // next

suggested by @brainrotlesbian (but with a twist!)

@theonewithallthefixations , @violets-whumperflies , @whump-me , @pirefyrelight , @soheavyaburden ,

@snakebites-and-ink , @whumpsday , @kixngiggles , @echo-goes-aaa , @whumpcateyes ,

@clickerflight , @sodacreampuff , @starfields08000 @suspicious-whumping-egg , @cryptidwritings ,

@painsandconfusion , @grizzlie70 , @bloodsweatandpotato , @ladyblogofficialreporter

@whumper-soot , @poeticagony , @lthrboy , )

[waterfrontcomplex]

CYCRANE KILLER - A YANQING SERIAL KILLER AU

TW/CW FOR MURDER, VIOLENCE, DISMEMBERMENT, GENERAL MENTAL INSTABILITY, MENTIONS OF ABUSE

AU INFO ↓

after the disastrous battle at dragonprayer terrace, yanqing is left disheartened, confused, and alone. he was just defeated by 2 criminals, and the one person he trusted with his whole being left him there with no explanation.

he gets healed at the alchemy commission, and returns home. jing yuan eventually recovers, and... everything returns to some sense of normalcy. no 'i'm sorry', no 'are you okay?', no nothing. he receives assignments as usual, and goes through with them with ease.

during an assignment in cloudford, he encounters a man who was on the run and had a warrant out for his arrest for domestic abuse. yanqing pursued the man until he accidentally cornered him with some particularly violent mara-struck, and was killed before he could stop them.

that night, he couldn't stop thinking about the man. he had let a civilian die. but... that man was a terrible person. he had a family that loved him, and he hurt them in return. yanqing felt an unexplainable burst of 'satisfaction' or even 'happiness'. that man would never hurt anybody again.

a terrible idea appeared in his head. what if he purposely killed people like those?

it's extremely illegal and goes against his duty as a cloud knight, but they would deserve it and he's just so, so frustrated. so, he looks into a couple cases and finds one he takes interest in. if he wants to go through with this, he can't use yanzhuo or his ice swords; it would make his identity too obvious. he grabs a blade he's been itching to test out, dons a cloak and leaves during the night.

the break-in and murder is easy enough. most people on the luofu stand no chance against him. adrenaline is rushing through his veins, and now there's a body on the floor and his dagger is covered in blood.

the cleanup is simple; he has the knowledge and resources available to make it look as if his target had just vanished during the night. he dismembers and disposes of the body and returns home. he had just killed another civilian... but they were a terrible person— no, they're not even a person. they're just vermin, unworthy of the title of 'human' and waiting to be eliminated. he feels static in his head.

in the following weeks, he does his best to avoid searching up information about his target. yanqing listens in to gossip instead, and gathers that they had been reported missing but no traces were found. he had gotten away with murder.

and he was going to do it again.

the next few nights, he claims more lives; lives of those unworthy of them. after the murders, the static in his head clears, but comes back later. they disappear during the night without a trace.

while disposing of a body, yanqing encounters a partially broken down cycrane with sentience, like his swords. he fixes it up, and it says it doesn't want to 'return to a mundane life of endless deliveries', so he takes it home and hides it. after a bit of searching, he gives it a name: rosebane.

the cases are starting to catch the attention of the higher-ups. the public now knows about the 'mysterious disappearances', and rumors start spreading like wildfire. some claim it's a monster, other say it's a stalker, and some are claiming that it's a whole group of people. nobody suspects him a bit. tensions are high.

yanqing doesn't want the public to worry too much. rumors of a monster could put the cloud knights on high alert. if he let any witnesses see him, they would know it was a human. and if he brings rosebane, they would know it's the same person, and not a group of people. rosebane wouldn't reveal anything about his real identity, and would be particularly useful for tracking down targets. a monster would be extremely concerning, but a person would be... hopefully less concerning. and with a cycrane, it would lead the investigators away from him.

during his next murder, he chooses a time where there would be a witness, and commits the crime, leaving the body. word gets out, and news of the 'cycrane killer' is everywhere. yanqing masks his nervousness as worry for jing yuan, but he doesn't fully buy it.

he's not crazy, he's not insane at all. he doesn't kill for the adrenaline rush, or to clear the static in his head, or for whatever other reason.

he's just... doing the luofu a favor.

☆⋆⋅───────

RELATIONSHIPS

YANQING -> ROSEBANE

friendly. they are extremely close, but can't talk much since yanqing shouldn't bring them out during the day. they're partners in crime, bound to their secret. he finds their sentience interesting.

YANQING -> JING YUAN

tense. yanqing partly blames jing yuan for his... new hobby. he still cares and would never hurt him on purpose, but he's extremely frustrated and confused. he mainly wants an explanation but feels as if he has no right to ask for one. yanqing also has to tread lightly around jing yuan to avoid him figuring out about his murders.

YANQING -> FU XUAN

cautious. if fu xuan suspects him of anything, she could easily rat him out with the matrix of prescience. he's been keeping his distance.

JING YUAN -> YANQING

worry. jing yuan knows yanqing's upset and has been acting strangely ever since he recovered. he also knows that his retainer is hiding something, but doesn't know what.

[bqstqnbruin]

Sidney Crosby Teacher AU

Anotha one

Teacher AU series

Warnings: Age gap (both are adults)

WC: 927

_______________

Pay attention. All he had to do was pay attention. He’s been at this for years, there was no reason why he shouldn’t be able to pay attention to the district’s lawyer talking about all the legal things they needed to know. It was the same thing that he went on about every single year, but it was still important to pay attention.

It all started going downhill when they walked in to the gym to find it set up for their professional development, but with assigned seating like they were younger than the students they taught. Admin said it was because they wanted to make sure all the departments were mixed together for ‘different perspectives,’ but if Sidney was being honest, he and the rest of the teachers sat with their departments because they liked each other. The history department didn’t particularly like some of the science department.

It was worse for Sidney when he realized that he was seated next to the one art teacher he shouldn’t be next to. Ivy was still in high school when he started teaching (not at the same school), and yet, there she was in all her zany glory that Sidney couldn’t stop thinking about. 

She was sitting so close to him, very clearly not paying attention to anything the lawyer was saying in front of them. She was on her computer, scrolling through Pinterest looking at what he was pretty sure were lesson ideas.

Ivy Reid was the exact opposite sort of teacher compared to Sidney. He had his lessons planned out down to the minute, something he prided himself on since so many other teachers said that it was impossible to do that. He had the entire unit planned out before they started it, knowing the test and quiz questions he would ask his students, who would do well and who would need more attention based on the content. He had to have everything in order so that he could keep track of every one of his students and what they needed to get the most out of his class. Everything had a place and everything was in its proper place so anyone could come into his classroom and know what to do.

Ivy, from what his students told him, was a teacher who did whatever she wanted. If her students wanted to do one project over another, she let them do it. They had what she referred to as ‘total artistic freedom’ in her class, and her grading them was based on their own self reflection. There was no right and wrong in her class, only satisfaction or disappointment in their own work. Even walking into her room, which he did once because he was told her classroom was the best space for a committee meeting, made him anxious. Nothing had a place, papers everywhere, art projects wherever they fit and could stand without falling on the floor. The chairs were covered in clay and paint, the tables sticky with glue or some other substance.

She was fascinating to him. 

Sidney let out a sigh, the lawyer still droning on about who knows what at this point. “Aren’t you supposed to listen to this?” he whispers to her.

Ivy looks up from her computer, a strand of hair from the bun messily tied on top of her head falling over her eyes. She blows it out of the way, shrugging. “We get the powerpoint after, anyway. Might as well use this time for something useful.” 

Sidney tried to keep his gaze fixed on the projector in front of him, not knowing what else to say. He kept glancing over at her, the overalls covered in paint, the t-shirt that showed off the tattoo on her upper arm that was technically against their handbook, the ripped sneakers a direct contrast to his pressed dress pants, crisp white dress shirt and a tie with a little bit of a pattern. 

He was mesmerized by her. 

The lawyer finishes the presentation, with a last minute, ‘and I’ll send the powerpoint to all of you this afternoon,’ when one of the assistant principals stands up and starts her tangent as to what they were going to be doing for the next half hour. Sidney couldn’t tune in before he heard the other teachers groaning and muttering under their breath, despite the smile on the AP’s face. 

“Looks like you’re my partner,” Ivy says, gesturing to the screen that has their names right next to each other.

“I have no idea what we’re doing,” he immediately admits, neither of them moving from their seats as everyone gets up and shuffles around. 

Ivy shrugs, letting out a short laugh that made Sidney squirm in his seat. “We’re just talking about what we did this summer.” Sidney nods. “I guess I’ll go first. I went down to DC for an art teachers institute for a week, read a lot, and broke up with my boyfriend, so you could finally ask me out.”

Sidney felt his eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?”

“Would you rather I ask you out?”

“What?” he repeats.

Ivy scoffs. “You obviously like me, and I’m not gonna lie and say I don’t like you.”

“You’re too young for me,” is the only argument he could come up with to object from something he didn’t fully comprehend how badly he wanted.

“Ten years is nothing when you’re both adults with fully developed frontal lobes.” Sidney sits there with his mouth hanging open. “So, what do you say?”

“Yes.”

[runariya]

Drive to Survive (JJK) • Chapter 2 “Nepotism”

pairing: F1driver!Jungkook x female race engineer!reader genre: colleagues2L, formula1!AU, racing!AU, drama, kind of fantasy/cyborg!AU fic rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: slight cursing, anger issues, Jungkook is a little sh!t word count: ~3.410

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. Content errors related to the sport of Formula 1 are not excluded. Please do not use this story as your own. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

🎵 Agust D, j-hope - HUH?! 🎵

01 • series masterlist • 03

Friday dawns clear and bright as you approach the gates of the Hockenheimring. The sky is a brilliant blue with no clouds in sight, with the early morning sun casting long shadows over the historic track. The Hockenheimring, with its rich history and legendary status in the world of Formula 1, is buzzing with action. Crews buzz around, setting up equipment, fine-tuning cars, and preparing for the race weekend ahead. The scent of freshly cut grass from the surrounding fields permeates the air. 

Excitement vibrates through every fibre of your being as you hand over your badge to the security guard. The moment should be routine, but his stern expression immediately gives you pause. 

"I'm sorry, miss, but this badge appears to be fake," the guard says, holding the badge up for closer inspection under the sunlight.

Your heart skips a beat. Just yesterday, you spent the entire day here, moving freely through the paddock and crossing paths with this very guard multiple times. "There must be a mistake. I'm with the Mercedes AMG Petronas F1 Team," you insist, striving to keep your voice calm and steady amid the rising panic.

"Sure you are," he replies, unimpressed and unyielding. "I've seen plenty of fakes. This one looks just like the rest."

Frustration wells up inside you, threatening to spill over. From the corner of your eye, you spot Jungkook walking by, his confident swagger unmistakable even at a distance. "Jungkook!" you call out, waving at him frantically, hoping for a lifeline. He glances your way but quickly looks away, continuing his stride without acknowledging you.

The guard shakes his head. "See? If you were really with the team, someone would have recognised you."

A wave of helplessness washes over you, and you mentally call Jungkook a few names. Before you can argue further, Joongki, George’s race engineer, walks by. Noticing the commotion, he heads over, his curiosity piqued.

"What's going on here?" Joongki asks, his brow furrowing in concern.

"This lady claims she's with the team, but her badge is fake," the guard explains, holding up your badge as if it were a piece of contraband.

Joongki looks at you, then back at the guard. "She's with us. Her name's on the team list. Let her through."

The guard reluctantly nods and hands your badge back. "Alright, you can go in."

"Thank you, Joongki," you say, relief washing over you as you take the badge.

"No problem," he replies, giving you a reassuring smile. "Come on, let's head to the meeting."

As you walk together through the bustling paddocks, the roar of engines being tested and the chatter of mechanics and engineers create a symphony of sounds that is uniquely Formula 1. The scent of high-octane fuel mixes with the aroma of fresh coffee from the nearby hospitality tents. 

Joongki strikes up a conversation. "So, how are you finding the job so far?"

"It's been incredible," you reply, genuinely enthusiastic. "I watched the simulation of Jungkook yesterday. His precision is remarkable."

Joongki nods. "He’s talented, no doubt about it. But he can be a handful."

You chuckle. "I’ve noticed. How do you manage George?"

"George is a professional, but he has his moments too," Joongki says with a wink. "It's all about balance."

You arrive at the Mercedes team area and enter the meeting room. Jungkook is already there, frowning as he notices you walking in with Joongki. His displeasure is clear, his gaze hardening.

Joongki heads to George, standing behind him, and you follow suit, taking your place behind Jungkook. The room is filled with a palpable sense of anticipation as everyone gathers around the large table, which is laden with snacks and drinks. A Keynote presentation projects blueprints, data sheets and strategy plans onto the wall behind Toto, a large part coming from you.

Toto begins the meeting, his authoritative voice filling the room. "Alright, everyone, let's get started. We have a lot to cover before the training session."

Jungkook turns slightly, pushing you forward. "Stand in front, dwarf," he mutters under his breath.

You frown up at him, clearly displeased with the insult, but comply, stepping in front of him. As Toto goes over the strategy, you feel a tug on your hair. You swat Jungkook’s hand away, trying to focus on the meeting.

"Stop it," you whisper, irritation seeping into your voice.

But Jungkook doesn't stop. He continues to toy with your hair, and after the second time you push his hand away, he still doesn’t seem to get the message. You sigh in resignation, deciding to let him play with your hair, hoping it’ll keep him occupied enough to remain otherwise civil.

Toto continues, oblivious to the minor drama unfolding. "Our strategy today is crucial. The Hockenheimring demands precision and teamwork. Each of you has a role to play in our success."

You try to listen intently, but the constant fiddling with your hair is distracting. Jungkook's behaviour is both infuriating and perplexing. Why does he have to act like this?

"And Jungkook," Toto addresses him directly, which causes him to tense behind you, "your performance at the simulation yesterday was impressive. Keep that focus today."

Jungkook relaxes and finally stops playing with your hair to acknowledge Toto. "Will do, boss."

With a brief reprieve, you manage to take notes and pay closer attention. Toto outlines the key areas of focus for the day, emphasising the importance of communication and adaptability. You jot down every detail, determined to do your part flawlessly.

"Joongki and ___,“ Toto says, gesturing to you, "I need you to ensure all systems are optimised. We can’t afford any technical glitches."

"Understood," Joongki and you reply in unison, giving each other a small smile and giggle. Jungkook tugs on your hair again, making you turn around and give him a sharp glare. He looks straight ahead, over your head, pretending not to notice.

"And for the rest of you," Toto continues, "stay alert and be ready for anything. This track has its challenges, but I know we can conquer them."

As the meeting draws to a close, Toto claps his hands together. "Alright, team. Let's make today count."

You gather your things, relieved that the meeting is over. Jungkook's antics have been exhausting, and you’re eager to get back to the professional tasks at hand.

"Remember what we discussed," Toto reminds everyone as the room gradually gains in volume. "Stay focused and give it your all."

With a final nod, you and the team disperse. As you exit the meeting room, Jungkook catches up to you.

"Nice work in there, by the way," he says, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Thanks," you reply, trying to keep your irritation in check.

"Let’s hope you can keep up during the training,“ he adds, his tone teasing.

"I’ll be just fine," you retort, determined not to let him get under your skin.

You quicken your pace, hurrying to the garage as you follow Joongki, who has gone ahead. Mentally, you prepare for the day's challenges. Despite the rocky start, you remain confident in your abilities and ready to tackle whatever comes your way.

The training session yesterday was a resounding success. Out of the fourteen possible tyre options, you meticulously tested virtually all options and decided on the three best choices, again testing those at training under race conditions. The data gathered from these tests, once analysed and altered in the strategy, was approved by everyone, setting a solid foundation for today’s qualifying.

It’s Saturday midday, and the atmosphere at the Hockenheimring is charged with anticipation. The sun is high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the bustling pit lane. Mechanics and engineers hustle about, making last-minute adjustments to the cars, while the drivers, including Jungkook, focus on the task ahead. You had no problems entering the premises today, and Jungkook has remained professional, a welcome shift from his usual antics.

The garage is a flurry of passing figures as the team prepares for the qualifying session. The air is thick with the scent of gasoline and heated rubber. Engineers are hunched over laptops, analysing data streams, while mechanics double-check the car’s settings. Jungkook sits in the cockpit of his car, a picture of concentration as he listens to the final briefing over the team radio.

"Alright, everyone, let's stay focused," Toto's voice comes over the comms, commanding yet calm. "Jungkook, remember the plan. We’re aiming for a strong position."

"Got it, boss," Jungkook replies, his tone steady.

You stand by the side, tablet in hand, monitoring the data. Despite the rocky start to the prior day, you feel confident in your abilities and the strategy you’ve helped develop. Jungkook and you exchange a brief, professional nod, a silent acknowledgment of the importance of this moment.

The qualifying session begins, and cars take to the track one by one. When it's Jungkook's turn, you watch the monitors intently, tracking his every move. He launches off the line with precision, navigating the curves and straights of the Hockenheimring with his usual finesse. His initial times are promising, and the team watches with bated breath.

But then, something starts to feel off. The data on your screen shows an anomaly, and a knot of anxiety forms in your stomach. You frantically try to diagnose the problem, but the more you look, the more the data blurs into an incomprehensible mess. The pressure mounts, and you can’t pinpoint the issue in time.

On the track, Jungkook's performance begins to falter. 

„Fucking hell! DO SOMETHING!“ His voice screams through the radio, his lap times aren’t meeting the expected benchmarks, and it's clear something is wrong with the car. Despite his best efforts, he can’t push the vehicle to its limits. The session ends with a disappointing result: Jungkook qualifies in P5.

The team is silent as Jungkook drives back into the garage, the tension palpable. You can see the frustration etched on his face as he removes his helmet and steps out of the car.

An emergency meeting is called immediately. You, Jungkook, Toto, the technical director James, Joongki, and George, who qualified P7, gather in the briefing room. The atmosphere is heavy with disappointment and concern.

"I apologise," you begin, your voice wavering. "I should have caught the issue sooner. It's my fault we couldn't perform better."

Toto nods, his expression stern but not unkind. "We'll figure it out. For now, let’s focus on understanding what went wrong."

The meeting continues with technical discussions, but you can barely focus, the weight of your mistake pressing down on you. Once everyone is dismissed, you remain seated, staring at the empty desk in front of you.

Jungkook, however, stays behind. He closes the door, his steps echoing in the now silent room as he walks towards you. His face is a storm of anger and frustration that you refuse to look at. 

"How difficult can it be to choose the right tyres from fourteen?" he snaps, his voice dripping with contempt. "Even a chimpanzee without a degree would have done a better job."

You remain silent, still refusing to meet his gaze, your eyes fixed on the white, empty desk before you. The insult stings, but you’re determined not to let him see how deeply it affects you.

"Look at me!" Jungkook barks, his tone demanding and harsh.

You will your pupils to stop trembling and school your features as you lock eyes with him. His glare is fierce, his anger barely contained.

"I knew it was nepotism," he continues, his words like a blade cutting into your pride.

Jungkook turns and begins to walk towards the door, his anger radiating off him in waves. Just as he reaches for the handle, you speak, your voice icy and firm, stopping him in his tracks.

"My position has nothing to do with nepotism," you say, each word deliberate and precise. "You should know that. Mr. Jeon Junior."

He freezes, his hand hovering over the door handle. Slowly, he turns back to face you, his expression a mixture of shock and fury. The room is silent, the tension between you crackling like static in the air.

Race day at the Hockenheimring is a media frenzy, with reporters and cameras swarming the circuit and paddock like bees to honey. Bright lights flash and microphones are thrust into the faces of team members and drivers alike, each seeking a soundbite or a glimpse into the high-stakes world of Formula 1. You navigate through the throng, keeping your head down, your focus solely on the race ahead. The cacophony of questions and the buzz of anticipation are distractions you can't afford. Your path is a series of calculated dodges and quick steps, slipping past eager journalists and sidestepping photographers, all thanks to your short height. This is not the time for interviews or media appearances; your mind is on the data, the strategy, and ensuring every detail is perfect for Jungkook's performance on the track.

As you weave through the last few meters of the bustling paddock of Ferrari, a hairs breath away from your team one space further, a determined reporter manages to intercept you. His microphone is already poised as he asks, "Excuse me, could you spare a moment? How is it to work for Jungkook?"

You offer a polite smile, keeping your tone professional. "It's a blessing to work for the Mercedes AMG Petronas team. The entire team, including Jungkook, is dedicated and talented. It’s an honour to contribute to such a high-performing group."

The reporter, not missing a beat, probes further, "And are you single?"

Maintaining your composure, you reply diplomatically, "I believe our focus today should be on the race and the team’s performance. Personal matters are best kept private."

He glances at your attire, noting that it's different from the usual team uniform. "You're not wearing the usual uniform. Is this something new?"

You nod, indicating your outfit. "Yes, my dress is part of our new uniform collection, available in the merchandise store. We wanted to offer something stylish and professional for the fans."

"Thank you for your time," the reporter says, slightly taken aback by your poised responses.

"Thank you," you respond, maintaining your smile as you quickly head toward your team, ready to immerse yourself back into the race preparations.

Stepping foot into Mercedes’ paddock the Mechanics, engineers, and team members buzz around, making final preparations. The conflict from yesterday weighs heavily on you, but you’re determined not to let it affect your performance. You’re a professional, more than capable, and you will your confidence not to waver.

You sit down at your workstation, double-checking the data, ensuring that every detail is perfect. The screens in front of you display telemetry, tyre pressures, and fuel loads. Your fingers fly across the keyboard as you input last-minute adjustments. The noise of the paddock fades into the background as you focus on the task at hand.

You haven’t yet spoken to Jungkook today, only briefly seen him with his physical therapist, Trish, who looked at you strangely for no apparent reason since day one of you working with Jungkook. His words from yesterday still echo in your mind, but you push them aside. There’s no room for doubt now. You finish your checks and head further into the paddock to fetch a drink, hoping the cool liquid will steady your nerves.

As you approach the vending machine, you hear voices coming from a nearby room. You recognise them immediately: George, Toto, and Jungkook. Curiosity gets the better of you, and as your name falls, you can’t help but secretly listen in.

“I don’t know what your problem is with her, and it’s none of our business,” George says, his tone calm but firm.

Toto’s voice follows, carrying a note of authority. “But remember that the radio is public during the race, so school your words and don’t pull a media stunt.”

Your heart races as you hear footsteps approaching the door. You quickly walk past, pretending to be engrossed in your notes. The three of them emerge, their expressions serious, but they don’t notice you.

The team gathers for the final preparations. The drivers slip into their suits, and the mechanics make last-minute adjustments to the cars. The atmosphere is tense but charged with anticipation. Jungkook’s car is a sleek, silver machine, gleaming under the midday sun. He climbs into the cockpit, his face a mask of concentration.

You take your place at the side, headset on, ready to relay information. The tension in the air is almost palpable as the minutes tick down to the start of the race. Engines roar to life, filling the paddock with a deafening sound. The crowd’s energy is contagious, their cheers a backdrop to the high-stakes drama unfolding on the track.

And as Jungkook and all the other drivers complete their warm up round, he takes his position on the starting grid in P5, two positions before George. 

"Alright, Jungkook, stay focused. Remember our strategy," you say over the team radio, your voice steady yet charged with anticipation. "We've got this."

The scent of burning rubber and the electrifying hum of the crowd fill the air, amplifying the intensity of the moment. You watch intently, a collective breath is being held, as the lights go out, signalling the start of the race.

Jungkook launches off the line, his reflexes razor-sharp. He navigates the initial chaos with precision, the roar of engines and screeching tyres a symphony of speed. The first few corners are tight, but he manoeuvres deftly, maintaining a solid position within the top five.

"Great start, Jungkook. Keep pushing. We're right where we need to be," you encourage, your eyes glued to the live feed and telemetry data.

“Got it,” Jungkook’s voice crackles through the radio, laced with determination.

As he approaches the notorious Turn 6 hairpin, the tension mounts. He brakes hard, the car almost dancing on the edge of control, and executes a near-perfect turn that allows him to overtake two competitors. The crowd gasps in awe, witnessing his skill firsthand.

"Fantastic move! You're now P3. Keep the pressure on the leaders," you inform him, a note of excitement creeping into your voice.

“Copy that.”

The race progresses, each lap a testament to Jungkook's prowess and the team's meticulous planning. He expertly navigates the Hockenheimring's combination of high-speed straights and technical corners, inching closer to the front with each lap. His focus never wavers, his communication with the pit crew and you seamless.

“Box this lap, box this lap. Confirm, please,” you call out as he approaches the pit entry, the strategic change crucial for maintaining his edge.

“Understood. Box this lap.” Jungkook executes a flawless pit stop, the team working with military precision. Tyres are changed from medium to soft, designed to gain more speed for the remaining laps. In no time, he’s back on track, maintaining his momentum.

"Excellent stop. You're P2 now. Just some more laps to go," you say, your excitement mirroring the intensity of the race.

Lap after lap, Jungkook closes the gap to the leader. The final laps of the race are a thrilling cat-and-mouse chase. With just two laps to go, he sees his opportunity. On the Parabolika, the long straight, he activates the DRS, gaining a significant speed advantage.

"Go for it, Jungkook! Now's your chance!" you urge him, adjusting the DRS to give him the most push.

He makes his move, slipping past the leader with a breathtaking overtake. The moment is pure magic.

“GOTCHA!” he screams into the receiver, making you and the rest of the team burst into laughter and cheers.

The crowd erupts, and Jungkook holds his position through the final turns, expertly defending against any counterattacks. The finish line is in sight, and he crosses it first, triumphant.

"You did it, Jungkook! You won!" you shout over the radio, unable to contain your elation. You punch the air and bump fists with Joongki, the moment a culmination of all your hard work.

As he slows down on his victory lap, Jungkook waves to the adoring fans. Today, with the support of your team and Jungkook’s unwavering determination, he has conquered the Hockenheimring.

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” Jungkook says through the radio. Though his gratitude is clear, your mind drifts back to the conversation you overheard and its implications. The thrill of victory is tinged with the weight of the future, but for now, the triumph is yours to savour.

01 • series masterlist • 03

a/n 2: lmk what you think in any way you like! please send me a message, ask or comment if you would like to be tagged for upcoming chapters 💕 also - character asks and drabble requests are open

Like what you read? Check out my other work here!

taglist: @jksusawife

[atiyasnake]

Batty ghosts Masterlist

I've been responding to some prompts and posts with little bits of writing and tbh sometimes I lose track of them in the chaos so here is a sort of 'masterlist' I guess of the different posts I've responded to. (make sure to give the OPs some love!!). List below

Clone at the grave AU Bats find lookalike of Jason (danny) at his grave.

Dinner is Served Alfred beings home a young man (danny) for dinner after seeing him protect someone on the street.

What Protects from the Shadows a response to tourettes dog of the fenton fam going to Gotham and thinking bats is a ghost. Danny decides to protect the bat. I made a fic on ao3.

Getting eggs at 2:52am Jason in civies comes across the meta? Bats has been annoyed about at a cornershop/bodega The kid is getting eggs and is spooky

Polite Overshadowing Jason gets overshadowed in a polite way by a fed up ghost king.

Beast boy smells Death beast boy follows a boy that smells like death (Danny) and who tries to shoot a thermos at him. What the kid says is only more confusing.

The Franken Core au a response to someone's prompt/au where the GIW messed with the core of a halfa and an eldritch horror was the result. And jazz runs away with EldritchThermos Danny.

Rude Interruptions a cult summons the ghost king when he was on a date. He is not amused.

Wrong ghost kid Sleep deprivations result in Danny supposedly scruffing Dani, who was threatening some ppl with a sword and calming him down. Except he def had the wrong kid.

Arkham Internship Jazz is the interning at Arkham and a unphased badass about it.

Danny's Arkham Vaca Danny portals into arkham and isn't allowed to leave, so he decides to take a break along with making some new changes in the asylum's structure

Ghostly Retribution Danny decides to employ some petty yet unsettling revenge against one Joker while in gotham.

Smash the plate Danny is so very confident that he is not Bruce Wayne's kid, but a dna test proves him wrong.

No biggie Danny is a chill af manner calms down a pit enraged red hood leaving confusion in his wake

Pop goes the lazarus creature Danny pops out of pools of extoplasm when too much damage happens. One time it happens to be a pool right in the middle of a ninja and bat fight. And apparently this pool of extoplasm is sentient and very angry.

Accidental Kidnapping bat kids take home someone they presumed to be Tim, no one realizes this until 3 days later

Uncle Connie  Jack was disowned or cut off his family that were in the ghost/spirit field and somehow is related to John Constantine. It’s a surprise to find out that your somehow nephew is the ghost king.

Roofhopping Fenton Fam moved to Gotham and Danny decides that roof hopping is the best thing to do with the stress of it, even if he’s doing his best to avoid certain bat and bird-themed vigilantes. 

Concussions and mistaken identities  P.2   P.3 Danny is dragged somewhere by Jack while concussed and ends up mistaking Bruce as his dad. Bruce mistakes him for tim.

Summoning an overwhelmed teenager danny is stressed to the max and being summoned to deal with a ghost problem he didn’t even know about is the last straw, cue crying. 

The Kid There is a kid that keeps fighting Joker like a rabid animal in Gotham. it’s always on sight. including in Arkham.

Clockwork's Chosen: Danny gives prophecies and answers questions he shouldn’t know the answer to. It’s a normal occurrence at Casper High, but after graduation, Gotham better prepare itself.

Accidental Crime Lord    Ao3

Feral clown senses activate Danny goes feral mode when a clown is near, even in the middle of a conversation. Sam and Tucker have a routine for when this happened, despite how everyone else is so so very confused (including vigilantes). 

Just a hole in the wall  Kon gets hit by a spell from Klarion and ends up punching an interdimensional hole to one ghost boi trynna sleep

Cadmus Clones Somehow Ellie and Danny were frozen for study by Cadmus and then found by the JL who think they are clones. 

Sleepy thermos kid Danny due to circumstances falls asleep in the worst/best times/locations. Including one point just on top of Red Hood after helping him out by wacking the enemies with his thermos. 

Skeleton Key Tired danny used the skeleton key and ended up at Wayne manor

Put a gun to my head Immortal Danny living in Gotham got caught up as a hostage and shot in front of the bat. but low and behold, he’s not just gonna let that pass

Reaper’s Dance Danny does an ancient ghosty dance to ease the lost/forgotten/dammed souls in Gotham after being taken by the Wayne’s after his family died

Powerpoint Intervention Danny was taken by the JL under the assumption of being a clone of Tim, and when he finds out it was because they thought he was a clone, he decides to hold an intervention consisting of a very long powerpoint presentation.

Star the Clown Danny actually ended up liking clowns when dealing with his feelings about the freakshow incident, so much that he absolutely hated the Joker who gave clowns a bad name. and what better way to make him pay then be a clown who interferes with his plans. 

You lied  P.2 Danny finds out the Waynes are the bat and feels betrayed because now it feels like a lie (or so he thinks)

What came after the King  Pariah Dark is still the Ghost King and can be summoned, but what is more concerning is the creature that follows. 

Ripped from the core  Danny was ripped from his core and in some small shadow eldritch form stuck in Gotham. Instead of trying his luck with the bats and birds, he decided to try it with a scaly guy underground. 

Hit da bricks  After years of captivity and essentially torture from the GIW Danny lets himself slip into a fake world to escape the pain, he wakes up in the body of R-13, a clone of the robins from Cadmus, and then makes his escape. Except it isn’t actually a dream but real.  (I made three parts so far in response to Omni’s initial response to the prompt. they named the au and actually have their own branch of the story that you should def checkout!!)

Danny created the Infinte Realms

Stolen core Vlad took away Danny's core leaving Danny half of who he is, feeling hollow. Certain ppl at thr wayne gala notice.

You dare to touch the stars? Danny has been captive of GIW but what makes him snap and finally break free is when they dare to bring in the Martian Manhunter.

Here some smaller ones

Museums kind of suck possible idea of Danny returning items to their rightful owners

Pissed teens of Amity the JL doesn't respond so the Fenton teens decide to contact one Rhas al Ghul

Is Hood food? Three ways that the hood is lowkey food trope for one very hungry halfa kid could go.

Sup batty-yo Danny just keeps popping up where bat is on patrol, effectively concerning the man by the life tidbits he drops amidst just gossip. 

A few of them I am def planning to write more and eventually post fics of on ao3. My user is Atiya_Blackcharm.

Anyways hope you enjoy 💚

P.2 masterlist

[lanymme]

For requests, could I pretty please request some chenmiya? Maybe a naughty get together from the succubus au we keep talking about? Like their first one. It can be anything anywhere! Thank youuu love you forever!

Of course madame. Our special this evening is angsty dramatic victorian beans undergoing gothic emotions in a stereotypical yuri highschool setting with a side of implied future throuple.

(Everyone present is 18 or older, ofc.) (Dubcon warning, and descriptions of hunger, pls be safe!)

/\/\/\/\/\

Amiya has always been studious. Responsible. Responsive to instruction.

She always gets her schoolwork done ahead of time. She always waters all the flowerbeds across the grounds on-schedule. She always scores in the top 5 on every test. She never misses class. She never lets herself be seen out late.

And she never, ever eats where she sleeps.

But last night she was stuck inside, getting ahead on homework she wouldn’t be able to do on next week’s trip, and she didn’t have a chance to step out at night and get something to eat. And her emergency backup option, the NEET at the corner house by the train station who always sleeps late, had chosen this day, of all days, to get up early and venture outside.

The nurse is out today too. Her teacher asks for some help during lunch, so she doesn’t have time to sneak over to the other section where that scary flashy girl always takes naps for a snack.

And when school lets out, she has an appointment to talk about her college recommendation.

But it’s fine. It’s fine. She’s made it through the day. She just has to finish watering the last of the flowers and go home.

But she’s so, so hungry.

She wipes her forehead clean of sweat and adjusts her straw hat.

“—Amiya.”

Oh no.

Ch’en’s low voice, normally stoic—even chilly—is so warm, curling with fondness at the edges.

A shiver, a pit of dread and tension settles low in her belly.

“Oh, Ch’en!” She pushes herself to her feet and turns. “How—“

Her eye twitches. The way her track uniform compliments her—the exposed belly, the strong arms, the bead of sweat tracing the line of her handsome jaw. The casual potency of her posture. The way her hair is tied up, exposing the line of her neck.

The way she smells.

“…was your meet today?”

“Hmm. I’m proud enough of my performance, but there’s always room for improvement. But the freshmen really put in their best effort this time.” She smiles, then, subtly proud and caring in that thin, hard-won way that torments Amiya’s nights. “It seems like you’re working hard as well. Can I help you with anything?”

Amiya’s stomach growls.

“Oh! No, thank you, that’s very sweet of you to offer, but I’m almost done, and I’m sure you’re pretty tired anyway.” She turns away to hide her irises narrowing like a cat’s.

“Are you sure?” Ch’en asks, stepping forward. The cloud of her scent envelops Amiya, all active sweat and cool assurance and stoic virility, and she feels herself twitch. “I don’t want to push you, but I promise it wouldn’t be a burden. Anything you need, you know you can ask me.”

Ch’en steadying her with a hand on her waist, and smiling down at her with her eyes from so close up. Ch’en sternly scolding the first years, but smiling proudly as soon as they turn around, resolved to give it their best renewed again. Ch’en demolishing the opposition in a kendo match, and stoically, graciously accepting her medal. Ch’en gathering Amiya’s hand in both of hers, murmuring soft words of reassurance and then wiping her tears with her fingertips. Ch’en grabbing a book from a high shelf, and handing it to her with a smirk. Ch’en, warmth in her voice, calling her name.

Amiya grips her watering can, white-knuckled. Her gut flares with hunger. Ch’en, Ch’en is always like this. She’s so cool, but so gentle, considerate. So bold, so unguarded… she’s so good, she makes it hard for Amiya not to be bad.

“… Ch’en, you really—”

“Ahaha! Chenchen, don’t be so needy! Give the little bunny some space.”

“—oof!”

Amiya puts the can down and turns just in time to see Ch’en struggle her way out of the crook of Blaze’s elbow, her top rucking up all the way to the bottom of her sports bra as pushes out of her teammate’s sweaty embrace. She glares at her like an affronted cat, but Blaze has already changed targets.

“Waaahh!”

“Ehe, gotcha!” Blaze’s big arms trap Amiya in their hold, her face pushed up into her bicep and the corner of a boob pressed into her eye.

“Blaze, you’re all sweaty!” she whines, cheeks burning as she stops up her breath so she doesn’t breathe in her scent, doesn’t make a lunge at her own childhood friend.

“Awww, you’re sweaty too, y’know, working so hard out here in all this heat!” She pulls Amiya’s hat off, and ruffles her fingers in her hair. “I guess you’re right, though, I’m probably pretty rank.” She laughs, loud as ever, releasing Amiya from her prison to stumble back a step. “I did run my heart out, after all.” She taps her pacemaker scar where it peeks out from under her running top and winks at Amiya, who rolls her eyes good-naturedly.

Her arms are so strong and heavy, she’s so warm, so generous, surely…

“You know,” Blaze says, turning her gaze back to Ch’en, “this one here smoked everybody in four different events. Pretty impressive, right?” There’s a straightness to her spine, all of a sudden, a firmness—challenge. Ch’en gazes straight back at her, unflinching. “If you’re so humble like that, you’ll make the rest of us busting our asses to catch you feel bad. I dunno, maybe you should take some more pride in your accomplishments.”

“If you don’t like it,” Ch’en replies, “then beat me.”

Ah. She can feel it in the air. Tension, desire. She’s hungry.

“Oh, you can count on it,” Blaze growls, smiling slowly. “I better not catch you resting on your laurels, or I’ll knock you off your feet.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“I guess we will.”

They stare each other down.

Amiya’s stomach growls. If she pushed them together, here, into each others’ space, she could fill her belly. It would be so so tasty.

She needs to get home.

“Anyway!” Blaze claps her hands together. “I gotta get out of here. I’ve got a meeting I’m gonna be late to. Oh yeah!” she exclaims, stiltedly, and turns to Amiya with a big shit-eating grin. “I totally forgot, I was supposed to wheel the equipment cart back to the storage room. Could you two please get it for me?” She winks at Amiya, with the smug pride of an expert wingman.

Amiya’s stomach drops. She makes frantic eyes at Blaze, who mimes a fistbump and then spins away.

“Okey dokey, that’s all the time I have! See ya see ya!”

Before Amiya can say anything, she dashes off, leaving her and Ch’en alone again.

Ch’en’s eyes are already back on her. Amiya can hear her heart beating in her ears. “Sorry about her,” she says. “She’s always been like that, but she means well.”

Ch’en nods, smiling gently at her in that way she has, just for Amiya. “You’re a good friend. And she’s a good teammate.”

Amiya turns away from her, cheeks warm, insides a mess. It’s not fair, for Ch’en to smile like that, to talk to her so softly, when she’s trying so hard to keep her hands to herself. “Alright! Let me just finish up here, and then I’ll go take care of that cart.”

“We’ll take care of it. Please, Amiya, at least let me help you with that.”

She doesn’t have the heart to say no.

She’s so doomed.

—

Amiya puts her glasses back on, and grips the handle of the cart with sweaty hands. Next to her, Ch’en’s left hand almost touches her right, and she patiently waits for Amiya to brace herself before she starts pushing, together with her.

Amiya’s stomach is full of butterflies and gnawing emptiness. Ch’en smells good. So good. Just a little taste, a little bit—she knows she’d be so satisfying, and then—

She shakes her head.

“Amiya, are you alright?”

Guileless concern. Tenderness. It’s so much.

“I’m fine, don’t worry!”

“You always say that. You’re so strong. But if you ever need to lean on someone, I’m here for you.”

She pulses.

It’s not fair, Ch’en, it’s not fair.

She licks her teeth, inside her mouth.

And together, they push.

She knows she’s cute. People say she’s pretty. And her gently teasing sense of humor, the contrast with her primness, is honed and effective. Amiya is confident in her abilities.

But Ch’en never responds to any of it. Not even a little bit of want to tide her over during the schoolday. She knows Ch’en likes girls, from the low hum of desire that leaks from her in the changing room, even as she graciously and inconspicuously turns her head aside aside. But that desire has never been turned towards Amiya, no matter how hard she’s tried.

Instead, she always gets that smile, that soft smile—polite, respectful, restrained, yet warm and unguarded. It drives her crazy, has driven her crazy. It’s that smile she sees after she falls asleep on Ch’en’s shoulder, when she presses her chest into her arm, when Amiya lets their eye contact linger a moment too long and then smiles, when she laughs at something and then gives her a single glimpse of something mischievous: when she leans in close and brushes hair out of her face, and smiles at her; when she traces her muscles with a little laugh, and then goes quiet breathing just a little harder; when she laces her fingers into Ch’en’s, and smiles up at her.

And always, always, she gets that same smile back. Because Amiya’s been crazy about her since before she used to leave little letters of encouragement in her locker, since before she came of age and started hunting on her own, since before they met again in highschool and before the years they were separated by fate and circumstance.

Ch’en smiled at her that same way during those months in the hospital waiting room back when they were in fifth grade, going through tragedies beyond what anyone their age should have to hold.

And Amiya’s feelings have changed with the seasons, with the years.

But Ch’en’s smile never changes.

Ch’en’s just really fond of her.

—

They reach the storage shed.

And of course, of course, Ch’en asks Amiya to hold the door while she pushes the cart inside—always trying to surreptitiously give her the lighter task, to take on more for herself, always framing it as a request for help because she knows how self-conscious Amiya can get.

If she knew, Amiya thinks, would she do the same thing? Would she feel obligated to…

They fit the cart in, and the doors swing shut behind them, and then they’re alone together in that dark, cramped space.

She feels hollow. Empty. Her hands are tingling, her head hurts. Ch’en smells so so good. She could just, a little bit…

“Amiya? Are you alright?”

“Oh. Yes, I’m… I’m fine, thank you.” She smiles weakly. Her head is spinning. Ch’en frowns at her, unconvinced, worried. “Please. Let’s just… get this done with?”

“… Alright. If you say so. But please, if you need anything…”

Amiya digs a fingernail into her hand.

“You’ll be the first to know.”

Together, they begin to unload the cart. Hurdles, warmup equipment, batons, stanchions… the space is cramped, and they keep brushing against each other. It’s not fair, she can’t take it. The whole room smells like Ch’en, it smells so good, and she has to…

She crouches down to grab a box of starting blocks from the lower rack, and when she stands up she feels a rush of numbness all of a sudden, her vision goes blank, and she stumbles sleepily.

As the blood slowly reaches her brain, she realizes… Ch’en, she’s touching her. She’s slumped against Ch’en’s chest, an arm slung under her own to hold her up. Her touch is so soothing, a slow trickle of the vital energy that spills from her, tantalizing Amiya’s yawning hunger. At some point, Ch’en deftly took the box from her hand. She looks up into those concerned eyes, and she wants so badly that it hurts, a dull sting through her whole body like slow fire.

“Please, Amiya. Please at least let me carry the heavy things.”

“…Okay. I’m sorry. Thank you, Ch’en.”

“Can you stand?”

She pushes herself to her feet, and they stand there, so close together, breathing onto each others’ faces.

She could just stand on her tiptoes, and…

Ch’en gently smooths out the collar of her uniform with her free hand, and smiles at her, all princely worry.

She pats Amiya’s shoulder, and then steps in against her to pass by her on the narrow shelves, heading for the place on the rack for starting blocks.

Absently, Amiya wanders back to the cart, fixing her glasses, and grabs something from it.

Too much. It’s all too much. All these years, and all these hours… she’s at her limit.

I can’t take it anymore, Ch’en. I can’t. I’m so hungry. I know you’ll never want me like that. So I’ll give you a little push, and we can have a pleasant dream together, and then go back to being friends. Help me with this one little thing, will you?

With a feeling of dread anticipation, she spills over.

There’s… no existing attraction there to amplify. So she’s really, really gotta let her have it.

She fills up the dark, cool space of the shed. The shadows stretch and lengthen, a half-dreamscape overtaking the waking world.

“Ch’en,” she says, voice sweet, breathy: stretching, reaching helplessly to place a stack of plastic cones on the top shelf. “Can you help me with this? I can’t reach high enough.”

“Of course,” she says, her voice aching, yearning. “Anything… anything. You know I would—”

Her voice. As she talks her voice sinks deeper and deeper into her chest, becomes something husky, fervid. “And I… you’re so… I don’t—“ Ch’en trails off, behind her. Amiya hears her swallow. Feels her gaze burning into her. She can feel that throb of desire finally, finally, pointed her way, the heat she’s yearned for.

She just wishes it didn’t have to happen like this.

“Ch’en?” She sounds shy, sweet. Ch’en’s always liked that type—bookish, kind, gentle. She’s always caught her eye on girls like that.

Except for…

“Ah. Ah… I’m sorry. Of course.”

Ch’en steps in, pressed right up against her from behind, and gently takes the plastic cones from her hands, pressing her into the shelves as she reaches up to put them away.

“There you go,” she says, husky and soothing.

But she doesn’t step away.

Amiya shivers.

“Ch’en…? Are you—“

Those rough, kind hands gently caress her forearms, up to her wrists. Then they seize her, and press her firmly to the equipment in front of her.

She whines as Ch’en leans in, heavy breaths blowing hot against her ear, chest pressing into her back.

“Amiya, Amiya, I… I shouldn’t, but you—“

Amiya yields to her entirely, letting herself be pinned to the heavy box in front of her, sighing in satisfaction.

Ch’en makes a wounded noise behind her, panting heavily, sweating. “I can’t… you’re so…” she takes in a breath, a pull into her lungs of the scent of Amiya’s hair from just behind her ear, and sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. Amiya I’m sorry, I can’t—“

It’s like ice water thrown over her whole body.

What… what is she doing?

She takes in a deep breath, and pulls her energy back up into herself.

Ch’en stumbles away from her and into the other shelves, throwing a hand up to catch herself as they shake with a clatter.

Amiya’s chest feels hollowed out. Crushed. She had shaped it to feel like just a simple, meaningless sexy dream, and idle fantasy, but Ch’en had fought so hard, and… and it had turned into a nightmare.

Oh. She really. Really doesn’t like me, like that, even if I…

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I’m sorry, Ch’en, I… it was my fault, I made you…”

“No,” Ch’en says, grave, dreadful, but still so gentle. “No, Amiya, please. Listen to me. This is—this is my fault. I didn’t have enough self-control, I—you can’t blame yourself, for things I did. You don’t control my actions, I do. I’m the one to blame. I need you to know that.”

She sounds like she’s gritting her teeth. Like she’s going to cry.

Oh, Ch’en. She’d been careless. She’d wounded her heart, through her own selfishness, and now proud, gentle Ch’en was tearing herself apart for sins that weren’t her own, falling on her own sword to spare Amiya the pain she thought she’d caused.

There’s no coming back from this. She has done something that can’t be taken back.

There’s only one thing she can do to make it right. One way to take back the blame that rightfully belongs with her, even if it destroys this life she’s built these last 18 years.

She pushes off the shelf, pulls away from Ch’en, stepping into the open center of the storage shed. She watches as Ch’en’s heart visibly breaks as she retreats, seeing in it the confirmation of her guilt.

“I’m sorry, Ch’en,” she says. She carves this last look at her into her heart, smiling wistfully.

It’s been so much fun.

“I’ve been keeping something from you.”

She closes her eyes. Her wings unfurl from her hips, her horns spiral from her head, and her long, thin tail fades into existence behind her.

She can’t bear to see the reaction.

“I pushed those feelings on you. Since you… weren’t interested in me, I used my powers to… give you a little push. Just because I was hungry. I’m sorry, Ch’en. I’m so sorry.”

“Amiya…” she breathes. “what…?”

She forces a watery smile. “I’m not human. I’ve been lying to you all this time. I… I’m sorry.”

“I had no idea.” Ch’en’s voice is so soft. She steps closer. Amiya feels the rough, kind brush of her hand, where her neck and shoulder meet. “All this time, you’ve been carrying this alone…”

Amiya trembles. She’s so kind, even to someone like—

“…I’m sorry too. There’s something I’ve been keeping from you, as well.” Her voice is so low, so rough, so heavy with emotion.

Amiya blinks open her eyes. Ch’en is right there in front of her, smiling ruefully.

She bends down, resting her forehead on Amiya’s shoulder, like she’s praying, like she’s in pain.

“You didn’t need any kind of magic. I…”

She takes a slow, painful breath, and lets it out as a shudder, a death rattle.

Her fingers ball in Amiya’s uniform, clutching, desperate.

And then it hits her—a wave of yearning, of hunger, so strong, so compressed, it makes her feel drunk, a head-high that leaves her feeling sluggish and ragged.

“Oh, Ch’en… you—hnnn!”

Ch’en bites her shoulder, possessed with passion, the dull clamp of a predator’s prey-like desperation.

Amiya latches onto her in turn, arms and wings and tail clutching her close, squeezing her tight.

Ch’en licks the mark she’s made on her shoulder, slow and fervent, breaths shuddering, like she’s moving in a dream, so far beyond thought and reason. She nips at Amiya’s ear, and a spark shoots through her.

“I’ve always told you,” Ch’en murmurs, voice hoarse, wrecked, “if you need anything, please, please… please, take it from me.”

Amiya sobs.

Without saying a word, she gathers her power, and pours everything into Ch’en.