#these were not the highest quality drawings

[sparticus2000art]

Here’s a collection of very quick AU sans doodles that I made for a Kahoot! Night I’m doing with my friends.

They wanted everyone to make their own, and I had no idea what to do so I decided to make them suffer through guessing who a whole bunch of sans’ are (most of them know very little about undertale yet alone it’s aus)

[otakusheep15]

Flufftober Day 31: Proposal - Diasomnia

Characters included: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver (Vanrouge), Sebek Zigvolt

Word count: 3047

Malleus

Who proposed: Malleus

Malleus always had a complicated relationship with the idea of marriage growing up. He was pretty much exclusively raised by Lilia, a single father. He grew up hearing stories about how important love and marriage is, especially in fae culture, and especially especially because he’s the next in line for the throne. He needs to produce an heir once he’s on the throne, so it’s important that he finds someone he loves to create that heir with. 

Considering how isolated he always was growing up, Malleus doubted he’d ever find true love like he read about in fairytales. Then he met you, and suddenly everything was different. 

You taught him how to love in a way he never thought he could. Of course, he loves Lilia and Silver and Sebek, but that’s not the same. The way he loves you is different from anyone else he’s ever met. You practically saved him. You treated him like he was normal, like he wasn’t an all-powerful borderline god. You taught him a new kind of love he didn’t think he would ever truly experience. 

The love Malleus has for you is so pure, so soft. It’s completely different from the brooding, intimidating character everyone sees him as. He treats you like you’re the royal one rather than the other way around. 

When the thought of proposing first pops into Malleus’s mind, he gets so excited. The idea of growing even closer to you than he already is sounds perfect to him. It also helps that both Lilia and his grandmother are urging him to marry you soon so that he can produce an heir. That’s not the only reason he wants to marry you, of course, but the idea does urge him on for sure. 

Malleus begins planning the perfect proposal. First, he starts with the ring. He goes to every craftsman in Briar Valley, searching for the one who can make him the best ring. You deserve only the highest of quality, after all, and there’s no limit to how much he’ll pay. Once he finds the ideal craftsman, he has them make the ring to perfectly suit your tastes. After it suits his own standards, he pays and takes the ring. 

After that, he plans an outing for you and him. He decides to take you to dinner, having heard that this is a common date for humans, especially for proposals. He wants to make you as comfortable as possible, so he figures this is the best course of action. Naturally, he rents out the entire restaurant he chooses, meaning it’ll be just the two of you. 

When the two of you show up to the restaurant, Malleus looks very proud of himself. The restaurant is completely empty save for the staff, and he has a table reserved exactly in the middle of the room. He tells you to order whatever you’d like, as he’ll be paying for everything. 

As you dine, it becomes increasingly obvious what Malleus is up to. It’s not like you didn’t already know, as he’s never been the most subtle, but tonight it’s extra obvious. In a way, it’s honestly adorable. He’s clearly excited for what he has planned, and you’re just here for the ride. 

Once the meal is done, Malleus escorts you out of the restaurant, leading you on a nice stroll through Briar Valley. It lasts well into the night, and you can feel the tension rising the longer he draws this out. But, when you return to the castle without a ring, you start to think that maybe you were mistaken. Maybe he really did just want to take you out to a nice dinner and walk. 

You return to your room and begin preparing for bed. You head into the bathroom to take a quick shower. Then, you get into your comfy pajamas and head back to your bedroom, only to be immediately stopped in your tracks. 

Malleus is in the middle of your bedroom, surrounded by candles, on one knee with a ring. He stays there, waiting for your answer to his silent question. 

You run to him, and if he weren’t the Malleus Draconia, you would’ve tackled him straight to the floor. Unfortunately for you, he is very strong, so instead of a tackle, he merely catches you in his arms. Taking your almost-tackle as a yes, he pulls back just enough to take your hand, slipping the ring onto your finger. He then kisses your hand so tenderly, and you melt right then and there. 

Your wedding is actually so incredible. It’s extravagant and over-the-top, and everyone who should be invited is invited. Allies of Briar Valley, important nobles and high-ranking officials, and, of course, all of your friends. It’s the biggest celebration in centuries, and it’s absolutely going all out. 

Lilia

Who proposes: Lilia

Lilia gave up on romance long ago. Once he was put in charge of caring for Malleus, all of his own wants and needs were immediately put on the backburner. Honestly, he can’t even blame his lack of a love life on Malleus. He’s always been too busy for love, long before Malleus was in his care.

 Even when he meets you, he still hesitates, not sure if he wants to pursue anything. He liked you a lot, that much was certain. If he had to make a guess, he could also assume you liked him at the time too. But he just couldn’t bring himself to say anything about it for the longest time. 

Ironically, it’s because of Mallues, as well as Silver and Sebek, that he decided to confess to you. They’re the ones who encouraged him when he had a rare moment of self-consciousness. 

When he did confess, it actually went very well. You had accepted, and the two of you were officially dating from that point on. It’s the best decision he’s made in years, and he’s so glad his boys encouraged him to confess to you.

Now, he’s having a similar dilemma. You’ve been dating for a while now, and he really wants to propose to you. But, same as when he was scared to confess, he is now scared to propose. He’s never done something like this, and human courting rituals are so different from fae. He doesn’t want to mess something up and ruin your relationship. 

Once again, it comes down to his sons to hype him up. They give him all of the love and support he needs, and after a long while of trying to prove to him that he won’t ruin your relationship, he finally decides to suck it up and propose. Deep down, he knows you won’t reject him, and he wouldn’t be that surprised if you’ve been waiting for him. 

Normally, this is something he would meticulously plan out, taking his time to detail every little thing. However, even with the confidence boost, Lilia is still somewhat frazzled, so he decides to just do it as soon as possible so that he doesn’t have to sit with his nerves any longer. 

He buys a nice, hand-crafted ring that he’s sure you will love. He also buys a bouquet of flowers on impulse, deciding last minute that you’d like them as well. When he arrives back home, he notices you relaxing, and that somehow manages to calm him down. You look so nice, just hanging out around your house. You look up to greet him, immediately noticing the flowers. They make you smile, and you get up to meet him by the door. 

Lilia hands you the flowers before telling you he has a small surprise. Despite the nerves, he’s still the ever-cheeky Lilia, and he’s absolutely going to tease you, even if just a bit. 

He shows you the ring box, opening it up to reveal the ring he picked out for you. You stare in awe, and you smile at him as he places the ring on your finger. You’ve been waiting for him to be ready, and it looks like today is the day. 

The two of you walk hand in hand to grab a vase for your flowers, and you can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night. 

Your wedding is small. Initially, it was going to be bigger, but Lilia eventually decided that he wanted it to be more chill than originally planned. It ends up just being you, Lilia, Malleus, Silver, Sebek, and a few other close friends and family. Lilia doesn’t care much about the ceremony itself. He just really wants to be married to you. What he is excited for is the honeymoon. He loves traveling so much, and this is the best possible excuse to travel. Somehow, he almost convinced you to have a travel wedding, but you talked him down from doing that since you’re already having an extended honeymoon. 

Silver

Who proposes: you

Silver never really cared about relationships. He’s always been more focused on training to be a knight anyhow. It’s not like he’s against the whole concept of a relationship, and he never minded the thought of being in one when he’s older, but he just assumed a relationship would be years and years away, well after he’s finished his training.

What he did not expect at all was you to appear in his life. Suddenly, all of his plans of finishing his training before even considering romance just fly out the window, and he knows the second he sees you that he has to pursue you. With the encouragement of Lilia, he slowly begins courtship. 

Your initial romance is soft and slow, very much a fluffy slowburn. He’s so caring and sweet all throughout, always making sure you’re comfortable as he continues to court you. Even the littlest of gestures makes your heart melt, barely able to handle just how adorable he is. Everything about him is just perfect, and he can and absolutely will say the same about you. 

Everyone is hyping up your relationship so hard. Malleus and Lilia are your number one fans, and even Sebek is being supportive in his own unique way. The two of you are literally just a mountain of sugar and everyone around you is just completely obsessed. 

As you both grow older and your relationship develops, you only get more domestic, if that’s even possible. You’re truly living the cottagecore dream life out in the forests of Briar Valley where you spend your days hanging out with the animals and watching Silver continue to train. 

Much like your courting and early relationship, proposing is a slow process, but this time, you’re the one taking control. You’ve been wanting to propose for so long now, and now that you and Silver are stable and secure, you figure now is a good time to pop the question. With some support and advice from Lilia, you begin the process of planning your proposal. 

You manage to get a gorgeous ring, one that suits Silver’s ethereal vibe. You plan on proposing in the forest, surrounded by his animal friends. They’ve been a huge part of your life for so many years now, so it makes sense to have them around. 

On the day of the proposal, you planned out a nice picnic for the two of you. You spend the morning preparing sandwiches and fresh fruit as Silver watches you lovingly. It takes all your restraint to not just propose right now. He’s looking at you like you literally hung the moon and stars, and it makes you want to kiss every inch of his face until he can barely breathe. 

Still, you manage to hold yourself back, and you finish up the picnic preparations. With everything done, you and Silver head out, walking to your favorite clearing where you regularly have picnics. His animal friends join you as usual, and they snack on the fruits you packed while you and Silver enjoy your sandwiches. 

Once finished eating, you pull out the ring box, and Silver smiles at you when he realizes what you're holding. You’ve discussed marriage and proposing before, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise. He saw it coming, but you didn’t mind. If anything, the knowledge of your proposal only made the day better for Silver. 

Naturally, he says yes, and the kiss you share after is easily the sweetest thing at this picnic. The animals all seem very happy for you, and that only makes you feel even happier yourself. The two of you stay in the clearing for a bit longer, just basking in the beautiful scenery and each other’s company. 

Your wedding is nice and simple. A few friends and family are invited, and obviously all of Silver’s animal friends. It’s held in the forest, as it’s a very special place for the both of you. The clearing is minimally decorated, and everyone gets to enjoy the scenery. The ceremony itself is beautiful, and the reception is quite fun. The best part is that this is held right next to your house, meaning that if Silver gets tired, the two of you can just sneak away for a nap. 

Sebek

Who proposes: you

The day Sebek acknowledges that romance is a real thing that happens to people is the day the world ends. He represses his own emotions so hard, especially when it comes to stuff like this. It’s mostly because of his parents, and his dad more specifically. He has such a complex view on their relationship, and that’s made his own views on love a bit warped as well. 

When he begins feeling things for you, his immediate response is to repress and forget. However, that’s the absolute worst thing he can do, as that only makes him think about you more and more. Soon enough, all he can think about is how much he doesn’t want to be thinking about you, and he’s basically stuck in an endless loop at this point. 

It would almost be funny if it wasn’t sad. Lilia definitely tries to give Sebek advice, but most of his attempts just end with Sebek shutting down and getting grumpy. Even Malleus can’t seem to get through to him, and that’s when you know it’s bad. 

You, meanwhile, are just kind of vibing. You’re aware of what’s going on with Sebek to a certain extent. As far as you know, Sebek is in a funk because of something, and you're worried about him, but you don’t quite know what’s going on. No one will tell you why Sebek is so upset, and while you really want to help him, you also know to respect his privacy. 

Eventually, after a lot of yelling and lowkey threats, Sebek finally listens and admits his feelings for you, but he’s still not ready to confess immediately. Everyone has had enough of him, but they can only push him so far. 

What no one expects is for you to confess to him instead. Sebek is especially caught off guard, and he practically short circuits as you explain your feelings towards him. 

That seems to be the thing to finally work on him, and he (not-so) begrudgingly agrees to go out with you. You’re happy, Lilia and Malleus are happy, and Silver is just glad Sebek isn’t moping anymore. 

Your relationship progresses shockingly well from there. He learns to ease up a bit, and you help him out a lot during that process. Even if it’s hard for him to admit, he is genuinely grateful for you, and even more grateful you confessed to him when he didn’t have the courage. 

Little does he know you’re about to do it again. 

You’ve been together for a while now, and you really want to get married. If Sebek couldn’t even confess to you in high school, you know for a fact he would never be able to confess to you, even after all of his character development. Just because he’s less angry does not take away the fact that he’s still a bit of an anxious mess. 

That’s why you take on the role of doing the proposing instead. You’ve had it all planned out for a while now, and you think you’re finally ready to put your plan to action. 

You decide that the best place to propose would be at home. That way he’s comfortable and out of the public eye, just in case he does get a bit freaked out. You’re sure he wants to marry you, and you doubt he’d say no, but he might panic a bit if he’s caught off guard. 

Currently, he’s busy being a knight, so you’re home alone as you wait for him. When he returns home, you greet him with a homemade dinner, and you can tell that makes him incredibly happy. Sebek is a sucker for domesticality and you’re actively using that in your favor. 

Dinner is amazing, and Sebek is in a very good mood, and you decide this is the best time to ask him. You pull out your ring, presenting it to Sebek. He looks at you in shock, as if he doesn’t believe this is actually happening right now. You give him a tiny speech about how much you love him and how proud you are of him for how far he’s come, and that you’d really like to marry him. 

He continues to stare, and you see him swallow in nervousness. Then, he steps towards you, enveloping you in his arms, and you know that means yes. Sebek doesn’t even try to act all tsundere, instead choosing to be sincere as he gives you his official yes. You give him the ring, and he continues to hug you. You can tell you’ve made him very happy. 

Your wedding is a rather normal wedding. There’s a decent guest list, if only because he knows a lot of people from being a knight. The ceremony and reception are both quite simple, as Sebek has never been one for flashy presentation. He does get teased a lot by several of the guests for how nervous he was back when you first confessed to him, but it’s obvious that everyone is happy for him, and you as well.

[awzominator]

Day 30!!! AAAAHHHH WE MADE IT!!!!!! THIS EVENT WAS SO FUN AND EVERYONE DID SO WELL!!!!! ❤️💜🧡💙

These designs were a Meet the Robinsons AU that I fumbled Bc I got overwhelmed w options fjsjjd Mikey was Goob (kinda?) and RaMona kids went back in time to hunt him down to make their fam whole again. It spirals Bc the hat (Doris) still exists and was invented by Donnie. She still wanted revenge on Donnie (and Leo and Raph) Bc they tried to “kill” her. Alas I got lost in the details and plot so I had to drop it 😔 anyways more info on the kids below

Jennika: Just as Raphael was his father’s son Jennika is her father’s daughter. Both the good and the not so good qualities jumbled together to make him go Gray as he had done for Splinter. I love seeing the analysis where ppl show Raph and Splinter were near copies of eachother and wanted to play on that with Jennika. The story will be diff obvi as Jennika won’t be a raphael clone that’d be boring. She has her own dreams and destiny which conflict w Raphael’s overprotective parenting and worry which went overdrive after Mikey’s disappearance.

Venus: imagine living in the shadow of someone ya never even met and ur constantly second guessing if ur acting in such a way in order to keep ur fam happy or if u r truly living as urself. Rip to Venus she is a ray of sunshine and optimism with a flair for rustling up good natured trouble which often invokes her loved ones to draw connections to Mikey. Venus is a people pleaser to a drastically toxic point where she’ll ignore all of her own issues and worth so long as her loved one(s) are doing ok. Shes learning magic from Shinigami and is killing it ✨

Y’thann: most likely to plan and win an all out war! He’s very analytical and quick thinker however he’s the most arrogant little shit you would ever meet. No one would ever believe you tho as he’s also an incredible lair and a momma’s boy. Often found hanging around Uncle Donnie’s lab learning and building tech and weapons. He prefers salamandrian stuff and loves training with his mother. He gets away with so much Jennika loathes him for it as she is constantly thrown under the bus for it.

Koya is their cool/insane older cousin. Sorry Koya fans she isn’t a mutant but she does have a pet falcon named Koya JR.

April/Donnie/Casey have a kid that Casey found and took home but never designed her rip

Leo has the highest honor of being AroAce w no children Bc he’s got a hoard of nieces and nephews to train and care for

Not the best description but that’s the jist my notes on this are all over the place as I slowly lost my mind and plot

[leftneb]

Curiositas aka sirens!AU

in which Lando is a siren with species dysphoria and Oscar is the defintion of Just Some Guy, who happens to get caught up in Lando's mess. and obviously they fall in love along the way etc etc

I first posted about this idea over 2 months ago and I'm happy to announce that there is now a fic in the works!!! which will likely take at least another 2 months because goddamn the concept outgrew itself (as you can tell by the fact charles and max also, like, exist now) it's sitting at ~8k words rn, which is by far the longest thing I've ever written in my life already, but story isn't even close to being finished, so yeah it'll take a while lmao

for now though I have some character designs and lots of thoughts, which I'd like to share :3

ramblings about their individual designs and details below the cut!!

and massive thank you to my dear partner @lailau7904 for not only holding my hand through writing the fic so far but somehow being even more insane about this whole AU than I am???

LANDO

main character (and POV holder) his design isn't based on any real fish, closest resemblance is to a fake fishing lure (reference provided)

very little scarring despite sirens' hunting culture, some tiny cuts and scratches around the top of his tail from smuggling pretty stones and shards of glass

absurdly bright green scales (I really could've made him fluorescent but I think that would be overkill) which is absurdly shit for stealth purposes but good for catching the attention of potential victims

vague triangle shape language but in a semi-elegant way

doesn't eat fish and would rather not eat human either

MAX

fills the position of a leader in his and Lando's colony, inherited the role in his late teens but grew up to it pretty quickly

shark motif, all sharp and angular shapes, visibly intimidating

lots of scars collected during hunts, wounds covered over by red scales from Charles

his scales are pretty dark but they shine blue when the light hits them just right (plus Charles' scales are a bright red lmao, which is a bit suboptimal for stealth but he thinks it's worth it)

CHARLES

koi fish motif, soft and round shapes

no scarring at all

has known Max since they were kids but actually didn't meet Lando until their 20s despite Max and Lando being childhood best friends

considered legally dead by monegasque officials (this has lore reasons which I'm not about to spoil)

GENERAL NOTES

the AU plays in a modern setting, altough sirens are very behind on human technology

their gills are on the side of their ribs! they can also all breathe with their lungs above water

funky scales patterns on their torsos around "modified" areas such as their gills and back fin

they have no hands but don't let that fool you! I was simply too lazy to draw any, what you would see if I did draw them tho would include:

webbing between fingers!! matches the colour of fins

longer, and more solid, claw-like nails

wrinkled palms and fingertips

I really wanted to make Max and Charles' torsos more life accurate but could not be arsed, they all have Lando's body type, aka I've accidentally twinkified Charles and Max lmao

by now you might have noticed that there's no design for Oscar, and as much as I really want to make a siren design for him that would have some pretty heavy lore implications so I'm... hesitant to do so

other people on my sirenification waiting list are:

George Russell and Alex Albon (for the 2019 rookies circle to be complete)

Franco Colapinto (based purely off vibes)

the whole grid really god I'm so ill

for the record Logan is a human in this AU but he IS present fuck you James Vowles

you may have also noticed the papaya version I labeled as McLaren themed (this one is also the highest quality image I have in this thread if you're gonna do any zooming in please do it on this one,,,,)

all throughout writing and drawing I couldn't help but think about another banger siren!Lando fic: Salt Skin by @strawberry-daiquiris! in which Lando has orange slash papaya scales, which I just had to draw honestly

a lot of my design process was also inspired by a piece by @dumbf1sketches (it's somewhere in the pile of other gorgeous art in that post)

bonus underwater version of all of them because it wasn't bright enough for me to feel good about it being at the top but it's still like, the main colour example to my brain

TAGLIST(S)

AU @mintraindrop @cx-boxbox (I know the og post is from actual ages ago but you two were interested so I humbly offer you these crumbs)

ART @santongkabayo @cyclonixi @alto-the-avocado @loquarocoeur

people that put up with my ramblings on dc @lyslsstuff @peppysinc @girlrussell

[lisaslosingstreak]

Wednesday’s Writing Hour

A Losing Streak Headcanon

This is dedicated to all the Wenclair FanFic writers and illustrators, who don’t do it for the money or the fame, we do it because we love it.

So in canon we assume Wednesday forces herself to write for an hour a day, yes? How about that it isn’t that way - instead she LIMITS herself to an hour.

When she was seven she started writing and it soon became an overriding obsession. She wrote for several hours a day, some day from sunrise to sunset. She wrote a books worth of text every week, not of high quality but she just had to get it out of her head, she has so many ideas she had to get down on paper. It eventually affected her mentally, and even more socially. She didn’t need to talk about inane subjects with her class friends, and she became withdrawn and quiet cos time spent at school was time spent not writing which was incredibly difficult for her, it hurt.

Eventually her mother and Grandmama had to cast a spell over her which meant Wends could only write for an hour a day. At first this upset Wends so much but after a few weeks she found the quality of her writing skyrocketed. Everything she typed was of the highest quality., with zero mistakes and she had the ability to write with no prep notes or plans.

Her father bought for her the finest vintage typewriter and had made a set of special monogrammed boxes (that we see in canon) to hold her finished work neatly. Each book she wrote had its own box, several of which were at the Addams house but she brought 3 to Nevermore to store new works in. Each box is a finished work typed directly and perfectly done, ready to go to a publishers, no editing or proof reading needed.

This is why Wednesday NEVER misses her writing hour. It has become an hour of unadulterated pleasure for her, those sixty minutes her only chance to get the fully formed storylines in her head down on paper. It’s HER time to decompress, to take her brain out of gear and just create something wonderful.

Years later, Enid and Wends are married and they have a huge house. One room is dedicated to all these finely crafted wooden boxes with WA engraved in then. Several hundred of them which she drip feeds into publishers under a variety of fake names. Each one carefully retuned to its special custom made mahogany cabinet like an old library.

There is one special shelf with a locked glass door. These are smaller boxes which look mostly the same but which also have faint pink tinged inlays in them, and monogrammed EA instead.

On their wedding day Grandmama changes the spell, and allows Wednesday an extra half hour of writing a day, whispering to her that “you know what this is for, use it wisely”

That extra time is for her to write about Enid. She sometimes stays up late to use this extra time, sometimes wakes up early and kisses Enid before typing for those 30 minutes. Each time is used to write something for Enid, whose existence changed the way Wends thought. She had so many love confessions, poems and revelations she wanted to share with her wife and those thirty minutes were used for that. And each time afterwards Enid would find a slim box on their bed, or maybe in Enid’s little office, or in their plush drawing room. Each time a little note attached would say “with all my love, WA”. It would be the highlight of Enid’s day to read this little dedications of love, and she would treasure each one and file it away with the others.

Eventually they have a daughter Ophelia and at the age of four Ophelia pushes her way into Wednesdays writing room. Wends is torn cos she loves her crazy little daughter so much, her blonde hair all in disarray and carrying a little black covered notepad and a little case full of coloured pencils. But she HAS to write, yes?

Enid watches from the door and her heart melts with pride as Wednesday, with great difficulty, forces herself to stop typing and bends down to pick Ophelia up and place her on her knee.

“What’s the matter little terror of mine?” she asks softly, trying to mask to pain she has caused herself by stopping writing.

“Mamma, can I come and sit with you and write a story myself?”

“There’s isn’t any spare room at my desk darling I’m afraid”

“We could sit on the floor mamma!”

And so it happened, a few minutes later that Wends was laid on a blanket on her front next to her daughter in her office, with a notepad and pencil, and wrote a short story with her.

The next day a new shelf was made in the library, with a row of small delicate cream boxes on it, all skilfully engraved OA, each with little bits of paper filled with messily scrawled writing on them, and more importantly little drawings to go with the little stories.

Because, as Ophelia insisted, what better way to make a story come alive than illustrate it?

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, noncon ( reader tries to tap out ), pegging, power dynamic, implied age gap, mean!cocolia, use of toys ( vibrator & strap ), all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day twenty-four [ cocolia rand + failed tap out ]

you’d lost count of your orgasms after the third. in true Cocolia fashion, she has you in the most vulnerable position possible, your wrists bound to your knees by braided rope of the highest quality. you were going nowhere. you couldn’t even bring your legs together to guard your hypersensitive sex from the seemingly endless waves of mind-numbing vibration.

you thrashed against the toy she presses between your folds, gliding it up and down to test your sensitivity from every angle. you had reached a limit, and surpassed it. you were breaking. your button seemed to scream whenever she press the harsh buzzer into it, forcing you to take every, mind-numbing wave directly to your exploited, overstimulated nerve endings.

“I don’t know if I can take it anymore!”

what a silly thing to say. you realize it once it’s spoken, and the goddess looms over you with her piercing eyes narrowed, an unholy grimace on her face. “Don’t know if you can?” she feigns concern, her free hand reaching to caress your heated cheek whilst the other holds the whirring vibe to your core. “Is my little one all spent? Her sensitive, little snatch all swollen and sore, now?”

collecting your lower lip between your teeth and biting hard to relieve the pressure from the abuse between your hips and muffle your hopeless mewling, you nod. “It… hurts… Please, can I be done? Please?”

Cocolia simpers. with a click of the button on the bottom of the device, the vibration stops. you’re met with relief, but your hips still undulate, you still squirm with your legs wide open. tilting her head to one side, her golden tresses obscure the sharpness of her features, and long, slender digits tease your aching clit with butterfly strokes. your brows knit together, breath catching in your throat in a horrible croak, and you jerk against the restraints much more violently. “It hurts?” she asks, mocking perplexity as the expanse of her thumb pad rubs over your engorged nub. “Does this not feel good, little one? Your swollen cunt is dripping with desire, shuddering and eager to take your guardian’s cock, and you have the gall to tell me it hurts? Just who do you think you’re speaking to, sweetheart? Who are you demanding?”

throwing your head back, you spasm helplessly. “It-it’s too much, Supreme Guardian!” you plea, arching your back up off the seat of the throne. Cocolia’s favorite thing to do was always remind you of her status whilst she had you at her complete mercy. she was in control. she owned you. and you could do nothing about it. “I want it t-to stop—! I-I need it to stop!!”

“Have you forgotten that you are here for your Supreme Guardian’s amusement? That you are a little plaything for me to use as I please? Did you not intend to be so when you became one of my dutiful soldiers?” she demands, ignoring your cry for mercy, she has instead busied herself with smearing the juices collected on her fingers from your core on to the sizable phallus harnessed to her naked hips with gilded straps. “I’ll have to remind you what you are, and what you crave.” her voice is low and coarse, and dripping with a ruthlessness that only a truly diabolical woman can possess. it always sends an icy chill down your spine.

Cocolia guides the broad tip of her faux cock to part your folds and jab into your clenching hole. toes curling, you whine and babble, but take the first few inches in a single thrust that has your eyes rolling in your head. “Quite melodramatic, aren’t we?” she taunts, before drawing back almost to the point of slipping free from you. Cocolia’s hips buck forwards and she fills you completely this time, the icy kiss of the golden ring that holds the cock in place sending a shiver through you as it presses against your sex. you practically squeal at the sensation of being completely full paired with the overstimulation that has your entire core throbbing and screaming for a break. “You can take it, you’ve done it before.”

Cocolia hunches over your body, grasping your face hard. “Look at me,” she hisses, and you’ve no choice but to obey; eyes watery and wide, you look up at the woman taking you without remorse. the pace at which she ruts into your poor frame is merciless and greedy, and you’ve no other option but to writhe and buck against the reckless fucking. “You’re my little whore, a living fuckhole. My property, and no whore of mine is going to tell me when to stop. It’s time to break that nasty habit, dearest, time to destroy every limit you ever thought you had. So that you never, ever try to deny me access to your pussy again. Your Supreme Guardian’s cock will keep you in line.”

[mirisss]

Chapter 9

Stray Kids OT8 x hybrid! afab! reader

Warnings: anxiety, mentionings of a breeding facility, verbal and physical child abuse, neglect, spiked collars, blood, injuries, scars, suicidal thoughts, being apathetic, panic attacks, low self-esteem, I think that's everything,

This chapter involves flashbacks into (Y/n)’s past, so it’s a lot of angst but there are also fluffy moments in the chapter. 

Wordcount ≈ 3.2k

Thank you guys for your patience! I hope you like this chapter! 

Please reblog! 

Taglist: @ayoo-bangtan, @lose-lose07, @kingcarrot-thecarrotking, @starjane312, @reighlee-greaves, @hi-39024, @queenmea604, @septicrebel, @justayoungandwisefangirl, @imasimplol, @k-p0p-4ever, @detectivedoodle, @hehe-24-hehe, @jinnie-ret, let me know if you wanna be added!

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 10,

“He’s here, come on, (Y/n), we can go home and watch a movie and maybe draw some more,” “That -” YAWN “- sounds nice” “Haha, tired I see,” And so we got in the car, I barely sat down before my eyes were closing. The last thing I remember is hearing a low humming from Hyunjin as I rested my head against his shoulder before I fell into a deep sleep. 

Hyunjin’s POV

As soon as we sat down in the car, (Y/n) fell asleep with her head resting against my shoulder. I managed to move around to buckle her seatbelt without waking her. I leaned my head against hers as I lowly hummed an unfamiliar tune. Every now and then, (Y/n)’s body would twitch a little, not enough to wake her but enough to keep her from being comfortable. I recognized the twitching, Jisung does it sometimes too. I have done it a couple of times. 

Anxiety. 

Her anxiety is making her twitch, shiver, flinch even. That explains why she’s tired all the time, the anxiety twitches are keeping her from resting properly. I wish we knew more about what she has been through so that we can help her. 

Her ears twitch every once in a while too, though after doing some research on bunny hybrids, that was a normal trait for them. Her breathing was slightly too quick to be relaxed, but the way she nestled into my shoulder made my heart race. She was so cute. I loved her just as I loved the other members. She might not have been with us for that long, but it didn’t matter. Now that she’s in our lives, everything feels complete. 

I looked up and out of the car window, seeing that we were only about two minutes away from our apartment. “(Y/n), sweetie, bunny, wake up, we’re home,” 

(Y/n)’s POV

“(Y/n), sweetie, bunny, wake up, we’re home,” Home. That is such a nice word. I slowly came back to consciousness as I heard Hyunjin’s sweet voice calling my name. As I opened my eyes, I noticed that I was resting against Jinnie’s shoulder. As I understood what I was doing, old habits took over me and I jerked myself away from him. “Sorry,” “It’s alright, bunny. I don’t mind. It was cozy. Now, come on, let’s go home,” “Home,” Before I could stop myself I repeated the word home, Hyunjin looked down at me, his eyes looked glassy, almost as if they were filled with tears. “Yes, home.” 

The car came to a stop and we got out of the car. Hyunjin stretched out his hand and smiled at me, his eyes darting almost nervously between his hand and my eyes. I carefully took his hand, afraid that this was all a dream and if I moved too quickly, it would disappear. We went into the building, the elevator was empty for the first time since I came here. Elevators usually spike my anxiety. Reminding me of my past. 

Flashback

When I was nine years old I was still with my first owner. The breeders who had my parents. They weren’t exactly mean, but neither were they nice. They only cared about the hybrids they had of the highest quality. I was not one of those. They fed me enough to keep me healthy, but they gave me no love. They never spoke with me, they never pet me, they barely even looked at me. 

I hadn’t seen my parents or siblings since I was three. I felt isolated and lonely. The only friend I had was a desert fox who lived in the cage beside mine. He was also an outcast like me. The breeders said his personality wasn’t good, it didn’t fit his species. I didn’t understand what they meant, he was the nicest person I knew, before I got to know SKZ that is. 

One day, one of the breeders came up to me with a scary man. The unfamiliar man stared at me with a weird, creepy look in his eyes. I backed away as far as I could in my cage. My whole body shivering, my instincts screamed at me to run but I was stuck. I couldn’t escape. “I believe this one fits everything you wanted. Quite, small, obedient, ugly.” The breeder and the man laughed loudly, the creepy man agreed, saying he’ll take me. I began crying. Begging the breeder to let me stay. The fox boy in the cage beside me raised his voice trying to stop them from taking me. 

“No! Don’t take her, take me. Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t take her. Please, please, let her stay. NOO!” “Please, I want to stay. Please, I don’t want to go, please, help,” “(Y/n)!” That was the last time I saw him. He screamed my name as they dragged me out of the room filled with cages of neglected hybrids. 

The creepy man dragged me out of the breeding facility with a spiked collar. The spikes dug into my neck, causing permanent damage to my skin. Silent tears ran down my cheeks as no sound would leave my throat. It was my first car ride, and I didn’t want to ever get in another car, at least not with this man. I was nine years old, and he hit me, laughed at me, called me names, and told me how he would cut me and torture me for his own pleasure. 

When we arrived at wherever he was taking me, he once again dragged me along with the spiked collar. There was a tall building in front of us, and we were walking straight toward it. I tried calling for help as I saw many people around us, some of them looked but after seeing the man who was dragging me they all looked away, others didn’t look at all. 

When we came inside the building, we went into a strange small room, a loud *ding* could be heard as the doors opened. The tiny room was packed with people. I didn’t want to go, but the man pulled me inside, the spikes had now penetrated my skin completely, and drops of blood ran down my neck. “Nice toy you got there boss,” A few people said the same thing, as they all stared at me. Their voices harsh on my sensitive ears as they all laughed loudly. 

“Yes, we all will be able to enjoy this one. I made sure to buy a young one, so it will last long,” They spoke about me as if I were an object and not a living being. “Mm, so many fun things to do with such an ugly toy. I know it’s young but I hope it becomes prettier in the future,” My heart hurt from hearing what they said. It was true. I wasn’t pretty, that’s why the breeders didn’t keep me. It was why I didn’t deserve love. 

During the five years, that I lived with that man and his friends, the elevator was a common place for verbal and later on, physical abuse. Whenever someone saw me walking around the building, they would drag me into the elevator, hitting me, kicking me, spitting on me, pulling my ears, my hair, or my tail. They would curse at me, scream at me, and tell me why I didn’t deserve to live. After five years, they kicked me out after I became numb to their advances. 

I stopped speaking. I stopped crying, I stopped eating, I didn’t react to anything anymore, no matter what they did, I never reacted. I felt nothing but emptiness. I wanted nothing more than to die. If this was all my life was worth, I didn’t want to continue. When I stopped reacting, I stopped being fun for them so they kicked me out. Hoping I would die on the streets, all alone. Alone. That was all I knew how to be. 

Elevators always remind me of the scars around my neck, the scars that littered my body from the abuse it suffered all those years, and most importantly, elevators remind me of how ugly and worthless I am in the eyes of many. 

End of flashback

As I was pulled into a flashback, my breathing picked up, I couldn’t breathe, my eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything, my knees felt weak, I found my own eyes in the mirror, it felt as if I looked into the eyes of my terrified nine-year-old self. 

“(Y/n)! (Y/n), bunny, hold on, it’s okay, just breathe, hey, I’m here,” Hyunjin’s voice seemed far away as if he was in another room. I felt his gentle touch on my arms, I knew it was him, I knew I was safe, but my body didn’t understand. The doors to the elevator flew open with a *ding*, I used my full strength and pushed myself out of the elevator, landing on the floor outside. My arm hurt from landing on it awkwardly, but all I focused on was getting as far away from the elevator as possible.  

“(Y/n), please breathe, please,” My eyes slowly stopped darting around, they focused on Hyunjin’s eyes which were filled with tears as he looked down at me. Worry was written all over his handsome face. I didn’t want him to cry, especially not because of me. 

Third Person POV

(Y/n) looked up at Hyunjin as he leaned over her. The hybrid was lying on the floor, shaking, struggling to breathe, teardrops running down her cheeks. The dancer leaned over the scared hybrid, trying to calm her down, his own eyes and cheeks stained with tears, his heart hurt from seeing (Y/n) like this. 

One of (Y/n)’s arms reached up and gently caressed Hyunjin’s cheek. Her hand was cold against his warm cheek. She still trembled as she tried to catch her breath. Before she knew what she was doing, she leaned her head up, her hand gently guiding Hyunjin’s head down. Their lips barely met, the kiss so gentle it almost didn’t happen, but it did. Hyunjin’s heart raced a thousand times quicker as he realized what they were doing. He was kissing (Y/n). (Y/n) was kissing him. 

Hyunjin broke away from the kiss, a surprised look on his face as he looked down at the bunny. (Y/n) too looked surprised. She hadn’t realized what she had done, it seemed to be pure instinct. “I’m sorry,” (Y/n) whispered as she looked away, her hand falling from his cheek. “It’s okay. I liked it. Um, how about we get off the floor and go inside the apartment, to talk about what happened,” (Y/n) nodded in response, too embarrassed to speak. 

They went inside the apartment, first going into separate rooms to change clothes. (Y/n) got dressed in the fuzzy pajamas that Jeongin reminded her they had bought, it was warm and cozy. It smelled of Jeongin and Felix. (Y/n) inhaled their scents, it calmed her down. She still felt embarrassed over kissing Hyunjin, she had never done something like that before. Her first kiss. Her first kiss. 

Hyunjin was changing into some comfortable clothes too. His mind completely focused on what happened only minutes prior. (Y/n)’s soft lips against his own. Her cute eyes opened wide as she realized what she had done. Her small hand against his cheek. The way she pulled him in. It was intoxicating. He wanted more, but he had to hold himself back. (Y/n) probably didn’t mean to kiss him, she wasn’t ready, he thought. Especially after what happened in the elevator. 

Hyunjin walked into the living room and found (Y/n) sitting on the couch. One of her legs bounced anxiously on the floor. “Hey, do you want some water or tea, or maybe some hot chocolate?” “Water please,” “Alright, I’ll be right back with it,” (Y/n) was nervous, and anxious, thinking that she had truly ruined this now. She kissed Hyunjin without his permission, he was probably going to call the others and tell them that she couldn’t stay. That was what (Y/n) thought. 

“Here you go, bunny,” (Y/n) carefully took the cold water bottle from his hand, opened it, and took a sip. The cold water calmed her burning throat from the panic attack she had just a few minutes ago. “Would you be okay with telling me what happened in the elevator?” “It sparked some old memories,” “Could you tell me more about these memories? You don’t have to but I want to be able to help you, we all do, if you don’t feel ready to talk about it now, that’s okay, but please don’t be afraid to open up about what you’ve been through,” 

He spoke with so much sincerity in his voice and so much love in his gaze as he looked into the hybrid’s eyes. (Y/n) took a deep breath before she told him of the flashback she had. New tears clouded her eyes, Hyunjin embraced her in a calming hug as she cried and told him of all the horrible things the man had put her through. 

“Oh bunny, I’m so sorry, no one should ever have to go through such things,” Hyunjin held (Y/n) tighter as he did his best to calm her down. They stayed like that for a good 20 minutes until the door opened. Minho, Felix, and Jeongin stepped inside. Once they came into the living room they found Hyunjin and (Y/n) curled up on the couch together. The hybrid was still slightly shaking from crying and going through all of those memories twice. 

“What happened?” Felix said as soon as he realized that (Y/n) had been crying. “It’s a long story and I don’t think (Y/n) has it in her to tell it again or be present for it to be told,” Hyunjin answered, Minho noticed that the tall boy’s eyes were glossy, he too had been crying. “Alright, we’ll talk later. Now, do you want to watch a movie, eat something, sleep, or something else?” (Y/n) sniffled a little before she leaned away from Hyunjin’s warm embrace. “I’d like to take a bath if that is fine,” “Of course, come on, I’ll set it up for you,” Jeongin said as he gave her the wide smile she loved. 

Jeongin tried to cheer (Y/n) up by joking around and smiling. His presence did make her feel a bit better. Once again, he reminded her of that fox from the breeding facility. Warm, safe, familiar. His eyes were kind, with so much love and adoration in them. His touch was warm and gentle. Jeongin was happiness to her. “Do you want some bath salts in the bath?” “What’s that?” “Oh, they’re like tiny crystals that make the bath smell nice,” “Do you like those?” Jeongin smiled even wider at the question. “Yeah, they’re nice, we have a couple of different scents, this one’s my favorite!” He held out a little bottle with blue crystals, opened the lid, and let (Y/n) take in the scent. The hybrid inhaled the scent, it instantly reminded her of Jeongin. 

“Do you like it?” “Yeah, it, um, it smells like you,” “I’ll put some in the bath then,” Jeongin poured a few of the crystals into the warm water filling the tub. “There we go! Your towel is here, the same spot as always, and you have your clothes here, and I think that’s all,”  Jeongin was about to walk over to the door and leave (Y/n) in the bathroom. “Wait,” (Y/n) took a hold of his hand. 

“Hmm, what’s wrong?” “Can you just stay with me for a little while longer, I don’t want to be alone just yet,” “Alright, I’ll stay with you as long as you want me to,” They sat down on the floor, (Y/n) still held onto his hand. Jeongin kept an eye on the water in the tub, making sure it didn’t fill too much. “Can you hug me?” “Of course,” Jeongin turned off the water before he opened his arms and (Y/n) scooted closer into his embrace. 

“(Y/n), remember what we talked about earlier?” “About all of us facing challenges in the past?” “Yeah, you don’t ever have to be ashamed of what you’ve been through, none of it was your fault. We won’t ever hurt you, nor will we let anyone hurt you,” (Y/n) held onto Jeongin just a little tighter. “Can I tell you something about what happened today?” “Of course, if you want to tell me, then I’ll gladly listen,” “I’m embarrassed and worried about it,” “It’s okay, whatever it is, it will be fine,” “I kissed Hyunjin,” Jeongin looked down at (Y/n), not believing his ears. 

“What?” His voice was shocked, yet his eyes still held nothing but love and adoration. Making (Y/n) feel a little less worried. “I kissed Hyunjin. I didn’t even notice, I didn’t know what I was doing, it just happened,” “Okay, do you regret it?” “Um, I don’t know. I liked it, I think. I’ve never done anything like it before. I’m just scared that he’s angry with me,” “I promise you, that he is not angry. I’m certain he’s over the moon with joy. We all love you, and kissing is a sign of love, so none of us would be angry with you for kissing us, we just want you to do it when you want to, we don’t want to pressure you into anything,” 

(Y/n) listened intently as Jeongin spoke, his voice brought the bunny comfort. Her eyes explored his face. From his warm eyes to his nose, to his sharp jawline, and stopping at his lips. Something within her, yearning to feel his lips against hers. Even though the kiss with Hyunjin had barely happened, she yearned for more. She yearned to feel love in its purest form. 

“Can I… Can you, kiss me?” Jeongin smiled widely, his eyes seemed to sparkle as he leaned a little closer. “Are you sure?” (Y/n)’s eyes once again darted between his eyes and his lips. She felt safe. She felt loved. “Yes, I’m sure,” Jeongin leaned even closer, his heart racing. He was nervous and excited. The bunny felt the same as she leaned a little closer. Their lips were only mere millimeters apart. (Y/n) closed her eyes, fully trusting Jeongin, just as she would with any of the eight boys she now called her home. Jeonging couldn’t help but smile as he too closed his eyes. 

~ To be continued ~

Thank you for reading! Please reblog!

[chronicbeans]

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 3)

My brain has gone on with this idea and I love where it is going. Yippee!

TW: Obsessive Behavior, Stalking, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Idol Worshipping

🎥 This has gone on long enough! In just a few weeks since that interview, the letters and pictures have increased tenfold! You keep finding Wally in the oddest of places, like on your desk, in the lounge, or even next to your locker. It constantly feels like eyes are watching you.

🎥 Even the contents of the letters are getting stranger. They were always odd and creepy, but at least before they had lighthearted words in them. Now they're saying things like "You're the air I breathe and all I see. You make my days better or worse. You keep me warm and keep this neighborhood bright! Please, never abandon me!" It's all written in that messy crayon writing, too, which makes an eerie contrast to the words that makes you sick. It seems so childishly unaware of how disturbing the words are when thought about for too long.

🎥 The drawings aren't much better. Nine out of ten times, they include you in some way. From the pictures just including you, including you and the characters from Welcome Home, to - worst of all, in your opinion - you in real life places. You sitting at your desk. You sleeping in the lounge. You getting a cookie at the snack stand during the interview. There's even one of you putting on your coat at the lockers. The drawings may not be the highest quality, but they are detailed enough to both be recognizable places and to alarm you.

🎥 You have an idea of who it might be. It's gotta be Wally's voice actor. They were his puppeteer before their arthritis kicked in. They just couldn't move their hands enough to properly puppet him anymore, always complaining that it hurt, despite the medications they took. But, the producer did decide to keep them as Wally's voice actor, saying that nobody could replicate his distinct laughter, tone of speech, and voice pitch. Despite this, Wally's voice actor was properly ticked and hated the fact they were replaced. They're always acting passive aggressive towards you. It must be them, probably to try to scare you away.

🎥 Today, you have decided to confront them. Marching over to their recording booth, you knock on the door. When they open it, they have that signature glare that would put even Frank's to shame. Before they can even ask what you want, you tell them all about what has been going on and how you know they have been doing it. They have to be behind it. All of these drawings and letters have Wally's signature writing and art style. The only person that knows Wally more than you is his voice actor. It HAS to be them!

🎥 They grow silent, before looking at the pictures and letters. Then, they look up at you and say, in the most matter of fact tone "I haven't been able to draw or write anything in character for a YEAR, (Y/N). What makes you think I would put myself through the pain of trying to replicate it after all this time, with my horrible joints, just to frighten YOU, of all people? You aren't worth my time, much less my comfort. You got any other evidence to accuse me of this... Whatever this is?"

🎥 You grow silent. To be honest, thinking back on it, it really is a stupid idea that they would do all of this to scare you. If they couldn't even muster up the energy to go out of their way to verbally confront you, then it would be shocking for them to put the effort to write and draw things to do so. You still have one more question, though...

🎥"What about the voice I've been hearing? It sounds just like Wally. You are his voice actor. You have gotta know something."

🎥 Their eyes grow wide. Then, they shrug "The one that has been saying things about... well, something. It's always a bit too muffled to hear exactly what it is. I thought you somehow improved your Wally impression and were practicing in order to replace me completely. Your impression may be off enough for the producers to care, but it was always the best one here. You're telling me you aren't the one making that voice?"

[footballffbarbiex]

player: unnamed - anyone you want OC: female reader who isn't described. type: smut theme warnings: theme of sugar baby / sugar daddy.

-

the already impressive length of the text you're typing out to a friend is growing longer with each second that passes as you wait for him to come out of the shower. you're perched on the edge of the hotel bed, switching between replying to the texts and doing a little online shopping. the hotel that he's paid for is one of four that he books for these nights with you. he will only have the best room, in the best hotel and it shows.

the floor to ceiling windows boast the best 360 views of the city and you can still pinpoint the exact window that had your silhouette pressed against it like the touch from a ghost, leaving your presence within the room for hours after you've physically left it. the room is simple yet everything screams expensive. the mini bar is stocked with bottles of only the finest of champagnes, wines, and selection of spirits. you've image searched the art and it costs more than what he gives you a month. the bedsheets are the highest quality cotton and silk on a bed that was certainly not flat pack.

by the time you're dropping your phone back onto the bed and debating flinging yourself backwards too, he's stepping out of the bathroom in a blur of condensation and towards you.

"it's a good thing you don't have to pay me by the hour for these visits." you state, taking time to allow your gaze to linger over his body as he steps further into the room. the towel he's wearing is hanging low on his hips, not leaving much to the imagination at all.

"and why is that?" he's not oblivious to the way that you drink him in and there's already tell-tale signs of arousal. his own gaze drags over your body, admiring the new lingerie that he had sent your way as a "thinking of you in and out of this" gift. "You took your time," you comment, parting your legs and leaning back slightly as he fills the gap between your thighs and brings his torso close to yours. he's still slightly damp but you don't mind as you slot to him so perfectly it should be a crime to do so.

"you should already be nice and wet for me since you've been waiting so impatiently." he replies with a slight tone that brings a grin to your lips. he leaves enough of a gap to bring your hand between you both, hand reaching for his cock which is already stiffening against the towel. when your mouth opens to retort, he seizes the opportunity to claim your mouth.

Closing your fingers around his covered shaft, you stroke him ever so teasingly, enough to draw a slight whimper from him. you don't have time to be smug about such a thing, because you can already feel his own fingers brushing over the inside of your thigh and against your underwear.

your hips act with a mind of their own and buck up into his touch before you can stop yourself and you mirror the sound he made only moments ago. this arrangement was supposed to be financial only. and while there were no real feelings involved in a romantic sense, you did enjoy the genuine connection and chemistry that the two of you had which couldn't be bought.

"see," he says, middle finger stroking over the gusset of your panties, feeling the silky soaked patch increase as time ticks by. "so wet." "maybe that was from the thought of how I was going to be spending your money" you tease, and he grins; the action making your teeth clash together a little.

"you know what you did last time?" he asks in a quiet voice before his teeth nibble their way over your bottom lip. all you can do is hum your response as his fingers swipe over your swelling clit. "if you do that again, I'll pay for your shopping spree on top of this weeks payment."

the thought of having him powerlessly at your mercy once more is almost too great of an opportunity to pass up. you'd have done it again for free but if he was offering...

[fatuismooches]

Hoyo drops a Neuvilette dragon-form ladle and expects me to move on just like that? Not a chance.

Okay. Dottore. And fragile!reader who takes a liking in ceramics.

The weakness caused by mysterious sickness got the reader unable to attend to their hobbies as often as they'd have wished to. However, there are days when they feel great and devote their time to their lover. And if Zandik happens to be busy - it's ceramics time!

At first, there were no noticeable changes and Dottore doesn't acknowledge the strange items. It must be Pantalone or Columbina sending prank gifts anyway. But as the time passes, more and more strange items start appearing...

First, it was a the salt and pepper shakers. Instead of normal, tube-like shakers, two one-eyed bird creatures sat on the table. Their shape wasn't completely smooth, some imperfections here and there. The dyes overlapped in some places as well. Dottore knew right away that this wasn't bought from the local market. Why the strange shape, too?

That's when he begins to notice more. There is a ladle that's base takes the shape of the raven head that Dottore carries around his shoulders as a fancy accessory? There are a couple of ceramic bowls and plates that have silly drawings of the segments? The fox-monster-creature with a basket in its paws that serves as a fruit storage?

Dottore is confused. But also amazed.

He will praise the reader how wonderful all of their creations are, even if he finds them a tad bit weird at times. He loves them, really! Zandik will make sure to encourage their beloved to not stop the hobby since it is also good for their health - distraction from illness is always a great thing!

Let's just say Pantalone's bewilderment was immeasurable when he received a report stating that Dottore requests a ton of highest quality clay.

THIS IS SO CUTE... You always had a good amount of hobbies before you got sick, but after the illness, you find that your strength is too sapped to do anything too strenuous. So instead you stick to hobbies that don't require much energy, like reading for example. But that doesn't mean you're just going to give up on your old hobbies! Thankfully you still have good days that you can set aside for ceramics!! You don't bother telling Dottore because you assumed he'd realize it's you once you start sending your creations to him! (You think it's funny that it took him this long to realize, who else would take out the time to give him gifts? Only his dear lover of course!)

Not only are the shakers strange looking and far from perfection, but it is an odd thing to give to the man who barely eats, and when he does, the food is made and seasoned exactly to his liking by you. At least the shakers work...? That's one thing, at least. He doesn't have much use for them, but for some odd reason, he tucks them somewhere in his drawers for safekeeping.

However, more odd things that he would never use end up finding his way on his desk along with the very strange designs. He knows it couldn't be a joke anymore because of the sheer number and time it must have taken to make these things, despite them not being the most professional. There's really only one person he knows who could have done this. One of the plates has a wide pointy grin with red eyes that he can instantly recognize as Beta (Webttore) despite its simpleness. He doesn't think he could ever eat off a plate with that but he is amused by your creations. And also impressed.

First, he's very glad to hear your hands are steady enough to create such things. That is good news! Secondly, seeing you so happy is good for everyone considering your illness often impacts your mental state. Thirdly, he's partially offended that the other segments knew about your hobby and not him, your actual husband. Still, as long as it keeps you distracted, he'll keep indulging it for as long as you'd like. Even when you continue to send him strange gifts that he'd never use, only admire. (Pantalone is confused but soon puts two and two together.)

Of course, no one comments on the segments using puffling shakers in order to keep their life. I need a Foxttore fruit basket desperately... (imagine putting apples in it as a joke for Dottore teehee... :3)

[tzaraat]

i'm broke and have hospital bills to pay. in better news, i'm selling art!

sketches and small drawings on paper, size ranging from 5x5 cm to an A4 sheet. various mediums. price ranging from $10 to $30 US.

example pieces:

[image ID: six drawings in pen, oils, pencil and watercolours, three in each image. they are all relatively realistic. /.End ID]

disclaimer: being sketches, many of these pieces have miscellaneous text on the backside and/or were not painted on the highest quality paper. these sorts of issues will be handled on a case-by-case basis.

illustrations from my new skin for the old ceremony project, each the size of an A4 sheet. various mediums. price ranging from $35 to $50 US.

example pieces:

[image ID: four drawings in pen and oils, two in each image. each piece contains an illustration and sone handwritten text - the lyrics to the songs from new skin for the old ceremony. /.End ID]

larger paintings. oil on glass (approx. 70x100 cm), oil & watercolour on paper (100x140 cm), oil on embossed metal plate (approx. 55cm diameter). prices in the $200-$250 US range.

[image ID: an oil painting of two grappling figures, painted on a window. /.End ID]

[image ID: a watercolour and oil painting of two bare Chested figures, one lying down and the other kneeling. /.End ID]

[image ID: an oil portrait of Jon Moxley, painted on an embossed metal plate. /.End ID]

if you are interested in any of the above, feel free to contact me through tumblr DMs, email at rush43837@gmail.com, or discord at tzaraat. i'll show you which pieces are available, and provide all necessary information.

disclaimer: much of my work is done on medium-low quality substrates (i don't like dropping entire paychecks on supplies, and i am no longer in school) or on found objects (like the window and plate). in addition, i often work on improperly primed or entirely unprimed substrates, or experiment with paint chemistry and the likes. as such, i can't really guarantee archivability. if any painting seems to me particularly fragile, i will disclose it and we can discuss what should be done with it.

i'm open to negotiation re: pricing and the like. feel free to contact me even if you can't afford it right now, and would like me to reserve a piece for a later date.

i also have a ko-fi:

thank you all ♡

[booquip]

Hiii uhmm im still super new to tumblr so sorry if the format is wonky. This is kind of my first dabble into fan fiction but I had this idea for quite a while so enjoy!! ( feed back & constructive criticism is always appreciated 😋)

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!Reader x Geto Suguru

Summary: (Set in Highschool) Although looking back on it they realize both had fallen for you the moment they had met you. ( ik this seems pretty Suguru centric right now but trust me we get our moment with Satoru during the hangout)

Word Count: 710

The boys had fallen for you ever since you walked… well ran into the classroom doors.

The fast paced stomping of your feet could be heard from a mile away as you slammed the door open and ever so rudely interrupted Yaga Sensei’s class. “Excuse me, young la-!” You huffed each word you spoke trying and failing to catch your breath. “ Ahh… my.. a-apologies Yaga Sensei.. Ah sir! You see I was …initially going to arrive early but saw a stray cat and I … just had to feed it. Again apologies sir! ”You bow while still huffing. Yaga sensei sighs before speaking “The least you could do is introduce yourself before so rudely barging in.” You smile before going on your breath finally stabilizing “Oh my apologies sir! My name is L/N Y/N pleasure to meet you all!” As you look back at the three pairs of eyes before you, it’s only then you feel utterly embarrassed blood streaming right up to your face as you notice a boy with sparkling blue eyes and hair that rivaled the color of the clouds (not the ones you’d see on a thunder storm but those that appear biggest and brightest on a beautiful sunny day), along with a beautiful brunette woman.

Both were laughing making no attempts at all to mask their amusement at the spectacle bestowed upon them. While the raven haired boy tried to spare you some dignity by hiding his horrible kept chuckles in his hand ( it had no effect but you appreciated the effort nonetheless).

You sit in the farthest seat possible trying to make yourself unnoticeable for the duration of the class, you look outside the widow and get lost in the breathtaking view of the trees blowing in the beautiful summer wind. The months had just begun to get warmer and the world was looking so bright.

As you were so engrossed in the view Suguru however couldn’t help but spare glances at you all throughout the duration of class. He noticed your lack of attention to the lesson but also the way the sun had hugged your face, highlighting you in such a sensational way, you had looked so peaceful as if the world was crafted with you and you alone in mind. Suguru felt like you were drawing him in, he just had to talk to you, get to know you. So when the bell rang he all but sprinted to your desk, leaving Satoru a bit dazed. He felt bad for interrupting your thoughts but class did end so maybe he was doing you a favor, he tried to reason with himself.

Captivated by the view you didn’t hear the ring of the bell and were nudged by someone. Turning to look you noticed it was the raven haired man, he was much more handsome up close it’s difficult to describe as you think not even the highest quality camera could begin to compose the essence of his beauty. You notice his lips move to speak but your to engrossed in his presence to really notice that he had said something. It’s not until he nudges you again that you finally come back to earth. “ oh my apologies is there something you needed…” It’s only then when you realize you hadn’t captured his- He cuts your thought off.

“ Suguru. Suguru Geto.”

The name suits him you think as beautiful and elegant as the setting sun, ending the day and welcoming the next. He continues his sentence with a hearty chuckle “ I just wanted to inform you class ended about 10 minutes ago, what is it that you are so intensely thinking about?” He hadn’t realized what he blurted out before he quickly tried to save himself. Heat rose to your cheeks once again. How did you not notice? You don’t have time to internally beat yourself up for your lack of awareness before he goes on. “ If you’re not doing anything would you like to come have lunch with us? It’s not everyday we get a transfer student especially so late.”

Who would have thought that a simple invitation such as this one would lead to such a strong and beautiful bond amongst you four…

[whysperingwoods]

Ethics in Witchcraft: Empowerment vs Cheap Tricks

Witchcraft is mainstream-- a reality I never would have imagined ten years ago. With that rise comes a surge of offerings on various platforms, from spellwork to tarot readings, along with it the need for deeper questions: What's real? What's empowering? What crosses ethical lines? I want to explore the ethics of witchcraft, and how we can empower ourselves without resorting to cheap tricks.

The Etsy Dilemma: Quantity Over Quality?

What inspired me to write this article was setting up my Etsy shop. A few years ago, when this blog as last active, I sold tarot and fire readings on Etsy, and I was curious to see how things had changed since then. So, I decided to do a little research and see what other people were offering.

I was surprised to see how much the popularity of not only tarot readings, but spell work has skyrocketed in the last few years. Initially, I thought "Great! People are more open to witchcraft and divination!" But a closer look at the listings-- the quality, the prices, the speed of turnaround-- my excitement faded.

Let's take a look at some of the top listings that come up when you search for "tarot reading" on Etsy:

Most of the top results use stock images, some are obviously AI generated. The turnaround times are incredibly fast, and the prices are strikingly low. It's hard to imagine the quality of a 12-month tarot reading done in under an hour for a fraction of the usual cost. Now, let's look at the highest-selling listing:

The listing has racked up around 51 thousand sales in only 1200 days. That's 41 readings per day, just for this one listing (and this shop has several). Can you imagine providing 41 readings per day? It raises important questions: How much personal energy and focus can truly go into each reading when it's churned out at such a high volume?

When I adjusted the price range to being between $25 and $100, the listings were much more realistic. Photos of real people, with reasonable turnaround times and expectations. Phew!

What if we look at spellwork? This is where things get even more complex.

We see the same trend we saw with the tarot readings: Quick fixes, AI-generated images, extremely low prices.

Any experienced practitioner knows how much time and energy can go into a spell. Everyone has their own personal style-- sometimes I favour small workings that can be done in the span of a breath, and other times I like to prepare something elaborate that will take weeks to prepare and execute. But it raises a critical question: Can real intention be poured into something that’s mass-produced and requires only the click of a button?

At the heart of witchcraft is intention. Without it, what are we really practicing?

Love Spells and the Ethics of Consent

I would be remiss if I didn't talk about love spells here. This topic easily warrants its own post, but let's touch on some key points. Love magic is one of the most popular types of spells on Etsy, and I wouldn't be surprised if it holds true on other platforms. A quick glance through old grimoires and folk traditions reveals countless examples of love magic. In a world where connection feels more elusive than ever, it makes sense that these workings are in such high demand. But where do we draw the line?

Navigating consent in magic is tricky-- where do we distinguish between influencing the world in our favour and infringing on someone else’s free will? It’s a deeply personal question, one that each practitioner must answer for themselves. It's easy to tack on an "and it harm none" at the end of a spell and hope for the best. But that sidesteps some important questions: What is harm? How far do we take that? Sometimes, giving one person favour inevitably affects someone else. For example, casting a career spell to improve your chances of a promotion may unintentionally take an opportunity from another person. Can that not also be seen as harm?

This is why it's important for practitioners to reflect on what level of harm they are comfortable with. It's not an easy question, and the answers may shift over time and with experience. Ideally, none of us want to harm others, but that's something we have little control over. Maybe a better framework to consider is reducing suffering, rather than trying to avoid harm altogether. For example, while aiming for that promotion, you could also wish for your competitor’s contributions to be recognized in other ways. Instead of trying to avoid all harm, perhaps the goal can be to soften its impact and ensure that success isn’t gained at the expense of someone else's misery.

Rather than an “and it harm none” approach that could render a spell ineffective, asking ourselves how to minimize harm while still achieving our goals can lead to more balanced, thoughtful outcome-- ones that benefit everyone involved.

When it comes to love spells, another way to navigate this ethical grey area is by focusing on influencing your own circumstances rather than someone else's free will. I see this as putting something in the person's path, and allowing them to approach it themselves. Rather than casting a spell to make someone fall in love with you, how about casting a spell to increase your confidence, making yourself more noticeable, or drawing more positive attention your way? These types of spells empower you without infringing on someone else’s autonomy or agency.

Final Thoughts

At its core, ethical witchcraft is about empowerment—honouring the free will of others, practicing with intention, and ensuring that our magic comes from a place of authenticity. As practitioners, we have the power to shape our craft in a way that’s meaningful and respectful. Let’s choose paths that uplift and empower us, and the people around us.

I'd love to hear your thoughts. How do you approach ethics in your own craft? What ethical issues have you had to navigate, and how did you handle them?

[plasticbag3207]

Vox: Flatscreen vs. Box (CRT)

One thing has been mildly bothering me when it comes to people’s interpretation of Vox, specifically when showing him off in older settings: his portrayal (or lack thereof) as a box TV.

Obviously we all know he was a CRT (cathode ray tube; this is the more technical name for “Box TV” or “old-style tv”). We see him with this style of TV head in the picture of him and Val on the desk in Val’s room. (S1 E2 at about 7:27)

Not the highest quality photo, my bad, but it still gets the point across. We can also assume that this picture was probably taken in the 70s, since that’s when Valentino died. If I had to hazard a guess, I’d say late 70s, maybe early 80s.

CRT tvs have really only gone out of fashion recently, and flatscreens have only been common for the last 15-20 years. Although unlikely, it’s not impossible for Velvette to have been in Hell before Vox transferred to a flatscreen TV. Despite this, I still see a lot of people drawing Vox with a flatscreen way before they existed—or in general acting like he’s been a flatscreen way longer than he has.

I want to be clear and say that this doesn’t bother me a ton, and I still love all the art regardless. It’s just the little history nerd in me trying to point these things out and being mildly bothered by it.

I have a feeling it’s probably caused by a lot of younger people in the fandom that maybe weren’t old enough to remember their families having a CRT tv, or maybe they were born after their family had upgraded to a flatscreen? I don’t know. Maybe I’m all wrong with that idea, and the artists are purposely drawing him with a flatscreen because they prefer it?

Another headcanon of mine that I haven’t seen a ton of people talking about, that would support Vox not having a flatscreen until quite recently: new tech probably takes longer to get to hell.

When explaining this to my friend I used the analogy of how trends (fashion, architecture, lifestyle, internet, etc.) in the US tend to start on the coasts and work their way towards the center. By the time they even reach the Midwest, some of the shorter fads are already out of style on the coasts.

I sort of assumed this is how things work with hell and earth. Tech is invented/innovated on earth first, and generally takes a little longer for it to become common in Hell. Also, as far as we know (unless I’m mistaken) the main way hell finds out about the goings on on Earth is via sinners dying and relaying their expanded knowledge on to the rest of hell.

If this headcanon proves to be true, then that would push back the date when Vox upgraded to a flatscreen even more.

Idk, this is all just me rambling and just some food for thought. No hate to any artists or writers that have been portraying Vox as a flatscreen before it would make sense for him to have one.

Also rest in peace to all of the hazbin fans who were too young to have the life experience of almost being crushed by one of those old CRT TVs. Really missed out on that character building moment.

[ms-snape]

Lucius x Reader in which Draco hypes him up to court the Reader. Maybe she is Lucuis old hogwarts crush who is visiting the manor with her family for pureblood stuff, (No hating on Narcissa tho,)

Title: Old Crush

Warning: none

Words Count: 3000+

Masterlist

---

The Malfoy Manor stood tall against the waning twilight, its grand silhouette casting long shadows over the carefully manicured grounds. In the distance, the dark stone walls of the estate loomed, holding secrets—secrets that had been carefully locked away for years, only to be stirred up by a seemingly innocuous dinner invitation.

Lucius Malfoy was pacing inside the drawing room, the ornate chandelier above him casting a soft, golden glow over the room. His fingers tightened around the edge of his crystal tumbler, the amber liquid swirling inside as he tried to focus on the current matters at hand. His thoughts, however, were elsewhere—toward a time long ago when his life had been less complicated, when the future had seemed as bright as the stars themselves.

The evening had been meticulously planned. The table was set with the finest silver and crystal, each piece gleaming under the soft, flickering light of candles. The house-elves had been instructed to prepare a banquet of the highest quality. The guest list had been carefully curated, and there was one particular name that occupied Lucius’s mind: Y/N.

Y/N.

The name had not crossed his mind in years, not since their last encounter at Hogwarts. It was a memory he had buried deep, choosing to focus on the present rather than the past—on the rise of the Dark Lord, on the responsibilities of being a Malfoy, on marrying Narcissa, and eventually having a son. Yet now, with her impending arrival at the manor, the memory resurfaced in a wave of nostalgia that caught him off guard.

It wasn’t just the passing of time that had changed things. It was the sudden realization that, all these years later, he would see her again, this time as an adult, no longer the shy, innocent girl from their youth. The girl who had unknowingly occupied a special place in his heart, a place he had tried—unsuccessfully—to forget.

Lucius adjusted the cuffs of his pristine robes, his long fingers brushing over the fine fabric, his mind returning to their last interaction as teenagers. He could still remember the way she had looked—radiant, graceful, the very definition of elegance. Her laughter had been soft, like the gentle tinkling of silver bells, and her smile... he had always wondered if she even realized how her smile had haunted him.

He had never acted on his feelings for her, never had the courage to tell her how much he admired her. But now, years later, the same inexplicable pull he had felt back then was beginning to return. He wondered what had become of her, what path she had walked after Hogwarts, and whether she would still remember him, or whether he had faded into the background of her life as the years passed.

There was a knock on the door, snapping Lucius from his reverie.

“Master Malfoy,” the voice of the house-elf called through the crack in the door. “The guests have arrived.”

Lucius straightened, inhaling deeply, before giving a subtle nod. “Show them in.”

It was time.

The grand double doors to the drawing room opened slowly, and there, standing in the doorway, was Y/N.

Lucius’s breath caught in his throat.

She looked exactly the same—yet not at all. Time had sculpted her into someone more refined, more poised, but the essence of the girl he had once admired was still there. Her hair, long and dark, cascaded down her back in soft waves, her eyes gleaming with that same quiet intelligence he remembered. She was dressed in a deep sapphire gown that complemented her complexion, her posture exuding the kind of regal confidence only a powerful pureblood could possess.

Her presence filled the room, commanding attention effortlessly. Lucius found himself momentarily lost in her gaze, his heart racing in a way he hadn’t experienced in years.

Behind her stood her father—an older, more imposing figure—and her mother, a woman whose face was lined with the wisdom and grace of decades spent in the company of the finest families in the wizarding world. But it was Y/N who held Lucius’s attention.

“Y/N,” Lucius finally managed, his voice low, almost tentative. “It’s been so long.”

Her smile was warm, though it held a certain distance. “Lucius,” she greeted, her voice just as melodic as he remembered. “It’s good to see you again.”

The formality of the greeting did not go unnoticed. Lucius gave a polite bow to her parents, who had entered the room behind her, before turning back to Y/N.

“I trust the journey was comfortable?” he asked, his tone polite yet undeniably genuine.

“It was, thank you,” she replied, her smile never faltering. “Your home is as magnificent as ever.”

Lucius chuckled softly, though a pang of nostalgia tugged at his heart. “I suppose I have to keep up appearances.”

It was then that Draco entered the room, his steps light but deliberate, his eyes scanning the group before landing on Y/N.

Lucius’s son, now a young man on the cusp of adulthood, had been observing the scene quietly from the corner. He had never met Y/N before—his father’s feelings for her were not something he had been made aware of—but there was something in his father’s demeanor that immediately caught Draco’s attention. The way Lucius stood a little taller, the subtle way his gaze lingered on Y/N, the shift in the atmosphere that seemed to hum with unspoken tension.

Draco’s sharp eyes didn’t miss a single detail. He could feel the unspoken history between the two, even if he didn’t fully understand it.

After a moment of awkward silence, Draco’s natural instinct to break the tension took over. He gave a slight smile and extended a hand to Y/N. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Y/N. I don’t believe we’ve ever had the honor of crossing paths.”

Y/N’s smile was kind but polite as she took his hand. “The pleasure is mine, Draco. I’m sure we’ve heard much about each other.”

Draco gave a small laugh, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I imagine the stories have been exaggerated.” His tone was light, but there was something calculating in the way he observed the interaction between his father and their guest.

Lucius’s expression shifted subtly, a flicker of annoyance flashing across his face before he masked it. It was clear to Draco that something about Y/N had affected his father deeply. And given that Draco had never heard of Y/N before, this piqued his curiosity even further.

As the dinner began, the conversation turned to more mundane topics—the state of the Ministry, the ongoing political shifts, and the upcoming Quidditch season. Lucius was doing his best to appear composed, but his attention kept drifting toward Y/N.

There was no ring on her finger.

It was a detail that had not escaped his notice. Lucius had always assumed that, by now, Y/N would have married someone, settled down, perhaps had children of her own. The absence of a ring intrigued him, though he told himself it was of little consequence. The years had passed, and his life was no longer the one it had once been. He had responsibilities—his son, his family, his position in the wizarding world. Yet there, sitting across from him at the table, was Y/N, and he found it impossible to ignore the feeling that something had been left undone between them.

Draco, ever the observant one, had been watching his father closely. He could sense the shift in the air, the subtle tension that lingered around Lucius whenever Y/N spoke. It was as if his father was trying to suppress some old, long-forgotten feeling.

Draco’s mind worked quickly. He didn’t know what had transpired between his father and Y/N in their youth, but it was clear that there was unfinished business between them. And Draco, ever the opportunist, decided to play the matchmaker.

As the meal progressed, Draco made several subtle attempts to draw Y/N into conversation, asking her about her travels, her work, her family. Each time, he steered the conversation back to his father. He did it casually, but with a knowing glance. Lucius, however, was hardly aware of his son’s matchmaking efforts, too focused on Y/N.

Finally, after dessert had been served, and the conversation had shifted to lighter matters, Draco leaned back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He smiled at his father, and then at Y/N.

“You know, Father,” Draco began innocently, “I was just telling my friend Theodore Nott the other day that it’s high time the Malfoy family expanded its connections. The right connections.”

Lucius’s eyes flicked to Draco, an eyebrow quirked. “And what do you mean by that, Draco?”

Draco’s gaze flicked to Y/N, and then back to his father. “Oh, just that perhaps some old friendships could be revisited,” he said casually, but with an unmistakable undercurrent of mischief in his voice.

Lucius froze. His heart thudded loudly in his chest. Draco’s words were carefully chosen, and Lucius couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of discomfort. But Draco’s eyes were innocent, yet there was something knowing about them—something that suggested he had picked up on the tension between the two.

“Perhaps,” Lucius replied, his voice tight, “it’s best to leave the past where it belongs.”

Draco merely shrugged, but his eyes gleamed with a kind of satisfaction.

The evening wore on, but for Lucius, time seemed to stretch on forever. His thoughts were consumed by Y/N, by the memories of their youth, by the realization that life had led them both down different paths. Paths that, now, perhaps, could intersect once more.

The evening ended on a polite note, with guests exchanging pleasantries and preparing to depart. Lucius stood by the door, his eyes lingering on Y/N one last time. She was the same woman he had admired all those years ago—yet she was so much more now. There was an unspoken understanding between them, an awareness that something had shifted, though neither spoke of it directly.

As Y/N reached the door, she turned back to Lucius, her gaze softening.

“It was a pleasure, Lucius,” she said quietly, her voice filled with an emotion he couldn’t place. “Perhaps we should not wait so long before we meet again.”

Lucius’s heart skipped a beat. There was something in her words, in the way she said them, that held promise. The past wasn’t quite finished yet, and neither, it seemed, was their story.

As she walked away, Lucius found himself standing there, staring after her, unable to shake the feeling that his life had just taken an unexpected turn.

And so, as the last echoes of footsteps faded from the Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy found himself at a crossroads—one that he had never anticipated, but one that was now as inevitable as the coming dawn.

--

Weeks passed after that fateful dinner at the Malfoy Manor, and life returned to its predictable rhythm for Lucius. The manor remained pristine, his family’s reputation intact, and his position in the wizarding world unchallenged. But there was a lingering thought, a feeling that refused to dissipate, a presence that had subtly taken root in his mind—Y/N.

Lucius had tried, with all his might, to push aside the memories of their evening together. He had responsibilities, his son to guide, and the political landscape to navigate. But every time his gaze caught a glimpse of something familiar—a sapphire blue cloak, a flowing dark mane, or even the scent of lilies—it reminded him of her. Of their past.

It had been years since he had thought of Y/N with such intensity. During their days at Hogwarts, their lives had been shaped by their families' ambitions and the great conflict that loomed over them. But now? Now, after the passage of so much time, it seemed the possibility of a future, or at least a rekindling of something, hung in the air.

The moment came, unexpected and seemingly out of nowhere, one crisp autumn morning in the heart of London. Lucius had been summoned to the Ministry of Magic for a series of meetings with various department heads. The Ministry had always been a place of both opportunity and political minefield for someone like him—navigating it required a careful dance of diplomacy, subterfuge, and a very keen eye on potential allies and threats.

Lucius arrived in the Ministry lobby, his steps deliberate as he made his way past the statues and glittering marble. His robes whispered across the floor as he passed familiar faces, most of whom nodded respectfully at him, knowing his status as one of the most powerful purebloods in the wizarding world. His mind was preoccupied with the matters he had come to discuss with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and he paid little attention to the mundane sights of the bustling Ministry.

But then, as he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with a figure emerging from an adjacent hallway.

Y/N.

It happened so quickly that Lucius barely had time to register the shock of her sudden appearance before their eyes locked. Her figure was as striking as ever—tall, composed, with an air of quiet authority that could command a room without a single word. But it wasn’t just the years that had passed that changed her—there was a subtle maturity about her now, a sense of self-assuredness that radiated from her, it was second time he noticed it, the first itme being during that dinner, and now...

“Lucius,” she said, her voice softer than he remembered, though still carrying that familiar warmth.

“Y/N,” Lucius replied, his voice a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something far more personal.

The moment stretched between them, brief but intense. It had been years since they last spoke, just the two of them, no one else around, but in that instant, Lucius was reminded of their time together in their youth—the secret moments shared when the world had seemed so much simpler. Now, it was as if no time had passed at all. But the world had changed, and so had they.

The noise of the Ministry seemed to fade as Lucius and Y/N stood there, as if the room itself had quieted in reverence of this unexpected encounter. But the spell was broken when a voice called out to Y/N from behind.

“Miss Y/N! We’re running behind on the schedules for today’s meeting. Shall we?”

Lucius’s gaze shifted slightly as the interruption pulled him from his reverie. The speaker was a young, eager-looking wizard, dressed in a crisp, understated suit—clearly someone in a position of power, though nowhere near the caliber of Lucius himself.

Y/N smiled politely, though Lucius could see the slight tension in her posture as she turned her attention back to him.

“I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere,” she said, her tone apologetic. “But it was good to see you again, Lucius.”

Lucius nodded, though a part of him felt as though he had just missed the opportunity to truly speak to her, to catch up.

“I didn’t know you worked here at the Ministry,” Lucius remarked, his voice smooth but tinged with curiosity.

“I’ve been here for several years now,” Y/N explained, a faint but knowing smile on her lips. “I’m in the Department of Magical Transportation. It’s... far from the more public-facing departments, but I find the work fulfilling.”

Lucius’s brow furrowed in surprise. He had assumed, given her background, that Y/N would have found herself in a position more aligned with the prominent pureblood families—perhaps a post in the Department of International Magical Cooperation or even within the Wizengamot. But the Department of Magical Transportation was far more obscure, dealing with the intricacies of portkeys, apparition regulations, and other aspects of magical transportation that most wizards never gave much thought to.

“Magical Transportation?” Lucius repeated, almost incredulously. “I must admit, I didn’t think you would be in such a... practical department.”

Y/N laughed softly, a sound that brought a flash of warmth to Lucius’s chest. “I suppose it’s not glamorous,” she said. “But it has its own importance. Not all of us are eager for a hight and important place as yours.”

Lucius’s eyes searched her face for any hint of irony or regret, but there was none. She seemed perfectly content with her life, though he wondered what had brought her to such a quiet corner of the Ministry. Had her path truly diverged so completely from his own? Or was it by choice that she had stayed out of the political spotlight?

“Well, I won’t keep you from your duties,” Lucius said, though the disappointment in his voice was clear despite his best efforts to mask it. “It was good to see you, Y/N.”

“You as well, Lucius.” Her smile was warm, but there was a hint of sadness in it, as though she, too, regretted the brief nature of their meeting.

With that, she turned, and her figure disappeared down the hallway, her footsteps echoing softly in the vast corridor.

Lucius stood still for a moment, his thoughts racing. The encounter had been so unexpected, so fleeting. He couldn’t help but feel the weight of the years between them, the paths they had taken that had led them to such different places. But in that brief moment, it was clear to him that whatever distance had grown between them in the past, it hadn’t erased the connection that still lingered, hidden just beneath the surface.

Later that day, Lucius sat in the sterile, polished offices of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, going over the details of an ongoing case. But his mind was elsewhere, occupied by the encounter with Y/N. He found it difficult to concentrate, to keep his thoughts fixed on the matters at hand. His gaze kept drifting to the corner of his desk, where a small piece of parchment sat, untouched—a note that had arrived earlier that day, courtesy of Y/N’s office. It was a formal request to discuss some bureaucratic matters between their departments, a rather innocuous request in the grand scheme of things. But for Lucius, it was a lifeline—an excuse to see her again.

He hadn’t forgotten the way her smile had made his heart race, how the years seemed to melt away when their eyes met. She was more than just a former acquaintance; she was a reminder of something he had long buried—a part of his past that, despite his best efforts, refused to stay buried.

Lucius sat back in his chair, steeling himself for what would come next. He knew he would have to play the game carefully—after all, Y/N wasn’t just a passing fancy. She was someone who had the potential to change everything. He wasn’t the same man he had been at Hogwarts, and neither was she. But their meeting was proof that the threads of their past hadn’t unraveled completely. There was still something there.

And Lucius Malfoy, despite his carefully curated life and responsibilities, was beginning to wonder if that something was worth exploring.

[theladyismyshepard]

Hi there I haven't requested anything here in almost 2 years now and I won't lie I miss it, so if it's alright can I ask for Astarion and shadowhearts separate reaction to the Reader who is a magic user coming from a different world where magic is seen as a disease and those who have control of it are marked with a lightning like mark on their cheek

(Similar to the bearer mark from FF16)

I actually have a dusty old draft that's been collecting 2 years worth of cobwebs and it's a WIP that haunts me every time I see it when I open my drafts... and that just so happened to be a request of yours @adryanscott... so for you? Anything at all. The outline seems a little different, but bear with me

Tags: Mentions of abuse, torment, descriptions of chronic illness, Bearer enslavement canon to FF universe

Will You Be My Final Fantasy?

You were but a child when the magic lying dormant beneath your skin burst forth, crackling at your fingertips and ready to be cast. You were but a child when you yourself was cast away by your own parents, your entire world shifting upside down when you were sold off to the highest bidder. Gaia did not feel too much like home anymore, not when the people you had come to know as family and friends looked upon you with such disdain. The neck-breaking pace of which you had gone from carefree to chained was a shellshock that you were forced to adapt quickly to lest you learn the lesson of just how expendable you really were to your own people. At first, it had cut you so deep down that it pierced your soul.

Once the branding tattoo had marked the flesh of your cheek to signify the power brewing underneath, you were scorned. The people of Gaia thought you to be diseased and more monster than human. They feared your power and what you might be capable of, so they had come up with the idea of the bearer mark. Not only did it act as a red flag to warn others that you possessed natural magic and that you were owned, it dulled your powers in a painful way that left you with a permanent uncomfortable itch just beneath your skin. No amount of scratching or tearing away at the skin of your cheek would bring you relief, and at first, your struggle provided a great source of amusement for your enslavers until you began slacking on the quality of your duties.

As the years gave way to decades, the fiery fury that fueled your desire to see another day had slowly begun dwindling. You felt as if you yourself was an upturned hourglass, and with each grain of sand that flowed with time, your hope for something better faded with it. All you were living for was an end… an end to your torment, an end to your captors, an end to your miserable existence. You weren’t sure if you’d call yourself lucky or not that your Masters demanded back-breaking physical labor from you rather than casting spells at their convenience. With each draw of your magic, you felt a stiffening in your bones that brought with it a deep chill that was impossible to ward off. Maybe you were diseased…

The day had started as any other had in the past couple decades, with you rising in time with the sun to get prepared for a gruesome day of withering yourself away to nothing. As you glanced up to the sky to watch the first peeks of sunlight bleeding into the blanket of night, you couldn’t help the furrow of your brow when you noticed a small tear. Your lips parted, but as you took a step forward for a closer look to assure yourself that you weren’t hallucinating, there was an audible ripping sound as the tear in the sky widened into a large hole. Before you could even feel fear chill the blood in your veins, there was a gigantic ship soaring through, and across the horizon. You had never seen such a horrific-looking vessel that had long, flowing tentacles such as the one overhead at the moment, and your flight instincts kicked you into overdrive as it veered in your direction.

There was no time to register the long, fluid shadow of the tentacle hovering over you before it struck, and all you could do was watch on in horror as your hands began to disintegrate. First, you lost feeling in your fingers before the cracks broke apart your wrists, leaving nothing in its wake. The disintegration process didn’t take long to travel along the lengths of your forearms and up your biceps, and no amount of harsh gasps of air could pull enough breath into your lungs. You were fading fast. As your arms disappeared, you began to choke on the tightness in your chest before ash peppered your tongue and lodged itself along the walls of your throat. With a final gurgle, your eyes disintegrated and darkness enveloped you until there was nothing left.When you had awoken, you discovered yourself in a world where nearly everyone wielded magic. It was a culture shock that left you reeling, and even though you witnessed open displays of magic, even from some of your own party members, with no repercussions involved, you didn’t feel safe enough to expose yourself for what you were.

Shadowheart –

Even as you found yourself drawn towards Shadowheart, and felt yourself relating to the air of mystery (you understood better than anyone the need to bury the past and never let anyone see), you were so traumatized and so used to being seen as an animal to be used until broken that you could not speak the words. You were too fearful of being cast away yet again.

When Shadowheart had kissed you after revealing some of her own memories, you had tasted the bitterness of both the wine and of your own backstory on your tongue. It was the perfect moment to open up to the cleric, especially when you had never seen her eyes look so soft as they did when they gazed upon you at that moment. She had even asked you about your Bearer’s mark…but panic had seized control over any inklings of rationality you had left, and you had mumbled something about “everyone else had one” and “giving into the peer pressure”… The romantic atmosphere didn’t go any further than that, and you were grateful because the tightness in your chest proved too distracting to properly worship Shadowheart’s body. As you learned more and more of Shadowheart and who she affiliated herself with, you gauged other people’s reactions and deduced that her magic was frowned upon by many.

Her head never ducked beneath the weight of heated gazes sent her direction, and she never faltered at barbed words spat at her. You were in awe of how confident and self-assured she seemed in her worship, and you felt the connection between you two surpassing just your ability to relate. You admired Shadowheart to the point where you wanted to be more like her. You wanted to be free… But as you glanced between the woman you had come to care for and the shackled Nightsong, you couldn’t help thinking that Shadowheart was the true one in chains. To give blood, sweat, and tears your entire life and still have to fight through fire for any scraps of approval… it sounded too close to home for you. And if you yourself could never be free of the chains still holding you to Gaia, you would fight like hell to rid Shadowheart of hers.

You knew talking her down would prove challenging, but what you didn’t expect was how easily you had revealed your magic to the indignant woman. It was the accusation of you being clueless and ignorant spat so venomously at you that did you in. What do I know?! What do you know?! And it was the same moment your irritation boiled over that you remembered that she would never know if you refused to say something. Before she could turn her assault back onto the Nightsong, you sent a wave of your worst memories through your connection, and you were so overwhelmed yourself that you didn’t notice Shadowheart falter.

You can smell the leather of bootstraps as your bones snapped beneath heavy stomps. You can feel the sting of your open wounds rubbed with salts. You can hear the mocking laughter as your body writhes in a pool of your own blood. The stench of your boiled flesh was so pungent that you could almost taste it. There was a gnawing hunger that threatened to eat away at your stomach, and after a while, any thought of food would make you sick enough to dry heave. Through it all, there was the constant heartbeat in your cheek where the mark was tattooed. Sometimes you fear that the poison used in crafting the ink had seeped into your very pores and was burning you from the inside out. You were itchy, and so very stiff… And you couldn’t tell anyone. Keep your pain hidden. No one can help you. They’ll all hate you. You’ll be sent ba–

There were hands cradling your face, and the abrupt touch had you jolting out of your memories. Shadowheart was standing before you with tears welling up in her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. Concern and anger had flared across your connection as she glanced you up and down, desperately searching you for any lingering wounds or scars. Her eyes stopped on the lightning-shaped mark on your cheek, and you felt her thumb trace the skin below it, too hesitant to cause you additional hurt. You hiccuped as you became emotional at finally revealing the extent of your torment to the woman you loved. Your hands were shaking as you reached up to loosely grasp at her wrists, and she curled one hand around the back of your neck to bring your foreheads together.

“Never again,” Shadowheart swore thickly past her own tears, “No one will ever harm you again, not for this, not for anything…”

Your shoulders shook as an impending panic attack loomed over you.

You were taught to be ashamed of who you were, that you were less of a being and deserved the world’s spite just for being alive. You had watched people just like you call upon their magic one time too many, and the stiffness in their bones overtook them and morphed them completely into stone before withering away to dust. You were afraid of yourself for a very long time, and here this woman stood before you with nothing but love and sorrow on her face. Sorrow for what you had gone through, sorrow that you felt forced to hide from her, sorrow for you thinking you were anything less than perfect. She leaned up to place the gentlest kiss you’ve ever felt on your mark, and butterflies filled your stomach as your heart started racing.

“You have always been magnificent… I love you,” Shadowheart insisted earnestly, both of her hands now holding you close by the back of your neck, “And magic or no magic could make me need you any less, I assure you… Could you ever hate me for my magic?”

“Wh- No!” You rush to insist, but your shoulders deflate as her point reaches you… Maybe it was time to finally let yourself believe that you were really out of that place, and you never had to go back.

“I know what it’s like when something is too hard to let yourself believe… but you’ve helped me to see that there just might be the sweetest of rewards in doing so,” Shadowheart said before capturing your lips in a kiss intended to banish all doubt, and when she pulled away, she finally turned back to the Nightsong with nothing but sympathy in her heart.

You watched on in amazement as Shadowheart broke three sets of chains all at the same time.

— — — — — — — —

Astarion —

Despite the fact that a vampire had threatened to kill you in self-defense and still joined your party, you couldn’t bring yourself to fully open up. Each time his silky smooth words were close enough to reach you, your chest would seize up, keeping any and all secrets trapped within. As the weeks turned into months, you and Astarion had grown closer along the dusty trail. You had helped him to feel safe enough to confide in you about Cazador and the torments he had endured by his Master’s hand. You had felt your own misery and pain bubbling within your vocal chords, just begging to be released and revealed to the vampire. If anyone could understand the years of enslavement you had gone through because of your magic, it would be Astarion.

But throughout decades of cruelty, punishment, and humiliation, the one thing you never learned how to endure was being looked at as if you were something to be treasured rather than exploited. You knew where to cover when the blows started coming, you knew how to disassociate when the hunger set in, you knew what it was like to be more dead on the inside than on the outside… But you didn’t know how to react to any display of affection. How were you supposed to respond? You never quite learned how to convey compassion or how to accept it, and all you could do was curse yourself when you’d notice his shoulders slump the tiniest bit before his signature smirk was back in place to hide his own vulnerability.

But you had seen the smallest glimmer of how truly broken Astarion was, and now that you did, there was no unseeing it. Every sugary drawl, every deflecting answer, every flirtatious banter, it was all a facade, one that always seemed two steps away from crumbling. You wanted to help him, to fill in every fissure of his cracked heart with your presence until the very idea of Cazador was gone from his being, but you still felt too diseased yourself. When your fingers itched to reach out and comfort him when you’d notice the foggy haze of the past clouding over his eyes, you’d instead lift them to scratch at your burning bearer’s mark.

And bless him, Astarion had asked you about the tattoo one night after you had let him feed from you. You two were lying side-by-side as you gazed up into the vast blanket of stars, and there was a comfortable silence between you two that had only been broken by the question. He made no immediate comment even though you knew he felt you tense up next to him and you greatly appreciated it, especially knowing his penchant for starting trouble and watching others flounder in it. Before you could even attempt to think quickly on your feet, his hand had snuck down between your bodies to grab yours, and you were the one linking your fingers, squeezing his grip as the tension left your body. Only when he felt you fully relaxed did he assure you that that sounded like a topic better suited for another time. Your clasped hands never let go, even as you two fell asleep.

When your travels had brought the party to Baldur’s Gate, it was a chaotic mess with people wedged into any and every crevice. There were murderous cultists, sneaky thieves, and Astarion’s “sibling” spawns lurking about. The vampire tried his hardest to appear unaffected by the warnings, and he was successful to those on the outside looking in, but the tadpole connection was a deeper rooted relationship that proved nearly impossible to withdraw from. His emotions were a waged war, going back and forth and back again, and you so badly wanted to reach out and grab his hand to comfort him just as he did for you, but you had the same suspicion that this was a topic better suited for another time.

But you felt it, boy did you feel it through your connection… The same haunting feeling that clung to your bones, the chronic illness that stiffened your joints and left you too restrained in your own body, the horrific notion that you would never really belong to yourself, not ever again. Astarion’s back was rigid the entire way to camp, all traces of his charismatic aura gone. He was on edge, and would remain so forever until his Master was defeated, releasing him from the invisible chains still binding him. The rest of the party knew well enough to give him space (though everyone pretty much had their own problems they were in the middle of overcoming), but you would not leave him to wallow in the burning itch to go forth and rip, tear, kill…

You had the sense to bump up the urgency of seeking out Cazador’s lair and striking him down in Astarion’s name… but if he was as powerful as led to believe, and if there would be a chance of losing each other, that night wouldn’t be for Cazador, it would be for you and your love for Astarion, for him and his love for you. If he required a night of distraction to get him to the impending final showdown the next day, you would offer whatever he needed; If he needed blood, if he needed words, if he needed your body… With each gentle kiss that you placed on his skin, he seemed a little less further away. And as you watched him cum and was immediately brought to your own peak as well, you knew then that you would do anything to free this beautiful man.

You let that thought guide you as Astarion was forced under Cazador’s influence once more. The sight of him entrapped in the red beacon of his Master’s control had petrified you. To reach his full Ascension, Cazador had to absorb the special spawns’ life source, reducing them to a pile of ash, and you were paranoid with each attack he unleashed, each time he opened his mouth, that he would utter the spell to take Astarion away from you. When you could no longer withstand the mental torment, you raised your hand, and watched the magic crackle to life at your fingertips. Your cheek was burning, and you could see from your peripheral that your lightning-shaped mark was glowing, but you didn’t let it dissuade you. You were on a mission to save your lover, and you would use everything in your arsenal to do it, including your magic, even if it crystalized you in the process.

Your party members were thoroughly surprised to see you casting spells, but you couldn’t focus on that, not when Cazador was staggering on bended knee before attempting to rush back to his coffin. As Astarion dropped to the ground, he wasted no time in chasing after to peel the lid away before Cazador could begin healing himself. A weight lifted from your own chest when Astarion drove a dagger through his biggest nightmare over and over until his own sobbing pain began bleeding dry. He was free… and you will be, too…

As you stiffly knelt at Cazador’s dead body, right beside Astarion– always beside Astarion– you cupped his cheek with one hand, and grabbed the back of his neck with the other before bringing him into the sweetest of kisses. You scratched at the hairs at the base of his neck and before you could talk yourself out of it, you released all of your memories through your connection. You felt his gasp on your lips, but you pressed on, he deserved to know your biggest secret considering he shared his with you. He needed to know that you saw him… far deeper that he originally knew. You could taste his tears even after he pulled away.

“Oh darling…” Astarion whispered, his throat raw from screaming himself hoarse while boiling over, “I hate that you understand a little more than others… and I hate that such a beautiful soul like yourself has been bruised so heavily.”

You sagged into him before hugging him tightly. He began petting your hair and cooing praises into your ear, pressing an occasional kiss to your forehead every so often. You eventually craned your neck and caught his lips into a kiss, and if he couldn’t sense the love through it, you made sure to spread the warmth through your tadpole connection. His lips curled into a smile wide enough to break the kiss before he collected himself enough to pepper a handful of quick kisses onto your own bashfully grinning mouth.

“You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me–well…” His eyes momentarily cut down to Cazador’s body before meeting yours unwaveringly. “And I would continue to love you lifetimes after you were gone, only hoping you would return to me again someday.”

He dropped a reverent kiss to the back of your hand, brought you into one last searing kiss, and moved to stand, helping you up as he went. Astarion had a way of making you feel so safe and loved, even when exposing yourself, your body and your secrets. He would always assure you that he has his own skeletons in his closet… but at least they were finely dressed might he add.