#they monologue and everything and it makes me grin every time

[a-simple-spiders-oc-dump]

NEW AND IMPROVED INFO ON UNIVERSE 1 AND THE FUNNY LITTLE GUYS WHO LIVE THERE

I decided to make an update to the original info post I made, since I changed the canon a lot since I made it. Plus, the old one was based on an even older character doc that didn't go into very much detail and omitted a few decently major characters. So, what the hell!! New year new info.

THE BASIC PREMISE:

A young sorta-goddess named Alice was born alongside her own personal pocket dimension to rule over and expand at her leisure. After many years of this, Alice decides she wants to make the perfect friend for herself, but in creating Mikayla, she accidentally makes her perfect nightmare instead. Mikayla turns against her creator, forming a pact with the monstrous Breaks to act as their commander in exchange for her world's eventual destruction, and Alice does not have the strength to create her own army to oppose them. In desperation, Alice turns her sights back to the Earth she was born to, and begins to build her army a different way - with the souls of those who died young and unhappy. The story follows the humans trapped in Alice's domain as they fight to survive in the hopes of one day thriving in this strange new world, while still struggling to deal with the scars from their pasts. The main story takes place sometime around 2016-2018.

SOME WARNINGS: mentions of death, abuse, school shootings, human experimentation, body horror, murder, bullying, car crashes and suicide. none of these will be discussed in depth (outside of the death part, since I will be mentioning how each of Alice’s soldiers died, and potentially the body horror part when it comes to describing Alice's guards), and will only be briefly mentioned, but I felt it was worth adding this warning nonetheless. let me know if there’s anything else I should add to this warnings list, and I’ll make sure to add that warning both to this and any future piece that may contain that particular content.

NOTABLE TERMS:

Authors - Someone with power over a Realm. The name is a shortened version of the word “authority”, as well as the term 'author/auteur' as used to refer to the primary creator of different forms of art. They look like normal people in their home worlds, but are reality-warping gods in their Realms. They can either be born this way (Founding Authors) or can be turned into an Author by a different Author (Inherited Authors). If an Author dies and hasn’t selected anyone to be their ‘heir’, their Realm crumbles and dies. The term has some variations - Alice, for example, refers to herself as an ‘Authoress’ as a more fancy and feminine version of it - though ‘Author’ itself is considered a gender-neutral term. They have a tendency to become fixated on making specific types of objects/creatures, and they become more and more powerful the more they create, though if they use their abilities too much too quickly, their bodies can begin to auto-cannibalize themselves similar to starvation in order to keep feeding their powers.

Realms - Miniature universes created by an Author’s birth, sometimes considered to be the Author’s twin. They are sentient to some extent, though are so different from most lifeforms that they cannot communicate aside from puppeteering creatures (usually Creations) to do their bidding. Their Author(s) keeps them stable, and if the only Author dies without picking a replacement, they do too. The majority of the story takes place in one of these Realms (exceptions being prequel short stories that take place on Earth). 

Creations - Living creatures made by Authors to serve a specific role in their Realms. Creations are given a ‘purpose’ by their Author that forms the backbone of their identities, which can range from specific tasks they must fulfill to simply live however they choose. Aside from that, they can look like practically anything, and their mindsets can range dramatically from "exists only to perform this particular task with no individual personality to speak of" to "smarter than a human with a clear and defined sense of identity". Think of them as biological robots - some are closer to androids in sci-fi media, while others are more similar to roombas, but they're all classified under the same umbrella.

Breaks - Hive monsters that spawn in the void between worlds, meant to be one part training and one part punishment for Authors who break the Unspoken Rules (which are unspoken because no one really knows what they are). They can form pacts with Real creatures as well as Creations to grant them powers in exchange for the individual becoming the focal point of their hive mind, and want nothing more than to devour Realms from the insides out. 

Life Force - The energy that keeps all living creatures alive. Humans are the baseline, with a reasonable amount of Life Force that can allow for bursts of incredible strength, speed and mental processing when in life-threatening situations; Creations have about half to three-quarters the Life Force of a human, as they typically do not need to ever use it and all of their Life Force must be provided by their Author when they're created; and Authors have the abilities they do because they have an abnormal amount of Life Force that only grows larger and larger the longer they live, and the ability to manipulate it at will. Life Force can only be drained by either using abilities that require Life Force, or by spending time in a universe that is not your own. If drained, the affected creature will grow more and more emaciated before beginning to decay alive.

CHARACTERS IN THE REALM/UNIVERSE 1:

(please note that even after all this time, a lot of these guys don’t have fully solid designs - I’m more of a writer than an artist and character designs don’t mean much when you’re not using a visual medium lol. I have at least vague ideas on how all of them look and I do want to give those ocs with less solid looks permanent designs in the future, but for now???? ehhhhhhhhhhhh I’d rather focus on the writing part lmao)

THE NEWCOMERS

Lydia

Age: 16 (nearly 17)

Role in the story: Protagonist

Appearance: Chubby girl with long, wavy blonde hair, warm-toned beige skin and blue eyes. Around 5'5-5'8. Wears a long, loose grey t-shirt with cut-out shoulders and a distinctive blue butterfly design with diamond-like wings on the bottom-left corner. This matches her prized necklace, which always hangs around her neck on a long chain, and her hairclip that pins the left side of her hair out of her eyes.

Rapid-fire personality info: -One of the two protagonists of the main story.

-Calm and friendly, always trying to see the best in others. Her life's motto is very much "hope for the best and prepare for the worst".

-Deeply committed to helping people, even at the expense of her own health - definitely fits the “paragon” archetype and will do anything if she thinks it’s for the good of those around her.

-Wanted to be a therapist someday so that she could improve peoples’ lives, and reads about psychology often in pursuit of that goal. She still wants to find a way to make use of her knowledge in her new situation, but isn’t sure how.

-Grew up moving from town to town after her mother passed away from a terminal illness; as such, she’s gotten very good at reading people and figuring out what makes them tick. (She’s not always as right about them as she thinks she is, though.)

-Feels her emotions intensely, and often cries when overwhelmed or scared, much to her own frustration.

-Can’t handle horror well at ALL, which makes it all the harder for her to adjust to her new life in the Realm. She never quite gets used to Alice’s side of the Realm, preferring to stick closer to the Soldier’s Camp.

-Just wants things to be okay and for everyone to be safe and sound. This is a much more complicated goal than it sounds, but by god is she determined to give it her best shot!

-Outside of reading about things like grief counseling and psychological disorders, she enjoys photography and doing little DIY projects to decorate her living space with; definitely the type to have one of those strings of Polaroids in her room that all the old aesthetic blogs back in 2013 loved.

-Has the ability to see the memories of others through her dreams. Big side effect is that whatever memory she brings up will be re-experienced by the memory’s owner while she does so, and considering almost everyone in the Realm has some sort of trauma, she needs to be careful what she makes them re-live. She also hates it in general because she really doesn’t want to breach her new friends’ privacy, but she doesn’t have a choice in the matter.

-Died in a car crash.

SINCLAIR HELLSPARK!

Age: 16

Role in the story: Protagonist

Appearance: Dresses more like they’re from an RPG than the same Earth Alice’s soldiers came from, or at least as close to that as they could get from the local thrift shop. (Dress for the world you want, not the world you have!) The most prominent part of their outfit is a long, slightly oversized brown leather trench coat that goes halfway down Sinclair’s calves, with a strip of red cloth pinned underneath the jacket’s collar roll to mimic a cape. The coat is left open to reveal a black t-shirt and black pants underneath, the latter being ragged at the bottom hems, with a pair of brown combat boots. (I could also see them drawing fake magic circles and runes and shit on the inside of their jacket or down the sides of their pants in gold fabric paint.) They wear a belt around their waist (unconnected to their pants) with a couple of satchels on it to store things, mostly small trinkets and snacks they’ve “borrowed” over time.

Rapid fire info: -One of the two protagonists of the main story.

-Boisterous, loud-mouthed, and generally seen as a pretty cheerful person, though they can also come across as a bit overwhelming and annoying without realizing; a large ham through and through.

-Grew up in a neglectful household and were never quite able to make friends. After a bit, they gave up on trying to get people to like them (kind of) (not really) (they tell themself that, anyway) and decided to just get real weird with it in a way they personally find cool.

-Likes to proclaim that they’re a powerful sorcerer, blessed by the spirit of a dragon to seek out the world’s oddities and protect the innocent with their powers and wit; they will threaten to curse people they don’t like and claim to cast blessings on people who are nice to them, though these never have any effect. Sinclair knows it’s bullshit but it’s FUN bullshit so they don’t plan to stop any time soon.

-Has a bit of Main Character Syndrome, fully believing that their life can and will play out like a story. They try to be genre-savvy in real life and have a tendency to assign character archetypes to people around them, no matter how little they fit that role. (For example, within an hour of meeting Lydia, Sinclair declares that she MUST be their rival.)

-Impulsive; they tend to leap before they look and don’t give enough thought as to how their actions might affect people around them. They’re prone to bouts of arrogance and can’t stand being underestimated.

-Genuinely wanted to get trapped in another world before ending up in the Realm, and are one of the few people to take to the Realm like a duck to water, though they quickly learn to be careful what they wish for.

-LOVES cryptozoology and parapsychology; their back-up dream if they didn’t get isekai’d was to start a cryptid-hunting TV show. They start off as sort of a bit of an overbearing fan towards Gamma, since he’s a figure in local urban legends where Sinclair once lived and they’re overjoyed to learn he’s actually real.

-Sinclair may be cringe but Sinclair is free.

-Died in a car crash.

ALICE’S INNER CIRCLE (+ Mikayla)

Alice

Age: somewhere around 14

Role in the story: Secondary character; an integral figure in the backstory

Appearance: Takes the form of an adorable young girl the majority of the time, with skin that both looks and feels oddly reminiscent of candle wax, owlish brown eyes and straight black hair that falls to her waist. She wears an opulent, knee-length dress reminiscent of a kid’s princess/queen costume. It has a square neckline, puffed sleeves with strips of brown fabric falling to her wrists, corset lacing in the shape of a heart on her stomach, a grey sash tied around her waist in a bow on her back, and brown skirt split in the center to reveal layers of translucent yellow fabric, surrounded by gold embroidery. Sometimes, Alice's soldiers have claimed to see her hair or pieces of her outfit move on their own. This is somehow one of the least weird things about her.

Rapid fire info: -Created the Realm and has god-like powers of reality-warping and creation; she refuses to let anyone forget either of these facts.

-Childish, and acts either cheerful or annoyed about 90% of the time.

-Callous and selfish, often disregarding human suffering as ‘not her problem’ despite being one of the very few people actively bringing them to her world in the first place; generally dislikes humans and especially adults (outside of Gamma, who looks and behaves like one), refusing to allow them into her home; she’d likely do this for all humans if not for the current situation.

-The only person she seems to care about besides herself is Gamma, owing to the long history the two share together and the deep trust that’s formed as a result, which tends to surprise people thanks to the two of them seeming like complete opposites. Gamma helps Alice work through her ideas and points out flaws in her plans, especially when it comes to aspects of humanity Alice is blind to; in return, Alice makes Gamma things she thinks will make him happy and helps to keep him grounded on difficult days, even if she doesn’t fully understand what he’s going through.

-Experiments with her powers for fun, with her most common experiment being the creation of a living creature without really paying attention and then taking it apart while it’s still alive to see what she got wrong. (This is essentially the Author equivalent of life drawing. Still more gruesome than it needs to be, though!)

-Hates admitting things that she sees as a blight on her reputation as an Author (i.e. caring about people, feeling emotions other than joy and rage, wanting to do things other than create, being wrong, etc.), as she takes great pride in her status.

-Morphs into a much less friendly looking version of herself when pissed off, and is prone to having her skin melt like she’s a wax figure when sufficiently annoyed. Even in her ‘normal’ form, her skin is noticeably cold, as though she’s a living corpse, and she often grins with a few more teeth than humans should have.

-She’s basically a weird little girl who was given god-like powers by chance and then let loose on the multiverse.

-If she dies, something terrible will happen…

Mikayla

Age: Has existed for 4 years (behaves and is generally treated like she’s in her late teens/early twenties)

Role in the story: Primary antagonist; an integral figure in the backstory

Appearance: Has replaced her face with a white, porcelain mask decorated with red swirls, and does not appear to have any hair. Her skin tone matches Alice’s - pale like candle wax - though it’s mostly covered by a long, hooded, ivory cloak and the black, veined bodysuit underneath that holds her body together as she regenerates. She’s probably around 5'8-5'10.

Rapid fire info: -Alice’s Creation, meant to be the perfect friend; unfortunately, to Alice this meant ‘basically a carbon copy of myself but taller’, which wound up backfiring horribly once Mikayla learned that she didn’t share Alice’s level of control over the Realm while still sharing Alice’s massive ego.

-Cut off her face to seal her pact with the Breaks, who gave her regenerative powers and limited ability to use portals; now wears a porcelain mask as a replacement face, and uses her cloak to mask her limbs as they regrow.

-Extremely manipulative, and does not take being told “no” well; she’s a massive control freak and tends to lash out without remorse when someone goes against her wishes.

-Switches personas on a whim, going from calm and collected to rage-fueled screaming on a hair trigger when she thinks it will keep people in line. She's very unpredictable as a result, and her soldiers walk on eggshells around her in a vain attempt to keep her from lashing out at them.

-Has a personal grudge against Alice, since Mikayla views Alice simply being alive as both a threat and an insult, and Gamma, since he made many attempts to stop her from achieving her goal to kill Alice. As such, she will do whatever she can to torment and torture them - especially Gamma, as a punishment for him not joining her mutiny.

-She’s basically the most destructive kind of sadism in humanoid form. Just an awful person who takes pleasure in hurting anyone she views as a potential enemy - including those on her own side, if she thinks it will keep them under her thumb.

-Has died at least three times before the main story starts. Unfortunately, this hasn’t stopped her.

Gamma

Age: Has existed for around 8 years (behaves and is generally treated like an adult)

Role in the story: Deuteragonist; a mentor figure for Sinclair; an integral figure in the backstory

Appearance: Very tall (around 6'7-6'10), extremely pale (to the point where other characters’ narrations have remarked he looks like he’s never gone out in the sun in his life), and muscular by necessity for his job. Has black hair that’s always slicked back to his head and golden eyes that never blink with noticeable dark circles underneath. Wears a black suit with a white dress shirt and golden tie underneath. While the suit repairs itself after fights, the lapels and wrists of his sleeves are permanently tattered due to his jacket being a prototype by Alice (Alice could make him a better one now, but he got attached to the original, much to Alice’s chagrin - it’s like a family member hanging an old piece of art you did in high school in their living room to her). His skin on his arms and legs is a slightly different shade from the skin on his head and torso.

Rapid fire info: -A Creation whose guiding purpose is to protect Alice and her Realm; this quickly extended to the human soldiers once he learned how fragile they truly were. He’s tasked himself with keeping an eye on Alice’s other guards to make sure they’re doing their jobs properly, too. 

-Also in charge of the transportation of the dead teenagers from their world to the Realm. Most of the soldiers don’t like associating with him due to this fact, and a good chunk of them outright despise him for being the one to directly trap them in this place.

-Reserved, serious, and excessively secretive. That last part is largely because he’s not one hundred percent sure what does and does not unnerve humans, and so he tends to hide information he thinks might cause them distress, even if it ends up being something benign.

-Constantly researching things like anthropology, sociology, psychology and history just for fun, since he finds Earth absolutely fascinating. It’s basically an alien planet to him, and he has a deep respect for its inhabitants. Alice has joked on occasion that he’d start a human fanclub “if he had ten percent less dignity and anyone who’d join it.”

-One of the few people Alice views as something close to an equal, which is more than anybody else can say. This is due to their long history together, which according to Gamma, includes her saving his life numerous times, and led to him becoming her bodyguard to return the favour.

-Has been through Some Shit before the wars even began, and his mental health is incredibly poor as a result; he blames himself whenever things go wrong in the Realm out of reflex, tends to have extreme fight-or-flight responses to perceived threats, has a self-esteem in the negatives and copes by being almost fanatically devoted to his given role compared to Alice’s other guards. Most notably, he seems to fall into extreme panic when surrounded by the colour teal…

-Seems to have some odd abilities that it’s assumed Alice gave him, since he’s much stronger than a normal human and has a tendency to know things he really has no right knowing (the latter is thanks to him constantly hearing the thoughts of everyone around him; it’s less of a power to him and more like a sense. He fully believed this was a Normal Human Experience for most of his life, and when he learned the humans weren’t letting him read their thoughts willingly, it freaked him out badly enough that he suppressed this ability as best as he could manage, to the point where all he hears now are muted whispers unless he directly ‘tunes in’.)

-Is absolutely bewildered by Sinclair not only tolerating him but actually seeming to enjoy his presence, and he warms up to them over the course of the story.

-this man has so much going on with him I swear to fuck. he's kind of the default protagonist for anything taking place before Lydia and Sinclair show up on the timeline, and he’ll probably be in a LOT of the prompt fills lmao

-Hasn’t died yet, despite the universe’s best attempts.

ALICE'S SOLDIERS

Cynthia

Age: 17

Role in the story: Secondary character, somewhat of a mentor figure for Lydia and Sinclair; an integral figure in the backstory

Appearance: No solid outfit design just yet. (Her old outfit was designed when I was around 14 years old and included a t-shirt that said ’#SWAG’ on it. I wish I was fucking joking.) What I know for now is she has olive-toned skin and a bob hair cut, dyed a dark blue/indigo, along with grey, almost silver eyes. She likely has a muscular build out of necessity, and probably wears something simple and easy to move in in case of a surprise attack.

Rapid fire info: -Co-leader of the Soldier’s Camp; also one of the very first humans in the Realm.

-Used to be somewhat snarky with a heart of gold shining through, but the massacre that was the First Break War made her withdraw to the point that she’s become extremely stoic.

-Asked Alice to remove her memories of her past life during the First Break War so they wouldn’t hold her back; some suspect Alice took a little more than just that.

-Hard to read, and comes off as cold to most people, only really opening up to Dylan since they went through the First Break War together, and forged a deep trust as a result. She’s usually the one to push him to go and rest when he starts putting too much on his shoulders (and he’s usually quick to point out how hypocritical it is for her of all people to say this, lmao)

-Focuses mostly on strategy, supplies and upkeep of the camp while Dylan takes care of the human element. Extremely practical and a bit of a workaholic, to the point of requesting a murphy bed for her bedroom so she could use it as an office (with her reasoning being, “there’s no point in having two separate rooms when one could serve the same purpose.”).

-Is responsible for multiple quality of life features for the Camp in some way, including walkie-talkies the soldiers can use to warn everyone of potential attacks and repurposing some areas of the under-populated camp to be for storage of emergency supplies. Spends much of her time considering what she could request to improve things further.

-Almost all the soldiers see her as the Realm’s ultimate authority figure due to her strict nature - considering Dylan’s more relaxed attitude and Alice being… well, Alice - though some (like Morgan and Sydney) aren’t afraid to talk back to her if they feel like it.

-Deeply despises Gamma for reasons even she doesn’t fully understand; it seems to stem from the time right before she got her mind-wipe. He’s the only person she’ll actively lash out against, and he never so much as protests.

-Has a love of music, and if she isn’t busy working to make sure the camp has everything it needs to keep everyone happy and healthy, she can typically be found in her room, listening to music on a pair of headphones and tuning out the world. (Though, naturally, she keeps her walkie-talkie on her at all times in case of emergencies.)

-Her cause of death is unknown, though it’s assumed she was stabbed or impaled in some way due to her death scar (a large, jagged cut just below her ribcage).

Dylan

Age: 18

Role in the story: Secondary character, mentor figure for Lydia

Appearance: No solid design just yet. What I know for now is that he has sepia/brown skin, short hair, and mostly wears a faded blue hoodie over a black t-shirt and a pair of navy blue jeans. (Outfit might change with time)

Rapid fire info: -Co-leader of the Soldier’s Camp.

-Generally a relaxed, optimistic person who does his best to keep the morale of the camp high; he’s basically what Lydia wishes she could be, and he quickly takes her under his wing once he realizes how much she reminds him of both himself and Cynthia when they first arrived.

-Helps newcomers get settled in the Camp, and acts as mediator for disagreements; some joke that he’s essentially the camp’s HR guy, or sarcastically call him the “Camp’s Counselor”. Most of the younger members look up to him like an older brother, and it’s a role he’s happily taken to (largely as a way to cope with missing his family from Earth deeply - especially his younger sister, Dawn, who he was once very close with).

-Doesn’t talk about his own problems much to avoid troubling people, though most are aware that he gets severe anxiety upon hearing gunshots and will warn him if a movie or game will contain them. Everyone in the camp thinks he came out of the First Break War unscathed because of this, since he doesn't really show any signs of trauma from it. He absolutely did not.

-One of the few who spoke with Gamma before they died; as such, he’s one of the few soldiers who isn’t all that intimidated by his presence, and often goes to speak with Alice and Gamma on the camp’s behalf. One of his weekly chores is to just gather everyone’s requests and bring them to Alice’s Manor, since he’s the only one willing to do it.

-Used to be in the swim team in his school and played in a band with his two best friends - Tyler and Kieran - since the beginning of high school (he did guitar and backup vocals). He was also often among the top five highest-scoring students in many of his classes. Unfortunately, most of these skills and achievements are completely useless in the Realm, much to his chagrin.

-Still enjoys playing the guitar and regularly requests sheet music to learn new songs in his free time, as well as coming up with new ones on his own. Sometimes, he plays for Cynthia while they’re relaxing. He knows all of her favourite songs by heart at this point.

-Died in a school shooting.

Morgan

Age: 18

Role in the story: Secondary character

Rapid fire info: -Medic for the Soldier’s Camp

Appearance: Has albinism, so her hair is a very pale grey (long, but often pulled back into a bun, with lash-grazing bangs), her skin is pale and pinkish, and her eyes are red (which is actually very uncommon for people with albinism, but considering her spite towards Alice… Yeah, they weren’t always that colour). She’s noticeably tall compared to the others - probably around 5'10 - 6'1. She wears a plain white t-shirt with pale grey jeans under a long, burgundy cardigan that falls to the back of her knees in a silhouette similar to a lab coat. Her fingers and lips are permanently discolored from her death, stuck a greyish-blue.

Rapid-fire personality info: -Both a soldier and the senior of the camp’s two medics; she wants to give up her medical duties to stick to solely fighting instead, but she can’t bring herself to dump those responsibilities solely on Trinity’s shoulders.

-Had a rough upbringing where she was put under constant pressure to succeed that burnt her out, and the First Break War killed the last remnants of any optimism Morgan once had; now, she’s resentful towards the world and everyone in it for her shitty circumstances, lashing out at anyone who dares come close to her when she’s in a bad mood (which she nearly always is).

-Known for her sharp tongue, harsh criticisms of others, and tendency to estimate to newcomers’ faces how long she thinks they’ll live - usually no longer than a month - giving her a reputation for being cold and cruel. The twins have nicknamed her “The Ice Queen” because of this.

-At the same time, she is the most skilled soldier the Realm has, considering her incredible combat skill and her high amount of medical knowledge, and she works tirelessly to maintain that status; a perfectionist to her core, Morgan cannot stand being “only” second best.

-Has an ongoing feud with Sydney due to their clashing worldviews - Morgan believing Sydney’s a complete idiot who’s destined to get herself (and possibly others) killed with her thrill-seeking, Sydney believing Morgan’s a killjoy who’s dead set on making a shitty situation even shittier, especially for the newcomers who are already in an incredibly stressful position. Neither are entirely wrong, but neither are entirely right either.

-Is unlikely friends with Trinity, due to Morgan appreciating her dedication to her unwanted role and far better bedside manners, and Morgan does her best to keep her abrasive side to a minimum around Trinity to keep the kid from getting scared of her. Every day, Morgan resents the fact that Trinity ended up in the Realm at all, and she’ll do whatever it takes to keep her from suffering any more than she already has. (There might be a little projection happening there...)

-Isn’t afraid to get her hands dirty if it ends the war faster; to Morgan, the ends ALWAYS justify the means, especially if that end is a future where no one in the camp needs to suffer anymore.

-In what little downtime she allows herself, Morgan can usually be found reading fantasy novels in the camp’s library. Every now and again she’ll also paint with Trinity, if the kid invites her.

-Died of hypothermia

Sydney

Age: 16

Role in the story: Secondary character

Appearance: Has sort of amber-toned skin that’s patched with burn scars from her death, most prominently covering much of the right side of her head and almost the entirety of her hands and forearms. Since the right side of her head can’t grow much hair anymore, her short brown hair is styled into a comb-over, and she has light brown, orange-toned eyes. Wears a black leather jacket over a yellow shirt (which likely has some sort of flame pattern on it that gets covered up by the jacket) and shorts with spiked studs on the left side, with purposefully-ripped black leggings underneath.

Rapid fire info: -A former delinquent with a love of fire who fights Breaks with a nailbat (and occasionally flamethrowers) for the thrill of it all.

-The most Chaotic Good member of the team by far; she doesn’t give a shit about any rules if it means having a great time with her friends. She's decided that if she's stuck in a bad situation, then she's gonna have fun with it and live each day like it's her last.

-Has the most prominent death-scars of any of Alice’s soldiers, and while she was pretty self-conscious of them when she first arrived, she doesn’t really care anymore, proudly wearing outfits that have them on full display. It’s half posturing to make herself seem more badass, and half Sydney trying to show newcomers that their scars are nothing to feel ashamed of.

-An adrenaline junkie at heart. When there aren’t enough Breaks to fight, Sydney will start doing stupid stunts to get the same rush, much to Morgan’s intense chagrin; this directly led to their ongoing animosity in the Main Story.

-Helps train newcomers alongside Dylan; newcomers often see her as a cool big sister figure, but don’t tend to look up to her as much as they look up to Dylan, thanks to Sydney discouraging it and being far more irresponsible in general. 

-She’s kind of the “if I just keep moving at all times then my problems can never catch me!!” type, and tries not to dwell on bad situations any longer than it takes for her to make a shitty joke about them.

-Has always had a certain love for fire, but the stressors of the Realm have turned it into honest pyromania; it’s well-known that when Sydney’s under a lot of stress or incredibly pissed off, she’ll gather random shit and start a bonfire somewhere out in the forest. She is single-handedly responsible for Alice forest-fire-proofing the woods around the camp.

-Is good friends with Troy and Bianca, and she often shirks her duties to hang out with them. They can often be found either in the Main Hall’s living room area watching movies, or in the Hall’s hidden rec room playing different party games with them. (Sydney adores action movies and fighting games the most, along with FPS games.)

-Died in a house fire.

Trinity

Age: 13

Role in the story: Secondary character

Appearance: Looks even younger than her age, with many newcomers mistaking her for being 10 or 11. Has fawn, freckled skin, and dirty blonde hair that’s always pulled into a tight braid over her shoulder, along with deep green eyes. Wears a short/cuffed-sleeve, green button-up shirt with a darker green scarf covering her entire neck, and khaki shorts with cuffs that just barely scrape the tops of her knees.

Rapid fire info: -A girl who turned out to be a medical prodigy, brought into the Realm when they needed medics most - which is all very convenient, isn’t it? :) As of the 'present day’ in story, she’s the junior of the two medics. 

-Extremely timid around people - especially strangers - due to a history of severe bullying; it can take a newcomer weeks to hear her voice for the first time. However, she takes comfort in helping others and is prone to showing a slightly more confident side of herself when doing her job due to the sense of agency it provides her.

-Very self conscious of the bruise on her neck left by her death, often hiding it with a green scarf that also acts as something of a comfort item to her.

-Since she’s easily the youngest and most fragile member of the camp, all of Alice’s soldiers are extremely protective of her, doing whatever they can to keep her away from danger - Morgan especially so, to the point where she’s known to push Trinity away from people who may be dying so that Trinity doesn’t blame herself later if they do pass on. 

-Tries to push Morgan to be less of a jerk to everyone around her; this works, but only when Trinity’s around, much to Trinity’s chagrin. Still, Trinity hopes that one day, Morgan can find some semblance of happiness, or at least peace. 

-When she’s not in the infirmary, Trinity can be found either in her cabin painting, or in the greenhouse with her sketchbook. Natural landscapes and plants are her favourite subjects, and working on art helps to soothe her nerves. She’s pretty good at it for her age, too! Morgan’s cabin is full of her artwork, and she’s also given a couple pieces to Dylan and the twins. 

-Died after falling out of a tree. 

Troy

Age: 15

Role in the story: Secondary character

Appearance: I’ll be honest, I have basically nothing for this kid. I know he probably has shaggy ginger hair, and pale, freckled skin. He’s also probably pretty scrawny. That’s it. That’s all I’ve got for now. I kind of just imagine him as your average freshman tbh, lol

Rapid fire info: -Bianca’s twin brother

-The Realm’s only marksman, due to both how close-quarters Break combat tends to be, and due to Alice not wanting to constantly be using her energy to create ammo (and also to limit the amount of people who can kill her from long-range, should that ever become a problem). He uses specially-made airsoft guns that shoot pellets containing an Alice-made substance; it’s harmless towards humans with a sedative effect after around three to five shots, but an extremely potent acid when used on Breaks. This is largely due to the other soldiers fighting with melee weapons, along with one of their best fighters (Dylan) having trauma surrounding firearms; these guns were specifically made to look and sound different enough that they don’t set off any triggers for him while still being effective long-range weapons, though they do still make Dylan nervous to be around. 

-Troy prefers machines and weapons to people; he can often be found tinkering with various devices around the camp or maintaining his guns to ensure they’re in tip-top shape. Meanwhile, he's often a bit awkward around people, especially those he's unfamiliar with, stumbling on his words and overthinking everything he says.

-The Resident Gamer of the group, with a particular love for retro arcade games. The most likely place to find him is in the camp’s hidden rec room, trying again and again to beat the nigh-impossible high scores Alice sets on each of the arcade cabinets when she makes them. He’s also a fan of FPSes and fighting games, and he and Sydney can spend hours competing to see which of them is the best. 

-Has a bit of social anxiety not helped by Bianca pushing people away from the two of them, nor the fact that they were killed by a classmate who seemed perfectly harmless and friendly at first, giving him some trust issues that he keeps firmly under wraps. 

-Knows he’s a bit boring compared to his sister and their best friend (Sydney), and it bothers him constantly, but he does his best not to let it show. He cares about both of them deeply in spite of this, especially Bianca - despite everything that's happened, she's still the closest person in his life.

-Knows that Bianca has issues due to their deaths, but doesn’t know just how bad those issues are, nor how to properly help her with them; he just does his best to be there for her and hopes it’s enough. (It’s not.) 

-Generally just wants to make the best of the shitty situation he and his sister have been dropped in and stop the wars for good.

-Died by being stabbed three times in the chest.

Bianca

Age: 15

Role in the story: Secondary character

Appearance: Has shoulder-length, ginger hair often pulled into two short pigtails, along with pale, freckled skin and green eyes. Wears a large headbow shaped like a bat, along with a short-sleeved, almost retro-looking, knee-length, plain black dress with a red belt. The belt holds a large pocket knife, as well as a small sack full of throwing knives, in case of an emergency.

Rapid fire info: -Troy’s twin sister

-She and Troy were killed in the same incident - one that Bianca feels responsible for, as she’s the one who trusted their killer the most. Not only that, but she was forced to watch her brother die while being helpless to do anything to stop it. This has led her to become severely over-protective of Troy and extremely paranoid that anyone around them could turn out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing without warning. 

-Acts cheerful and air-headed around other members of the camp despite this; while part of it is a ploy to get people to underestimate her, it’s mostly genuine - a bit of her old self peeking through the cracks. 

-Has a fixation on knives as a result of her death, seeing them as something powerful, but only as long as they’re in her hands. She’s even been known to threaten people she sees as threats to Troy at knifepoint, though she’s never followed through when called on her bluff. If anyone else wields a knife against her, she panics, sometimes even to the point of passing out.

-Came to trust Sydney after one such incident, where Sydney made it crystal clear to Bianca that she wasn’t about to hurt either of the twins. Looks up to the older soldier quite a bit, and she’s the only person Bianca full-heartedly trusts to be alone with Troy. 

-Was just beginning to really experiment with aesthetics when she died, and while keeping her brother around is her number-one priority, she loves to DIY new decorations for her cabin and often requests different clothing from Alice. 

-Died by being stabbed multiple times in the abdomen.

MIKAYLA'S SOLDIERS 

Dawn

Age: 18

Role in the story: Secondary antagonist

Appearance: I don’t have much for her just yet. What I know for now is that she has sepia/brown skin, eyes that are so dark brown they’re nearly black, has long hair tied into several braids tucked into a ponytail, and probably wears entirely black. I like the idea of her wearing a caplet of some kind. 

Rapid-fire info: -Mikayla’s first success in creating a ‘general’ for her army, through a torturous process that involved trapping Dawn in a series of ever-worsening nightmares that only Mikayla’s intervention would save her from. (Fun fact! This is heavily inspired by a pixel animation on YouTube called Marenol, as well as the song O Light by KikuoHana.) 

-Much like Cynthia, her experiences have left her severely withdrawn and seemingly emotionless, though Dawn is much more apathetic and blunt. She’s become a woman of few words, only speaking in short, clipped sentences when necessary. 

-Has grown resentful of her brother, Dylan, as after his death she felt he had to fill his shoes to keep her family happy; considering that Dylan was naturally gifted in a lot of different areas, this led to Dawn spiraling when she couldn’t live up to those same lofty expectations. 

-Half-believes Mikayla when she says the Soldier’s Camp is inhabited by Alice’s Creations and not real humans; as such, Dawn can be ruthless and cunning on the battlefield, though she hesitates to actually kill anyone. 

-Is deeply terrified of Mikayla, largely because she knows full well that Mikayla could trap her back in the looping nightmares at any point if she messes up. 

-Once each sibling learns that the other is in the Realm, they’re gonna be in for a rough time… 

-I don't have much for her yet, largely because I really wasn't sure what to do with her before this rewrite.

-Committed suicide. 

The Oracle

Age: 17

Role in the story: Secondary antagonist/character 

Appearance: A malnourished girl with unruly brown hair who wears a long white nightgown at all times. Her body is wrapped with bandages, the most notable of which being around her eyes; taking the facial bandages off is not recommended, as it typically results in the Oracle shrieking until they’re returned. 

Rapid-fire info: -A failed experiment of Mikayla’s to get a human to use Life Force the way an Author can, largely in order to create someone capable of seeing into the future. In some ways, she did succeed, though she absolutely destroyed the Oracle’s mind in the process. 

-The Oracle has lost all sense of self, forgetting her past life entirely and becoming incapable of truly perceiving the present when she isn’t being directly spoken to. As a meager form of coping, the Oracle has dedicated herself entirely to the idea of ‘destiny’, viewing it almost like a god. 

-Seems to view Lydia as a kindred spirit, which freaks Lydia out a bit. It makes her worry that her own powers could end up leaving her in a similar state (though that’s largely because Lydia doesn’t know what exactly led to the Oracle’s powers). 

-There isn’t too much to say about the Oracle, largely thanks to her playing a small role in the story and her lacking much in the way of personal agency for much of it due to her circumstances. 

-Cause of death unknown; assumed to be suicide. 

ALICE’S TEAM OF GUARDS: 

The Serpent

Age: Has been around for about three years. 

Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol

Appearance: A massive snake made of dark grey stone, about twenty feet long, with a human-like hand where the tip of its tail should be that it uses to hold onto the door to Alice’s Garden. It has two curved horns on the top of its head and a mouth full of sharp, stalactite-esque teeth. Its eyes glow different colours based on the feedback it's received; in its neutral state they’re light purple, when a riddle has been answered correctly they glow red (because Alice wanted to fuck with people, basically), and when someone has failed its test they glow bright green. 

Rapid-fire info: -A living security system Alice set up over the door to her manor. At first, the Serpent only tested a creature’s ability to speak before allowing them passage, but Mikayla proceeded to alter the Breaks so a few could mimic human speech, so Alice altered it to tell riddles instead. If you fail three times, you’re eaten alive, and while it does slowly assimilate its victims into the raw meat that makes up its insides, any unfortunate human consumed would die of dehydration due to how long this process takes. Thankfully, Alice can typically figure out if a human’s been eaten within a day or so, and will usually get the Serpent to spit them out. She won’t help with the acid burns, though - that’s not her problem as far as she’s concerned.

-Largely lacks a personality, as it doesn’t require it to do its job. However, it does seem to have some opinions, as it respects Gamma quite a bit as the lead guard and has a mild distaste for the gargoyles’ antics. 

-Will gladly answer questions asked to it (once its riddle is solved, of course), though its answers can be cryptic and lead to even further questions. 

-Is the main reason Alice’s soldiers really don’t like visiting her manor, since it freaks them the hell out (and to be fair, the threat of being eaten alive would do that to most people). 

The Gargoyles (El and Ar) 

Age: About three years old. 

Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol

Appearance: They basically just look like dragon-esque gargoyles, made of the same grey stone as the Serpent, that are about the size of a large dog. Each has gemstones for eyes, with El’s being sapphires and Ar’s being rubies. (Fun fact! These two were inspired by two identical lion statues my grandma has outside of her house, framing her front door, though the irl statues are MUCH smaller than the gargoyles.) 

Rapid-fire info: -Created to guard Alice’s Manor personally once the human soldiers got their own camp, as well as clean up the mess left behind after Break attacks. They have pedestals outside of the Manor’s front door - El sits on the left, Ar sits on the right. 

-Absolutely inseparable, mostly because these two have a single brain cell to share between the both of them and it spends all its time thinking about meat. They have a penchant for speaking in unison and finishing one another's sentences. 

-Both of them have identical, almost manic personalities, and it would be impossible to tell one apart from the other if not for their differing eye colours. 

-They’re basically the Realm’s janitors, eating leftover Break flesh once attacks finish to keep the Realm (and especially the Soldier’s Camp) nice and clean. The humans aren’t big fans of them, due to their winning personalities, and Gamma shares this opinion, largely thanks to the two of them shirking their duties more often than not to go hunting in the woods together. (Alice thinks they’re funny little guys, though.) Fortunately, they’ve been specifically programmed to find the taste of human flesh repulsive. 

-The best way I can describe them is that they have seagull vibes. They’re like if you made a seagull the size of a dog and gave it the ability to speak. 

Diver

Age: Less than a year old

Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol 

Appearance: Its head is a massive, seven-foot-tall brass antique diving helmet, from which three immense tendrils made of some sort of black sludge protrude. It has no sensory organs to speak of, but it seems to be able to navigate just fine, even getting a bit too close to humans it gets curious about as if to get a better look at them. 

Rapid-fire info: -Alice originally created this funky thing as an experiment, then liked it so much she gave it its own fountain in her backyard and made it a guard. 

-Has about the same mental capacity as a toddler, and is prone to doing odd things when it gets curious about something; is known to climb on top of the Manor’s roof and stretching up as tall as it can in order to see outside of the walls surrounding it, which is mostly just seen as a nuisance. 

-It still has the craving for Break flesh, like most of its carnivorous peers. It can absorb any organic material it wants through its sludge, though it seems to be able to choose what it does and does not want to assimilate into itself, as it doesn’t consume things like grass by moving over it. 

-It isn’t allowed outside of the Manor’s walls like the gargoyles are - largely because Gamma fears it might consume a human if given the opportunity and wants to keep a close eye on any interactions it might have with them, just in case - and as such, the other guards need to regularly bring it Break flesh to feed on. (Something the gargoyles like to “forget” to do so they can keep it all for themselves.) 

Blitz

Age: Has existed for a little over eight years

Role in the story: Basically set dressing lol

Appearance: A mis-match of parts from different Earth animals, with the body and fur of an adolescent black lab that hasn’t quite grown into their paws yet, a feline head, a fox’s tail and large ears similar to a lop-eared rabbit’s. The tips of his tail and ears are white, as if they were dipped in white paint. Blitz also has a small clock embedded in his forehead (and maybe on his shoulders and flanks as well, haven’t decided yet), and through the gears you can catch glimpses of his brain. 

Rapid-fire info: -Calling Blitz a ‘guard’ is a bit of a misnomer, but he doesn’t really fit in any other category (aside from Alice’s Inner Circle, but it felt misleading to put him above Cynthia considering his unimportance to the narrative); he’s the first permanent Creation Alice ever made, and he’s around largely to be a companion creature, though he’s really just chilling. 

-Has no tongue (Alice got so caught up making sure the rest of him was perfect that he gained consciousness without one), so he’s easily mistaken to be more animalistic than he is by the humans, but he’s really got the mind of a small child and can communicate telepathically with Alice and all of her Creations with ease. Alice could make him a tongue, and has offered in the past, but Blitz prefers this. 

-Has not aged physically or mentally since his creation because he simply does not want to. Because of this, Gamma treats him like a beloved younger sibling despite Blitz technically being older than him by several months, even reading the little guy bedtime stories regularly. The affection is mutual, as Blitz admires his ‘Big Brother’ a whole lot. (Enough that Blitz uses he/him pronouns purely because Gamma does and Blitz thinks Gamma’s cool.) 

-Blitz is almost as curious about the humans as Gamma is, mostly out of childish wonder at these strange new beasts in his home, but Alice and Gamma won’t let him go outside any further than the Manor’s gardens since he’d be easy Break food. He’s very happy in the rare times that humans do come and visit. 

Some Random Timeline Bullshit:

-Completely desensitized to gore and the like thanks to spending most of his time around Alice ever since he was made, but does get extremely sad when one of the humans or one of the guards die; he doesn’t fully get the concept of death, but he understands it just enough to know that it means he's never gonna see someone again. 

-Quite literally exists to sit around being cute. He’s very good at it!! 

Order of Arrival To The Realm: Cynthia (4.5 years before the main story (BMS)) -> Dylan (4 years BMS) -> Morgan (3.5-4 years BMS) -> Sydney (3 years BMS) -> Trinity (2.5 years BMS) -> Bianca + Troy (6-8 months BMS) -> Lydia + Sinclair (start of main story)

The First Break War happened around four years before the main story, lasting about a year and leading to the deaths of almost a hundred people. The Second Break War happened around a year and a half before the main story, lasting around six to eight months and leading to the deaths of a little over a dozen people.

[ma1dita]

A Luke and Trouble smut in the car

a/n: she's back.... and with a trouble!verse smut gasp. anyways if you haven't read the series all you need to know is luke calls her trouble. if you do wanna check it out, read 'partners in crime' here!

luke castellan x fem!dionysus!reader

wc: 1.1k

“We’re gonna be late,” you grumble under your breath. The sun is setting on Long Island faster than you and your boyfriend thought it would with the old hatchback slowly inching through Queens traffic. 

There’s only an hour left before curfew. 

And Luke Castellan drives like someone’s blind grandpa.

“Relax, babe—once we get onto the expressway, we’ll be straight sailing from there!” Luke says, with a hint of a smile prodding at his cheek. You were never a patient person, fidgeting in the passenger seat next to him, sweaty thighs stuck to worn leather. The air vents are tired, sounding like gasping coughs, and every car in New York City seems to be inching forward and unable to pick up the breeze.

“You said that forty minutes ago.”

“C’mon, it’s not all that bad, trouble. We get to have some extra time together. And be alone,” his voice is as smooth as the rumbling engine, taking his fingertips to the soft of your thigh. You’d find him sweet if you didn’t feel like ripping all your clothes off right now. “You know how rare that is for us.”

“M’just so hot, babe. I feel like I’m fucking dying,” you groan, exaggeratedly flopping over the console and onto his shoulder. He doesn’t mind being stuck to you like this, wet skin and shiny lips nuzzling against his neck and he licks a drop of sweat from his cupid’s bow. Your gentle kisses sear onto his skin and he has to inhale deeply, almost eyeing the horizon and daring for it to darken slower.  Foot tapping on the brake a little too harshly, the car is a toe away from rolling into the one in front of you.

“You’re not going to die. Would be lame if you did.”

“But baby, it’s like I’m about to explode,” you whine louder, “feels like we’re sitting on the surface of the sun!” Even at his wits’ end, your boyfriend can’t find the gall to get mad at you. Especially when your tank top flies into his lap, right over the growing bulge in his shorts that’s keeping him hot and bothered. Luke almost goes nonverbal at the goosebumps that rise—and you haven’t even touched him yet. You’re fumbling with something, knocking around in your seat as he shakes his head and tries to focus on the road.

“Don’t.”

The car behind you honks slightly and he swallows dryly, running his hand through the wet mop of curls as he rolls forward. Fuck New Jersey drivers, he thinks, this guy shouldn’t have gotten a license—what!

“You should’ve just let me drive,” your voice disrupts his inner monologue, and he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re grinning, “Would’ve gotten there faster than you, speedster.”

You know exactly what you’re doing.

“We’re gonna be late.” Hand flexing over the gear shift, his eyes dart across the road, quickly mapping out a path to the next exit. Your panties fall over his fist, a flash of black lace and damp with something other than just sweat.

“Aren’t you a son of Hermes? Make it work.”

Horns honking like a symphony, he weaves through traffic almost dangerously fast and not being able to do anything else but bite his lip when he hears you laugh through the chaos of it all.

—

“Sh–Shit! We’re gonna…” 

Luke’s the one laughing now as he slaps a hand over your throat, pistoning deeper into your warmth, and fuck, everything about you feels like fire. It’s the type of burn that licks at you from the inside out—but Luke tends to it with vigor, feeling you with every inch of his being. Your hands slap onto his wrist to hold him there, eyes rolling back into your head with wispy breaths of bliss. 

It’s dark now, and you’ve both somewhat safely stopped the car in a wooded area—Luke ripping off the rest of your clothes and his own before taking you belly-up in the backseat and your calves sitting pretty against his shoulders. 

“Be late? You weren’t worried about that earlier,” he teases.

The illegal fireworks and other illicit goods you’re trying to smuggle back to camp jostle in a box on the ground, digging painfully into his shins but he’s too busy stamping his hands into the shape of your breasts, rubbing you down with the mixture of both of your sweat that rolls with the momentum of your bodies.

“Fuck, Luke!”

Looking down at you with heat in his gaze, his thumb prods at your swollen lips, tapping lightly for you to open up. You do without a single complaint. He loves you, yes—even when you’re mouthy, but you look extra pretty when he gets to fuck you dumb and there’s no one around to bother you two. Grunting, you can feel and hear your skin slap against his when he leans forward to delve deeper if it’s even possible. All of you is red-hot from his passion, cock thrusting harshly so much that you can feel it slam against your insides.

For a moment you think he must hate you—dancing on the line of hot and hurt. 

Your eyes lock and you both grin.

“Let me take care of it. Gonna let me take care of you, right pretty girl?” He spits, a straight shot into your waiting mouth and an inhuman noise crawls up from your caged throat.

Leaning up to kiss him and grappling at his shoulders, he smiles into your pout, smeared lipgloss and runny mascara transferring onto his tanned skin. He loves it, knowing that you’re all over him and feeling branded by you even in the dark of the night.

A light flashes in your peripherals and you pull off him with a gasp.

“Is that a car?”

“We’re fine,” he grits, locking your legs around his waist and trying to focus—you’re so soft and soaking all over. His hands slip to your ass, clapping your cheek as he jerks his cock into you harder, making you whine. “They’re not… going this direction. Stop getting distracted.”

The heat builds from your core, pussy pulsing, and tears almost sizzling off your cheeks, so shiny and tempting that he licks a trail up to your ear. 

“I don’t want you to stop. Don’t… you dare, Luke. Fuck!”

Light filters through the darkness behind your eyelids as you grind yourself on his lap rapidly, chasing your high until the end. In a few hours from now, it’s back to business—but Luke has always been one to remind you of your mischievous side.

“Shit, trouble,” he sighs in bliss.

A blip of a siren goes off from outside, followed by quickly approaching footsteps towards your foggy windows.

“Shit,” you repeat back to him with wide eyes, untangling your legs and quickly trying to find your magic Zippo lighter through the mess of clothes at your feet.

—

Lessons were learned, and Connor and Travis were elected to go on supply runs from then on.

[your-nanas-house]

Voldemort x malfoy reader where he’s in desperate need for an heir so he ‘does’ the reader over the large dining table with a lot of ‘yes my lord’

Love it, sorry if it took me so long 😭

Yes, my Lord

◇ Pairing: Lord Voldemort X Malfoy!Reader

◇ Warnings: age gap (both off age but it's a clear big age gap), smut, HEAVY DUB-CON, public sex, p in v, wet spell (dunno if it exists but I use it every time 😬), breeding kink, creampie... just Tom Riddle, the death eaters watch them

◇ Summary: The dark Lord was ready to have heirs.

◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English. The writing is pretty shitty, 'M so sorry and it's kind of dark.

Her eyes snapped up as soon as the dark lord pronounced her name in a strange tone, she wasn't exactly following the whole monologue that the now former Tom Riddle was gifting his followers. So she was oblivious at the topic connected to her name.

As she carefully scanned the room, her father, Lucius Malfoy, spoke with a worried expression on his face “B-But… my lord, she—” he tried, shutting his mouth as soon as the red eyes of the dark wizard glared slowly at him.

“I made my choice, Lucius… do you have anything to add?” He asked in a calm voice as he leaned closer, receiving just a head shake… the blonde man too scared to defend his own daughter in front of the older wizard.

When Voldemort called her name again, moving his slender fingers to indicate her to move closer.. she got up, her body shaking softly and sweating due to the fear and panic she was feeling at the worried expressions of her family.

She inhaled loudly as soon as the cold fingers of her lord brushed the side of her neck, traveling slowly down to her hips… making a grin appear on his face as her skin reacted with goosebump.

“Y/n, Y/n, Y/n… my poor little dove,” Tom cooed, moving his free hand in her hair before taking a firm grip and bending her down on the wooden table, a loud thud echoing in the room.

Every gaze was now staring at them, some were concerned, others worried and complacent… as Y/n's eyes started filling with tears, shutting tightly as the cold slender fingers lifted the skirt of her dress so that they could rest on her covered ass cheeks.

“My little dove, you know why I'm doing this, right?” Her lord cooed again, starting to knead her flesh harshly “I need a young cunt with a body that could carry strong heirs in it, hm” he continued while covering her now naked lower half with his cape, which swallowed the sinful act perfectly.

The death eaters had just a perfect view of the young witch’s face which showed clear fear and worry.

They could see Tom’s hand moving under the cape, silence except for noises of metal caused by his belt hitting the floor… sounds that made them stare more intently.

Some started to look away while others kept focusing on them, admiring how the older man leaned down to whisper in her ear something that remained between them before her front body hit the table harshly.

A loud whimper escaped her mouth as soon as she collided with the wooden surface, her hands grabbed into whatever she could reach as an uncomfortable whimper broke the silence.

A soft light of a spell appeared from under the fabric and little time after that her whole body jolted forward, her head hitting the table as well.

Given by the dark lord’s expression of pleasure and hers of pain the dark wizards knew that was happening.

His movements were clear and the noises loud, his thick long cock kept forcing her walls open, as he pulled almost completely out so that his tip was the only thing inside of her.

Soft whimpers kept leaving her pretty mouth, tears kept running down her face wetting her young skin as she took everything her idol was giving her.

“Take it” Voldemort hissed, holding her flat against the table while snapping his hips forward, his cock hitting her cervix in a painful but pleasurable way as hisses kept leaving his mouth.

The Parseltongue sent shivers down her spine, those hiss and smooth noises kept swirling in her head, making her wetter than usual and almost too submissive.

It was her first time, Tom knew it, and he was enjoying it way more than he should… his breath getting heavier and heavier as he moved faster and harder not really carrying to make her cum or her pleasure.

“Going to take my heir!” he hissed, his tongue daring out to lick the skin of her ear shell sinfully

“I’m gonna fill… you.. up” he added, speaking after each thrust, as he smirked evilly when her body started to shake due to the intense feelings.

Her mind was telling her how wrong the whole situation was while her body kept reacting positively— her voice even cracked softly due to his fast thrusts… making it get higher while she continued to repeat the same answer as a mantra.

The young woman's eyes rolled back as her lord cupped her breasts through the fabric of her dress, squeezing and kneading them roughly to continue the now pleasant assault.. now a bit sloppier since he was reaching his own peak.

Y/n was on the same path, and after a particularly hard thrust, her body spasmed and her jaw dropped open…. her walls clenched around his hard and veiny cock, allowing Tom to finally release inside of her. Thrusting his hips to get it deeper inside of her before slowly pulling out.

A soft sigh of satisfaction escaped his mouth, his slender hands moved under the cloak as well, assuring that his seed wouldn’t leave her body.

Both were still breathing heavily as the young witch took a couple of deep breaths, falling slowly down, her bare knees hitting the cold floor of her family Mansion.

“Lovely… You have such a wonderful and useful daughter, Lucius” The dark lord murmured in a mocking tone, petting softly her hair while staring deeply in her father’s eyes, who was still at the table

“Make sure she will be there next week, for the next… encounter” he ordered, taking a grip on her hair to move her head easily, so that her eyes could meet his piercing red ones “I will see you later, dove”.

His voice was smooth and tempting, a contrast to the rough actions that just happened… his caress feeling almost soft and loving even if his stare was just communicating pure possessiveness and domination.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter

[starlightazriel]

bee 10

series desc: modern best friends >lovers au(fem reader, tattoo artist coke boi az haha) part 10 psa: not everyone will like this part lol don't kill me borderline domestic violence/abuse

warnings: 18+, rough sex where reader is drunk(blurry consent lines, i know i have issues im sorry), unprotected sex, spanking, praise, bj, possessive az, dark az, more groveling, drug/alcohol addiction, az having lots of inner monologue, self loathing, depression

a/n: canon az would never do this omg hes an angel with women bee series az however is a hot mess PROCEED W CAUTION!!!! kisses xoxo

AFTER COMMENTS RECEIVED I ADDED A POLL FOR THE NEXT 24 HOURS REWRITE OR PART 11 VOTE HERE

wc: 4.7k

other parts can be found on my az masterlist<3

ten

Azriel was watching the front door for hours. He knew she was back in town, he saw Kat's story. Y/n standing next to her, drink in hand. A grin, bloodshot drunken eyes, swollen from crying too, a tiny jean mini skirt, a crop top that was definitely Kats as it stretched too tightly over her generous breasts, nipples rings showing through the taut fabric. It had taken everything in him not to throw his phone through the flat screen. She was out looking like that, and he was here, miserable, sober besides all the weed he had smoked, which didn't do much for him anymore.

12:23 am.

He did clean up the house a bit for her... He couldn't let her walk into the mess he had created. He started with all of the trash, moved to the dishes, put any paraphernalia away back in his room, picked up all of his clothing strewn about the house.

1:37 am.

Fuck. The drawings. Azriel hesitated in front of her door, though he had been spending a lot of time in there recently, knowing she was back in the city, it somehow felt like a violation. That was ironic, considering how all of this had even started between them. It took effort not to physically cringe when entering her room, and his stomach twisted, cheeks burning at the realization that she had been in here. She had stopped here earlier before going to Kats. There was her bag. Right there, in the corner. His eyes settled on her bed, three of his drawings laid there carefully. He swallowed thickly as he looked at the drawings, each one made in the peak of his mental breakdown he had been going through since she left. One was of their hands, his own scarred flesh against her delicate smooth skin. One of her by herself, laughing, happy, his gut twisted. The last, of them kissing, him holding her face in his hands, tear stains dotted the page and that feeling of guilt that he was all too familiar with lately settled, dragging him down with it.

2:01 am.

Fuck. What the hell was she even doing? Where was she? He let out a heavy sigh before he picked up each and every one of the messy drawings he had done and brought them into his own room, shoving them deep into the filing cabinet by his desk. That was when the pacing about the entire house began— he couldn't possibly sit still now.

2:22 am.

Twenty minutes of pacing wasn't him doing any good, so on went the TV, he thought some cartoons should make him feel better and he settled on CatDog. Another spliff, some chips, cartoons humming in the background. It was better than going out of his fucking mind wondering what she was doing. Which he was still doing— but at least the mindless cartoons helped to drown out the voices screaming in his head, and the insatiable desire to do a line. He had forced himself to stay sober today... He wanted a clear head when he spoke to her.

2:46 am.

Azriel froze when he heard the doorknob turn, his heart beginning to pound wildly. He hadn't seen her since that night on her parents porch. What was she going to say? He had been preparing himself for the worst.

"You cleaned," a small hiccup, flushed cheeks, nervous, sad eyes avoided his as she entered the apartment. She was looking around, anything to avoid eye contact.

"I did," he rose to his feet, dropping the end of the spliff into a the ash tray he had been using. He took a few strides closer, freezing in the hallway when he finally got a good look at her. Lipstick smudged across her lips, hair disheveled, stray pieces falling around her face and eyes.

"Az," she whispered, her eyes widening slightly as they met stare that was growing angrier with each passing second, the emotion emanated from him, filled the apartment like a heavy shadow that pressed into her chest, that made her want to cower away from him.

He didnt know what it was, what over came him but he was in front of her in an instant, long scarred fingers grabbling her face, jaw clenched, grip tight around her own jaw, her cheeks squished, smudged lips smushed together. She's afraid of you, stop. She yelped quietly, eyes wild, wide with fear as she stared up at him, a pleading look in her eyes.

Stop now.

"What the fuck did I say?" it was a low growl, deep from his throat, she was drunk, he could tell, she could barely keep herself up, her knees wobbled, both hands curling around his arm, trying to pull him off of her. He knew this wasnt okay— no this was wrong, so very wrong.

Let her go.

"Az," she whimpered softly, her eyes glazed with tears.

Fucking stop— irreversible damage Azriel, stop now, before you can't.

"I told you not to fucking play with me. You fucking reek like booze and you look like a cheap fucking whore," a lie, his eyes flashed as it passed his lips, she thrashed slightly trying to free her face from his grip. "Stop fucking moving," he grunted, releasing his grip on her face to grab her neck, his fingers squeezing against her soft flesh, he felt her swallow beneath his grip, his blood thrummed.

"Az stop," she begged, her fingers still wrapped tightly around his arm, eyes wild and nervous as her nails dug into his skin.

"This is mine, its all mine," he rasped, his other hand roaming roughly over her body, "I swear to fuck— y/n if you gave my pussy up," he nearly choked on the words, his blood boiling and stomach churning at the thought.

This is wrong Azriel— stop, stop now. You should be on your knees begging forgiveness, stop.

This wasnt him, this wasnt supposed to be happening... This was his father— this is how his father treated women, not him.

"Az, I didnt," her voice broke as she rasped, her eyes were afraid but also— tender, because she knew him, she knew he didnt mean to treat her this way, she understood him on a level that no one else could.

"I should slap the fuck outta you for coming home like that," his fingers loosened on her neck, a sigh of relief escaping her lips with the motion. He didnt mean it, he would never hit her, his chest tightened, her eyes flashing as his words sunk in.

What the fuck is wrong with you? She's never going to talk to you again.

"Im sorry," she slurs softly, her glazed gaze dropping as if she couldn't look him in the eyes, guilt settled on her face. No, this is my fault, don't do that, don't look like that because of me.

"Don't be sorry," His voice was still firm but his eyes softened, swallowing the lump in his throat. I don't deserve you, run. Fucking run. "Just be a good girl and take off your whoring outfit," he finally loosed his fingers from her neck with a gentle push and she stumbled back, wobbly on her feet, she's drunk as fuck, don't fucking do this Az, this is fucked. Youre fucked, youre fucked in the head.

"You missed me didnt you?" she relaxed again allowing a small drunken giggle to escape her lips, she steadied herself on the near by side table before beginning to undress. His eyes followed her movements as her fingers slid over her silky skin and she slowly unclasped the dainty clips on her high heels revealing the fresh looking French tipped toes, his mouth watered at the sight of her.

Tell her how much you miss her. Tell her the truth, tell her youre sorry. Put her to bed Azriel, change her clothes, put her to fucking bed you sick fuck.

Anger outweighed his desire to do the right thing, he couldn't stop himself, what if this was his last chance to fuck her? To feel her?

"Keep going," he encouraged, his hard cock aching in his pants, pressing against the fabric of his sweats, he could feel the precum leaking from the tip, painfully so, he hadn't gotten his nut off since last time they'd fucked weeks ago. He watched as she slid the little mini skirt down her long smooth tattooed legs, many of them he had done himself. She looked so fucking good, shit he'd missed her. "Mhmm," he hummed to himself, his eyes burning into her skin, not looking away for even a second. She shimmied off the crop top next, her braless breasts bouncing deliciously as she freed them from the tight top. A soft involuntary groan escaped his lips at her now near bare body before him. He took a step toward her, placing his hand under her chin and tilting her head up so he could inspect her, she shivered slightly at the touch and he pressed his thumb lightly into her chin, his eyes raking over her bare skin.

"Azriel," she whispered, squirming slightly under his gaze, he froze at the small purply spot behind her ear, a little hickey.

"Oh youre so fucked," he let out a soft breath, poking the small bruise, she let out a small yelp, flinching away from him.

"Az! What is wrong with you?!"

So many things.

"What is wrong with you?" a soft growl escaped his lips, his eyes growing darker with each second that passed, he reached behind her, his body pressing against hers as he did, her breath caught, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. In a swift motion he cleared everything off of the side table in the hallway, the ceramic bowl that held their keys cracking on the floor, she winced, opening her mouth to say something but he grabbed her chin tightly again, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You come into my house, at almost three am, dressed like a fucking thot with a hickey on your neck, face all fucked up," he released her jaw aggressively, her head thrown to the side slightly, she let out a soft whimper, rubbing her chin. "Who gave it to you?" he demanded, placing his hand on her shoulder and whirling her around, pressing her against the table so her hips were flush with it, another small whine escaped her lips.

"It doesn't matter Az-"

"Tell me," he growled softly, his hand connecting with her ass in a sharp smack, she flinched, her hand finding the edge of the table and she held tightly. "Tell me," a warning edge in his tone

"E-Eris!" she yelped out softly, bracing herself for the next impact.

"Yeah, youre so fucked," he chuckled dryly, without an ounce of humor in his tone. Rage was coursing through his blood, red, red was all he could see. Fucking Eris, why? Why him? He didnt know why it infuriated him so much, maybe because he was so different from Azriel, practically opposites. How could she even be attracted to both of them? His pale perfectly smooth skin and red hair like the fucking devil, immaculate cleanness, infinite pockets and endless confidence and suave. He hated all of it.

"Az please," she begged, and he was too angry to even acknowledge the damage he knew he was doing.

"Youre soaking wet," he yanked her thong down, exposing her bare ass to him, his mouth watered again at the sight. "Is it because you like when I rough you up like this?" another smack to that same reddened spot on her bum followed by another soft whimper, her fingers gripping the edge of the table tightly. "Or is it because you like redheaded pricks?"

"Both," she bit back, her words slurred, he laughed again, that same humorless cold chuckle before his hand connected with her skin again, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. A shaky breath released from her lips as she braced herself for more, her eyes squeezing shut.

"Makes me sick you let him put his hands all over you. Act like a whore get fucked like one," his gravelly voice laced with intent as he released his hard cock from his sweats, they pooled on the floor at his feet as he wrapped his fingers around his thick length. She gasped softly, wincing at the sting as he slapped his cock on the round of her ass in that same spot he had spanked numerous times. His teeth sunk into his lower lip, cheeks flushed with anticipation, he had missed this.

"Youre mine, you understand me?" he asked, his tone sharp as he slid his leaking tip over her entrance, he hissed softly under his breath at the feeling of her wet cunt on his most sensitive skin.

"Yes Az, yes I understand," she rasped softly, another soft yelp leaving her lips as he shoved his cock into her, a low guttural groan leaving his lips. He had missed this so much.

"Good girl," he ground his hips against her ass, pinning her against the table, another small cry left her lips as he pulled his throbbing cock nearly all the way out and back in, the table shook beneath them. His thrusts were greedy, quick and unforgiving as she fell apart beneath him. Her pussy clenched around him, the tip of him dragging across her g-spot with every forceful stroke.

"Az," she let out a broken whimper, her mouth falling open, face twisting in blissful pleasure as she came all over his cock. He rasped a breath, surprised he hadn't been the one to cum first. Maybe she had been wound just as tightly as he was.

"Oh?" he breathed out, panting softly from the pace, small beads of sweat forming at his temples. "You came already?" he asked, a prideful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he ground his hips his cock filling her up so perfectly, her creamy release leaking around the base of his cock. She only whined softly in response which was only broken up by a soft yelp when he abruptly yanked his cock from her. Azriel grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up on wobbly legs before pushing her down on her knees.

"Go on," he grunted, his eyes glazed as he stared down at her, she was drunk as hell. He swallowed, wrapping his fingers into her hair and tapping his cock on her face, she loosed a breath, her jaw dropping open for him. She gagged as his cock hit her throat, not nearly fitting, he moaned, holding her head in place and fucking her face. "Fuck baby, good girl," he panted softly, his cheeks flushed, eyes glued to her, she moaned around him, her eyes squeezed shut, tears forming at the corners of her eyes as he brushed the back of her throat over and over. He hummed in approval as she swirled her tongue around his tip, dragging it along the underside of his cock, over his balls and then back up, her lips wrapping around him again.

Azriel cursed under his breath, his fist tightening in her hair as he released his thick ropes of milky cum into her mouth, she nearly choked as it shot to the back of her throat, one of her hands gripped the back of his knee tightly as she swallowed every last drop and sucked his cock clean. She panted, shrinking down onto the floor a bit her knees nearly buckling beneath her. He released her hair as she sunk down, a shaky breath escaping her lips as he did, his gut wrenched at the sight of her. On the floor beneath him, body dusted with red marks that he knew would turn to purple by the morning, he left them there. Azriel swallowed thickly as he tucked his cock back away into his pants before leaning down, putting his hands under her arms to lift her.

"Come on, get up," his tone is soft as he helped her up, once she was on her feet he easily he picked her up, and she rest her head on his chest as he brought her to the bathroom. "You feel lighter... You eating?" he asks, the guilt beginning to gnaw at his gut.

What the fuck is wrong with you? Fucking sick piece of shit.

"Mhm," was her only response, he let out another small sigh before setting her down on her feet. "Where's all my pictures?" she slurred softly, her eyes raking her her room.

"Put em away," he muttered, a blush creeping onto his cheeks as he rifled through her clothing retrieving a soft cotton pair of panties and a long t shirt.

"I liked them Az," she mumbled lazily, her eyes closed as he dressed her in her more comfortable clothing. He winced a little at her words

"Bed time," he breathed, steadying her on her feet before scooping her up in his arms again, and placing her into her bed. He tucked her in, pulling the blankets up to her chin and tucking them around her body.

"Why didnt you tell me you were moving to Vegas Azriel?" she asked, her words still slurred, he swallowed hard, tugging at his hair as he sat on the edge of her bed.

"We should talk tomorrow," he muttered, knowing she probably wouldn't remember the conversation if they had it now. She only nodded, her eyes still closed. Azriel reached out hesitantly and gently rubbed her back as she fell asleep.

He stayed there, watched her sleep, the soft glow from the string lights she had put up along one of her walls the only thing iGuilt gnawed at his gut, at his insides, he wanted to jump out of his own skin.

She deserved so much more than him... The little girl that he had shared his favorite candy with in front of her house, the girl that had saved him, so many times— she deserved the world, and he couldn't give it to her. He couldn't even keep her happy, the dark circles and the drop in weight proved that. It was his fault. All of it.

All day, he had gone all day without a single line.

And now— after he had taken advantage of her, put bruises on her, fucked her while she was too drunk to say no, said horrible fucking things he didnt mean...

Now he needed a fucking line.

-

A soft groan escaped my lips as I rolled over, pain, I was in pain everywhere— felt like I had been hit by a damn bus. My head pounded from the amount of alcohol I had consumed, my pussy was still lightly throbbing, completely beat up from last nights activities.

The house was quiet, but still my head throbbed.

My mind was fuzzy but I remembered pieces, remembered that I had made out with Eris, come home late, Azriel had put his hands on me- we had fucked. I groaned again, pressing my palms into my aching eyes.

Obviously, Azriel was out of fucking line— out of control. I hadn't thought our situation could get any worse, and now, impossibly worse.

Could I blame him for his actions when nobody taught him how to love someone? When I knew that his need for control had rooted from the childhood horrors he had once faced? Could I blame him for his actions when I knew his brain had developed around abuse and violence? No, I couldn't blame him.

Maybe I was in denial, but underneath it all? Still my Az.

Waiting on the counter for me was a latte and a breakfast sandwich from my favorite cafe, next to it a folded piece of paper. I unfolded it, my chest swelling at the bouquet he had drawn along with a few bees flying around it, the drawing was messy a few ink splatters where he had pressed the pen down too hard, but still beautifully done like anything he touched with his artistic ability. A small message scribbled at the bottom.

hope its still warm when you get up im sorry if you don't completely fucking hate me stop at the shop before your shift, i love you, azriel

Still my Az.

I sighed, frustration beginning to bubble within me. Always lax, always acting like everything was just fine. I was tired of it, I was tired of always just pretending like everything was okay when that dark cloud of depression had reared its ugly head weeks ago.

It was an effort to shower, to get dressed, I didnt have the will to put any makeup on besides a little mascara afterwards. Every movement felt heavy and painful and full of more effort than it should, but it wasnt only my physical condition from drinking an ungodly amount and Azriels- outburst. It was also my emotional state- my brain so utterly exhausted from all of the trauma I had been enduring in the past weeks. I couldn't even bare to look in the mirror for more than a few moments either, the fingerprint shaped bruises dusted along my jawline highlighted by the brightly lit bathroom.

It was even more of an effort to get myself out of the car when I reached the shop. Anxiety gnawed at my gut, would they ask? Would they even notice? It didnt matter, I needed answers. I needed answers to questions I hadn't even formed yet. The bells chimed as they usually did and the stares I received upon my entrance didnt do anything to sooth my anxious gut. The lack of clientele in the waiting room definitely helped, a little.

"Hey," I said wearily to Kat and Cass, I avoided eye contact at all cost, and found my usual place leaning against the counter. Kat was in her chair behind it, Cassian perched on a stool nearby.

"Hey boo," Kat says quietly, I could feel Cass' boring into me. Don't bring it up. I could tell by his lack of greeting he was about to.

"Y/n, please don't tell me Az did that," Cassians voice is soft but I could hear the concern laced in his tone.

"Is he here?" I ignored his question completely, I didnt want to get into it. Not now.

"Hes doing a tattoo, Cassians room is empty tho— if you wanted to wait for him, its been a couple hours, hes almost done," Kat didnt pry, she knew better, and Cass didnt protest when she offered his room up without asking first.

"Thanks," its slightly breathless, with an effort not to burst out in tears in front of them. I couldn't handle the worried stares— the pity. The door clicked shut behind me and I dropped my bag on Cassians piercing bed and slid into his chair. Alone, now, I let the tears of frustration flow freely. They were silent, but hot and streaming, I wiped my eyes with my sleeves, letting out an exasperated sigh.

I didnt know how long it had been when I heard his voice outside, I held my breath to listen. "She's here?" surprise, hopeful surprise.

"Az— Im not past putting you on the floor if you put your hands—"

"Im not," Azriel cut him off with annoyance. I straightened, realizing he was about to be in here.

I sniffled, wiping my eyes again quickly to try and hide the evidence of my tears before Az stepped in, in all his brooding glory. His face was grave, eyes impossibly more tortured than usual, hair messy and disheveled, chains stacked, poking out from under his shirt, he was in the same clothes that he had been in last night and it didnt look like he'd gotten an ounce of sleep.

"Leave it open," I commanded softly, I saw Cassian quickly look away and back toward Kat as Az began to shut the door. Hurt flashed in Azriels eyes, but he stopped, leaving the door where it was. It wasnt wide open, but open enough.

"You don't trust me," it wasnt a question, but a statement, and he was right, to an extent at least. I didnt think Az would hurt me— after last night... I wouldn't feel bad for asking him to leave the door open.

"Youre fucked up," I muttered when our eyes met, his pupils always a tell tale, he swallowed, his throat bobbing with the motion. "Probably should have this conversation another time."

"I was always fucked up Bee, every fucking moment I was fucked up— it doesn't matter," he took a step toward me, I held my breath again, my eyes tracing every movement he made. "Im sorry." Another step, I bit my lip, my cheeks flushing as I watched him drop to his knees in front of me.

"Sorry doesn't fix everything," my voice broke, he winced, his eyes boring into mine, showing me a vulnerable side Id never seen before.

"I know that," he breathed, and I almost broke all over again seeing the tears that threatened to spill from his eyes. "Im so fucked in the head Bee nothing I did last night was okay- fuck- it was- Im sick Im sorry," he rambled, he slid his hands into his hair, his fists curling into it, his elbows on either side of his head.

"Its not okay none of it— the fucking bottle girls, the lying, last night especially... I- you asked me last night why I kept Vegas from you and I have nothing- I have no good fucking answer or excuse that makes it okay but I swear I was gonna ask you to come with me, like fuck y/n I wish you could see I wish you could understand—" rambling again, I let him, my tears flowing again, words failing me. "I would let Rhys fucking sue me for breaking contract before I would leave this fucking city without you," his cheeks were flushed, tears running down them, I hadn't seen this before... As well as I knew him he never showed this much raw emotion, besides anger. "I know Im a fucking addict and a fucking alchy, but Im trying to be better, I went to AA, Im trying to quit drinking, but Im fucked Bee- Im so fucked up from all the shit Ive never faced and Im so fucking sorry I put that on you lastnight."

AA, he had done that for me, my heart ached for him. To hear him say those things about himself, in front of his friends, my heart ached knowing how hard all of this must be, but for me, he was doing it for me.

"If you never forgive me I deserve that, I honestly do Im a piece of shit— a fucking stain on your very existence you deserve so much fucking more than someone like me," I wanted him to stop, I wanted him to stop saying all of those horrible things, as angry as I was at him.

"Im so fucking sorry," he breathed again, his voice breaking, with a sob. Az, my Az, the one who hid behind that cold stare and never let anyone in, the one who never let that hard exterior crack... Was on his knees for me... Every word, Kat and Cass could hear every single word, they could hear him cry, hear his confessions his countless apologies and he didnt care. He didnt care that they knew, he only needed me. He needed me like air to breathe.

And I felt it, I felt it with every ounce of me because I needed him just as much.

So I didnt hesitate when I reached for him, when I pulled his hands from his hair, and pulled him to me. His body went limp, his knelt form hunching over as he let his head fall into my stomach.

"It's okay Az, breathe," my voice was soft as I stroked his hair, holding him close to me while he cried.

I knew it wasnt okay, none of it was, but he needed me and I needed him, and the rest I would figure out later.

-

a/n: wow they are toxic and codependent hahaahahaha NOT FULLY PROOF READ EXCUSE MISTAKES

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@smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog @julesvanslutta @honk4emoboyz @bookishbishhh @dakotali @blessthepizzaman @scooobies @durgenyx

[talaok]

Could you write about Pedro x Reader's first kiss? She's also an actress, and they became great friends while filming a movie together. Eventually, they fall in love... and, well, their first kiss happens. Just something really fluffy and romantic :) love u

Pairing: Pedro pascal x gn!reader

a/n: love you more <3 babe, also for some reason I wrote the beginning of this like it's the monologue at the start of a rom-com so don't mind that, i haven't written in a while, i need to get back into it

You weren't looking for love.

You weren't looking for anything really, just a new job, a new role, a reason to get away from the city for a while, and then... and then as always life got in the way.

They say love comes when you're least expecting it, and I guess they were right, because if there was one thing you weren't expecting, was to fall in love with the guy you spilled coffee on your first day on set.

But then again, already then you knew something was different, as he laughed while you stood there mortified, as picked up the cup for you, as he smiled like you'd just done him a favor, as he said "y/n, right? I already like you", already then, you had known something was different.

Pedro became your lifeline, he was the person who made you get through every day, he was the one who made you smile, laugh and even giggle like a teenager at the most inappropriate times, he was the one you'd go to after every rough day, and he was the one you'd rant to whenever you needed, and for him... for him you became exactly the same.

You were inseparable, on and off set, you were always together, but always just as friends. Perhaps you were scared of that deep, guttural feeling that was starting to settle in your chest, and perhaps he was terrified of the idea of making the first move, of confessing that you were an everlasting thought in his mind, that his heart skipped a beat at your every smile, he was petrified at the idea you could reject him, and nothing would ever be the same, but as it turns out, all you needed were a few drinks and a wrap-up party for your movie.

You had sneaked out into a quieter room because you didn't like parties all that much, and there was no chance in hell he was leaving you alone.

You were sitting on a sofa, resting for a moment, when you said: "so I guess this is the last time we'll see each other for a while"

And he'd frowned, turning to you

"What are you talking about?"

"well we won't see each other every day now that the movie's done, that's all" you shrugged, biting your lip,

And for some reason, that made him laugh

"sweetheart if you think you're getting rid of me this easily, you're sadly mistaken"

"oh-wh-" you smiled "I don't wanna get rid of you!"

"I sure hope so" he tilted his head, grinning 

"of course not" you shook your head, fixing the collar of his shirt "You..." you trailed off, freezing as your eyes met his, and you realized how close you really were.

"I what?" he asked, the smile on his face decreasing as he too, started sensing the tension building in the room.

"You know, asshole" you murmured

"No I don't" he argued, his hand on your waist "What were you about to say?"

You tried taking a deep breath, but your lungs weren't really cooperating, and his hand felt very pleasant on your body.

"You... you're important to me Pedro" you confessed, your voice faint, honest.

And right then, right then he knew that this was the turning point, the moment he was gonna have to risk it all, or regret it for the rest of his life.

"you're important to me too y/n" he whispered, gently leaning closer, until his mouth was ghosting yours "Very important," he said, before inevitably, his lips met with yours and you both let go, let go of your fears, and opened up to each other, to love, to everything that could, and will now be.

[laurentdirosetti]

"Support character" [part 2]

{Idia Shroud x gn/MC}

Tags: playing videogames together, competitive, bet, smut...

Idia’s room was just like you imagined it would be, an otaku’s room —books scattered on the floor, open boxes in every corner, merchandising from different animes and games, posters on the walls… Also, the air in the room is really heavy, why is it so hot in here? Is it because of the computer or- 

MC: ARE YOU ALRIGHT? 

His hair was bright red, redder than when we were in the storage room, and not only the color was hot red, but the temperature too. 

Idia: so-sorry, this is the first time a girl has entered my room (anyone other than Ortho or me for that matter).

That was the issue, haha… now I’m nervous too. I should do something to break the ice in this situation, or rather cooler the temperature. I think I recognised one of his figurines on that shelf… 

MC: Isn’t that Ruri-chan from “The Magical Ruri Hana: Demon Girl”?

I was staring right at Ruri-chan when I asked him, so it was a surprise when I turned around to look at his face and saw his expression. For a few seconds the time stopped and he gave me a death stare. Why is he so scary all of a sudden? Did I mispronounce her name? Impossible, I’ve been watching that series since I came to this world, mostly because it was the only serotonin I could find after nearly dying over a kid’s tantrum. 

Idia: you know Ruri-chan?

Maybe because you were nearly as introverted as Idia or because you were nervous, the only answer you could find to his suddenly cold attitude was that this was the beginning of the typical “man interrogation over a common interest to prove your authenticity as a fan”. So before he could start making you questions about the show, you blow out all the lore of the series. 

Idia’s face was as rigid as a rock until you finished your monologue on Ruri-chan’s journey. You stopped talking to catch a breath when he grabbed you by the shoulders and suddenly snapped.

Idia:  ARE YOU TELLING ME THERE WAS ANOTHER OTAKU IN THE ACADEMY AND I DISCOVER IT NOW? Why did it take you so long to talk to me? How is it possible that I didn’t know about this before? I mean, I have control over all the technology and internet connection here. I should’ve been notified if a student was watching anime, how is it possible I didn’t know about you till now? What did you do? What kind of firewall did you use?

MC: I just watched it on Ramshackle’s TV…

Idia: ah… that explains everything, that TV probably doesn’t even have an HDMI port, let alone Internet… 

MC: Idia… my shoulders are starting to hurt.

He sure is strong, it's hard to tell by those baggy clothes he's always wearing. He instantly opened his hands to let me go as soon as he heard me. He looked troubled he might have hurted me. 

MC: don’t worry, I may not have “mana”, but my HP is full.

He couldn’t help but smile at my dumb -almost cringe- comparison. I think my “break the ice” mission was successful. Idia is very expressive, he snapped from nervous, to surprised, to confused, to happy in the the blink of an eye. I wish he stopped using that floating tablet of his to attend classes so I could see more of his expressions. 

As soon as he released me he went to pick something from his wardrobe, a pair of controls apparently. The controls in my world were less complex than this ones. Idia handed me one of them and I began to study the buttons. It would be a lie to tell I knew how to grab it, clown music is playing inside my head. I wanted to play videogames with him, but truth be told I don’t have money to fix Rammshackle’s sink let alone buy a videogame or a console. 

Idia saw my troubled grin and step towards me, shadowing my entire persona. 

Idia: Is there a problem? You don’t like the color or something? Is it the brand?

MC: well, you see, the thing is… 

This is gonna be so embarassing. First, I ran into problems trying to defend him against nothing, cause he wasn’t even hearing those jerks. Second, I made him hide with me in the storage room and now I have to tell him I wanted to play videogames with him but didn’t even think about the possibility of the controls being different from my world. Defeated, I lower my head to evade his soon to be inquisitive gaze. 

MC: …I don’t know how to use these controls, they are different from the ones in my world.

Silence was so loud I couldn’t take it anymore and looked up. He was trying so hard not to burst out laughing at me his cheeks were red and his jaw was so tense I could see his neck muscles contracting. Finally, he let out a little pfft and grabbed his mouth and chin with his hand, pressing his cheek with his index.

Idia: I’m sorry but, you went through all that trouble to play together and you don’t even know how? Cute.

Lucky for me I don’t have magical hair that turns red when I'm flustered, but I’m sure it’s not hard to guess just by looking at my face. 

Idia: don’t worry, guess I’ll have to teach you as I did with my little brother, come here.

He sat on a visible comfortable plush sofa, big enough for him to open his leg and ask me to sit between them. Funny, when we were in the storage room he was so nervous and now he openly asks me to sit on top of him, hasn’t he noticed?

Dumbfounded, I did as he requested and sat on the gap between his thighs, creating a space between us as a way to surpass the embarrassment. Unfazed, he glued his chest to my back and slipped his hands around my body. As if I was walking on thin ice, I slowly rested my arms on top of his. Then he moved his hands on top of mine on the controller, guiding my fingers on top of the buttons. My ears were bright red as I could feel his breathing chilling my neck, whispering a slow pace explanation on how to use the controller. His fingers moved mine slowly over the buttons, his hair fell as a cascade over my shoulders sliding between my legs. I don’t know what is happening and I would swear neither does he. He’s so focused on explaining the lore of the game and controls he hasn’t realized the hot mess he got cuddled beneath him.

Idia: Did you get that?

He asked, suddenly making me snap out of my cloud. Even though it was difficult, for many reasons, I caught a glimpse of his monologue while trying to survive my ocean of hormones. 

MC: Well… It seems quite complicated to be honest. Maybe I can understand it better once I play the game. 

Idia: Great, let’s play. I’ll connect the other controller so we can multi-play this. 

The controller was right next to us, already plunged, so he didn’t move an inch and his arm were still surrounding me. The soundtrack of the game started playing and far too late I realized he meant to play in this position, basically cuddling each other, with our arms tangled, his body temperature on me and his breathing on my neck. We haven’t even started, but I can tell I already lost. 

Unfortunately for him, after playing for nearly an hour, I tried my best to give him a hard time beating me. I lost all the matches anyway, but at least I could hear his groans all along, echoing in my ears. 

Idia: SO much for being a snob, you are tougher than you look. But rest assured, I would never let a newbie beat me at my favorite game. Ortho has tried many times and I should give him a pass -you know the whole “Idia let your little brother win once”- but as a weeb I have a reputation yk. 

That smirk on his face… he’s sure full of himself. I have almost grasped the dynamics of this game, maybe I could beat him. I’m a pretty competitive person and that arrogance only ignites something dark in me, something stupid. 

MC: I bet I can ruin that reputation of yours in our next round.

Idia: Are YOU implying YOU can win? LMFAO, if delulu was a sport you'd have a gold medal. If you beat me on this round I’ll be your chair or whatever -not that it’s even a possibility.

MC: Do you mean I can ask you anything if I win? It’s this one of those anime situations in which the winner can order the loser around the whole day? 

Idia: Yeah, that kind of shoujo stuff. Afraid?

MC: Mmn… Well, you’re already quite the comfortable chair.

That came out of nowhere, but I decided to keep my cool and rested my weight on his chest even more, looking up at his melted honey eyes now widening from sudden embarrassment. His peachy cheeks are so cute. Plan complete: this may be considered cheating but the only way to win is to distract him and by the discontrolled beating of his heart reverberating on my back I can tell it already worked. 

We began playing, in the game we were two characters fighting each other in a 2D horizontal landscape. I didn’t learn all the combos, but I mastered the parries and evasions, so it was nearly impossible for him to even scratch me. He was focused on attacking while I was determined on defending, a never ending match it seemed.  In real life it was the other way around, I continued non-stop “attacking” him while he tried his best to “defend” himself. Each time I evaded one of his attacks my butt moved against his lower body. From the corner of my eye I enjoyed his leg contraction at every “unintended” pound I gave him. After almost an hour of playing him, and the game, his breath was a mess, he was trembling all over and his dick was rock hard between my ass cheeks. My intention was to win the game, but I’m not quite disappointed with the actual development of the situation. I could take this as a win already.

Then I felt a thrust, his body rested on top of mine and I swear I can almost tell his longitude just by the pressure on my lower back. He snapped, his fingers were moving so fast on the buttons I had to make an effort to see them, he left me no chance to defend myself neither in the game or reality. As my character fell to the ground completely defeated, my head stumped on the floor as his hands pressed my shoulders to the ground.

Face to face, among the darkness of his room I could only differentiate two golden orbs and his face lightly illuminated by the gentle blue of his hair. 

Idia: I won.

My whole belly was on the palm of his hand as he slowly lifted my shirt all the way up, until he grabbed my neck under the clothes. 

MC: Wh-what are you doing?

Idia: I won, so the loser must do whatever the winner demands, right?

MC: Bu-but you haven’t say anything yet.

Idia: Oh, then I want the loser to fix my joystick. 

What? Oh…

As I stupidly tried to understand that I noticed his hard-on pressuring my lower belly, near to my intimacy. 

Idia: you see, a certain snob player broke it mid-play. Any idea on how to fix it?

He completely snapped, I almost can’t recognize him. Where is the shy boy I was messing with? The situation has escalated more than I would have imagined, but this doesn’t put me off in the slightest. Seeing Idia all hot and bothered surely is rare enough and I want to push that dominant side of him a bit more.

MC: maybe… It just needs some cleaning?

I questioned opening my mouth and letting out my tongue. His sigh was filled with excitement and anticipation, I could catch him bitting his lips for a moment.

He moved his knees to the sides of my head and lowered his zip and trousers. My eyes, now more used to the low illumination of the room, enjoyed the view of his thighs, pale as porcelain. He looks so fragile and slim, or that was my line of thinking until he uncovered his dick. Hard, veiny and leaking precum on top of my forehead; the length was the size of my face. This was going to hurt.

I accepted my destiny and kept my mouth open for him to enter mercilessly. But, that wasn’t the case. At a slow pace he started going down on my mouth, he filled my cavity with just the tip and almost the middle of his length. Then, he took my chin in his hand and caressed my cheek, pressing it on his dick and slowly massaging it from outside. I didn’t know what to do with my tongue so I tried to lick his dick and press it more against my cheek. His eyes glittered from a moment and he let out a soft chuckle. 

Idia: seems you’re really eager to clean it, babe. But this much won’t do I’m afraid, you need to get it all wet enough.

Instantly, he continued letting down his hips  until all his dick was in my mouth and throat. He was so deep in me my lower lip was touching his balls. Strange enough, this wasn’t as painful as I imagined it to be, I wonder how can my throat be twitching around him and I’m so calm? Maybe, his sweet expressions are keeping me from gagging. His mouth is a little open, from this angle I can only see his tongue moving above his pointy teeth. His eyes are locked in my throat, probably a bulge has formed, his fault after all. He’s been so long in this position I could possibly draw his dick by having it inside me. 

When I thought he would start moving, his balls twitched against my lip and his cum flooded my mouth non-stop. When he released everything in me he fastly got up, letting me catch a breath. He cumed so much there were lines of cum running down my cheeks to the ground. I coughed a little after drinking all.

When I sat on the floor and looked up I could feel his gaze contemplating my whole display, heavy breathing and a surprised expression.

MC: that was fast. 

Idia: I endured playing in hard mode, literally, a few minutes ago. Thank me I didn't finish by just seeing your ahegao face. Also …you didn’t need to drink that.

MC: I told you I would clean it. 

Idia: quite the awful job, It's all sticky and twitching, maybe you can clean it better down here…

To be continued...

Part 1

[shootingstarwritings]

Body a Day #6: Mirror

Milo was the successful CEO of an established tech company. Blessed with three beautiful children, he lived life with no care in the world. It was only when he, deep into his 50’s yet still looking and feeling virile, went to the doctor’s that he discovered that he was going to die.

“It’s terminal,” said the doctor, offering his deepest condolences as he broke the news. He continued on, giving him an explanation regarding the illness, but Milo wasn't listening. His mind was still racing. He only responded when the doctor asked, “Would you like us to contact your family members?”

“No thank you, doctor. I have… a procedure for this. Family tradition, to be exact,” said Milo as he stared off into the distance. He thanked the staff and made his way home, glancing at himself in every passing reflection he could.

Arriving home in his penthouse suite, Milo sat down on his couch with a drink in hand. He stared out into the city skyline on a perfect sunset. On a normal day, he wouldn’t have given it a second glance. Now, all he could do was stare, transfixed by the transient sight, lost in his thoughts.

Which of my sons should I leave my inheritance to?

Milo was a father of three, but the youngest child, a girl by the name of Melanie, was not an option. That left two options: Matthew—who preferred Matt—and Mortimer—who didn’t like to be called Mort.

“Matthew’s a strong candidate, but Mort has his own little charms,” Milo muttered to himself, hoping that the crackling of the fire on his TV screen would help his concentration. He swirled a wine glass filled with a sugary grape juice as he hummed to himself. He wasn’t thinking particularly hard, but he figured that this was what all great thinkers usually looked like before getting hit by an epiphany, so there was merit to copying them in his current dilemma.

And yet, Milo found himself far too indecisive. After going through an entire jug of grape juice, he wandered over to his bathroom and began to monologue to his attractive face in the mirror. “Oh, my dying self,” he began, thinking back to his past as a theater actor. What should happen to my darling company and all my struggles? Will they vanish to the wind, nothing but hollow husks as they erode into dust?” He continued for quite a while before leaning into the mirror and giving it a quick kiss. “Oh, only you could understand someone like me…”

It had only been a few years since the entity was reborn as Milo. It wasn’t difficult to take over the rich CEO, but if he had known that Milo’s body would expire so quickly, he would’ve taken over one of the rotten kids earlier. Mel was still in college, but Matthew and Mort were already in high positions in the companies that Milo owned. They were set for life. However, Milo’s indecisiveness often held him back from just making a choice and doing it. Hell, taking over Milo was a choice that took about a week between him and his business partner, Niles.

Both were attractive, but after seeing Milo lounging around the steps on the company, the entity made its choice.

While the (relatively) brief period of time as Milo was great, part of that was thanks to all the cumshots Niles had pumped into his aged yet virile ass, now that it was coming to an end, Milo found himself in despair.

That was when the epiphany finally struck. Milo ran towards his room and gathered the necessary materials for the ritual. It only took about an hour to arrange everything properly. The candles were lit, the blood (hidden beneath a secret compartment in the freezer) was used and evaporated properly, and soon a burst of magic echoed into the night. Milo’s magic always looked like purple mist that smelled faintly of lavender.

“So, my other self,” Milo said, grinning at his own reflection. “Which one of my children do you wish to give your inheritance to?”

“Mmm…” said the other Milo, although it was ridiculous for them to be referred to as the ‘other.’ They weren’t two halves of a whole, but two congruent images of a soul. It was Milo and Milo. Any differences were quirks in the spellcraft and little more. “It’s amazing how we’ve ended up twice as indecisive with two of us. So instead, how about we flip a coin?”

Fate was a harsh mistress, but when looking at it from the perspective of ‘one Milo per son,’ then there was no reason for either of them to complain.

Matthew sounded excited when Milo dialed him up on the phone. “I’ll be right over there, my dear father,” he said with a honeyed yet forced voice. He was kind, considerate, and prideful to a fault; he was always so sure that his kind demeanor and charisma would give him a golden ticket through life, ignoring just how much of his father’s fortune and influence allowed him to fly through life.

There was a bit of guilt for Milo, as he had genuinely grown attached to these children that weren’t his, but he didn’t want to die. He had never died while possessing a host, and he didn’t want to risk the consequences of doing so. The worst thought was being trapped inside the dead host, unable to escape the prison of flesh as it slowly rotted away… turning into dust like that of Ozymondias’ kingdom.

Ash to ash… dust to dust… Those words always made a shudder creep down his spine. It was nerve-wracking. Horrifying. No, Milo needed to do this. They needed to do this. “Relax, myself,” his reflection assured him, smiling despite the anxiety in his eyes. “You u are no loonger alone. If one of us were to perish, the other would save him. Remember that, okay?” he said with a wink.

Milo nodded and waited for Matthew to arrive. When he did, Milo wasted no time guiding him towards his room, where a special mirror was awaiting him. As Matthew walked inside, he asked, “Why in your room, dad?” He looked around and took a quick whiff. “Hmm… it’s a nice smell. Is that… orange…?” Amazingly, Matthew wandered the room on his own, looking around various trinkets and decorations that Milo had gathered even since taking on his most recent host. “You’ve got quite the odd collection, dad. It’s… uh… huh…?” It was inevitable, but he walked right in front of the mirror.

“Must be a strange sight, huh?” said Milo, leaning against the door frame and shooting out an email from his phone. A bright light flooded the room, which made him glad that he wasn’t looking directly at it. He could hear a panicked scream from the eldest son, but Milo just shrugged and continued to look away. He knew that Matthew saw his father’s reflection instead of his own, and then saw the same image burst out of the mirror and flood his younger and more virile body.

“Quick, to the mirror!” Milo’s other half, now Matthew, cried out. For whatever reason—perhaps a fundamental law of the universe—Milo could feel his essence beginning to vanish. Was it because he was lacking a reflection? Most likely. But Milo didn’t have much time to think. He uttered a quick incantion and then jumped through the glass as though it was a pool of water. Immediately, the sensation of his very molecules being pulled apart as though being ravaged by some invisible, fearsome beast. “Phew, that was close,” said Matthew as he looked down at the panting, sweaty mess that was Milo.

“Sh-Shut up…”

“Hey, you’re alive, right?” grinned Matthew. “All right, I’m gonna give Mort a call and get him to come by. In the meantime, sit tight and get ready, ok?”

Milo sat up and looked around. Anything that was beyond what the mirror reflected was just a gray, foggy void. Essentially, he was trapped in that small pocket of a reflection until someone else looked into the enchanted mirror. “Not like I have much of a choice,” he said, looking down to see a phone with all the numbers and symbols mirrored, making it difficult to read. It also lacked any reception, which made enough sense to piss Milo off. “Just don’t take too long. Hey! Pay attention!” he shouted as the new Matthew began to strip and check out his new, stolen goods.

It took far too long to get Matthew back in control. Maybe I really should’ve recommended for him to get tested for ADHD. I had my suspicions when I took over his father for the first time, thought Milo, reflection on the oldest son’s behavior once more. But eventually Matthew dialed up Mort’s number, who picked up with his usual greeting. “Don’t call me Mort,” he said just before Matthew eagerly greeted him with a “Heya, Mort!”

The two went back and forth, and Milo, despite being in what was essentially a reality away, could still make out most of what Mort said due to all the exasperated yelling. Matthew went wildly off-script, but all it took was a mention that he was over at Milo’s place talking business for Mort to suddenly cry out, “I’m on my way! Hold up.”

Milo and Matthew shared amused smirks and awaited the middle son’s arrival. They didn’t have to wait long. Mort arrived just 20 minutes later, panting and sweay from most likely running up the stairs—forgoing the building’s elevator. “Where’s dad?!” he cried, pushing past his brother and stomping around the apartment. Matthew gestured towards Milo’s open room door, and Mort rushed inside. “Father, I have my reservations regarding—the fuck…? W-Woah, AHHH!”

~o~

Months after Milo’s funeral, Melanie found herself enjoying a family dinner for the first time in what felt like decades. The siblings had gone out for dinner and not a single fight occurred the entire meal! Melanie could feel her blood pressure lowering the more she found herself engaged pleasant talk with her siblings. They smiled, joked, and showed that they were listening to her stories. Not longer did they roll their eyes, check their phones, or just not even bother paying attention to her and instead bring up complicated business deals and numbers to each other, pointedly ignoring her.

After the meal, the three returned to Matt’s home and played a few cards game. Melanie found herself on a bit of a lucky streak by the end of night, managing to get to 21 during the last few rounds of Blackjack.

“It’s been frankly amazing!” she said to her siblings as they walked her to her husband’s car. “I can’t remember the last time we had so much fun. I…” she paused and choked back a sob. Matt pulled her in for a side-hug while Mort told her that the two of them promised each other that they’d get along better.

“Dad wouldn’t have wanted us to keep on fighting,” he told her, smiling with eyes twinging with regret. “Just wish he could see us getting along better.”

Melanie reached out and gripped Mort’s hand. “Something tells me that he can. And I’m sure he’s proudly looking down on us. Thanks for everything, you two. Good night.” With those parting words, Melanie joined her husband. She didn’t notice the knowing look Matt and Mort gave each other.

“Well my dear brother,” began Matt as he looked through his closet. After the funeral, Matt made sure to take all of his old clothes from his days as Milo. No reason to let such fashionable fabrics go to waster, after all. “Glad we made our dear sister smile again. I think tonight was a Mission Accomplished. Oooh, I think this one fits the new me,” he said as he put on a floral-patterned Hawaiian shirt, unbuttoned of course, and a pair of cargo shorts. He showed them off to Mort, making sure to flex to show off his core muscles. “I think the try-hard, sweat-lord life is behind me now that my dad has passed on and left so much money and influence to me. It’s time to just relax and cruise on by.”

Mort chuckled as he stripped off most of his shoes, content with just a pair of briefs that snugly hugged his crotch. “Of course, dear brother… my other half…” he said, lying back and letting out a relaxed sigh. “These bodies of ours were so exhausted when we got to them. They deserve a vacation, don’t they?”

Matt climbed on the bed and lied on top of Mort’s, who let out a moan. “That they do, Mort. So let’s give it to them.” They pulled each other close and kissed. Their hands went wild as they explored each other’s body for what could’ve easily been the 20th time, their lustful expressions identical. For once, Matt and Mort were equals in the other’s eyes; they became mirrored halves that made the other whole.

[awkward-walking-potato]

maybe deadpool x reader where they don’t have a very good friendship in their life and wade finds them crying over it one day.? hurt comfort my beloved …

Cry Buddy

You never imagined that Deadpool, of all people, would be the one to find you in such a vulnerable state. You thought you’d have been able to keep it together, but some days, the weight of loneliness and the lack of meaningful friendships got to be too much. Today was one of those days.

You sat alone, your back against a wall in a quiet corner, tears streaming down your face as you tried to hold back sobs. You were supposed to be strong—at least, that’s what everyone always told you. But today, it was too much. The feeling of isolation, of not really having anyone to turn to, was suffocating.

And then, just when you thought you were alone, you heard a familiar voice.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the chimichangas. Are those tears? In this economy?"

You looked up to see Wade standing there, tilting his head as he stared down at you. His usual comedic bravado was still present, but there was a softness in his gaze, something that made you realize he wasn’t going to just crack jokes and leave.

You quickly tried to wipe your face, embarrassed that he had found you like this. "I’m fine, Wade."

"Uh-huh, yeah, I know what ‘fine’ looks like, and this... this isn’t it," he replied, squatting down in front of you. "You wanna talk about it? Or should I just sit here and make awkward conversation until you eventually tell me what’s going on?"

You managed a weak chuckle through your tears, which only seemed to encourage him.

"There it is! A little smile!" Wade grinned widely under his mask, leaning back on his heels. "But seriously, what’s going on? You don’t just cry for no reason. Trust me, I know all about crying—especially when no one’s around to hear it."

You sighed, feeling the weight of everything still pressing down on you. "I just... I don’t really have anyone, Wade. No real friends. People act like they care, but they don’t. I feel like I’m always the one left out, or like I’m never good enough for anyone to really stick around."

Wade was quiet for a moment, uncharacteristically so. Then, he moved to sit next to you, leaning his head back against the wall. "You know, people suck. Most of them, anyway. And friendships? They can be like eating a bad taco. Looks good at first, but by the end, you’re regretting every bite. Trust me, I get it."

You glanced over at him, surprised by how genuine he sounded.

"But," Wade continued, "I also know that sometimes, you meet someone who’s not like the others. Someone who’ll stick around, even when you’re not your best. Someone like... I don’t know, me?"

You let out a small laugh, though the tears were still threatening to spill over. "You’re not exactly the first person that comes to mind when I think ‘reliable friend,’ Wade."

He gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. "I am shocked and appalled. I am a great friend! I may not always show up on time, or... ever... but when I do? Oh, I’m there for you, 100%."

There was a sincerity in his voice now, one that made your heart ache a little less. Wade wasn’t like everyone else, that much was clear. He was chaotic and unpredictable, but at the same time, you knew that he meant what he said.

"You know," he added, "if you ever feel like crying again, I can be your cry-buddy. We can cry together. I’ve got this beautiful monologue prepared for such occasions—guaranteed to make us both sob uncontrollably."

You wiped your eyes, smiling a little wider this time. "Thanks, Wade. I guess... I just didn’t expect you to care."

He shrugged, casually placing an arm around your shoulders. "Well, surprise! I do care. And if anyone else says you’re not good enough or leaves you hanging, I’ll just—" He mimed slicing with an imaginary sword. "Problem solved."

You leaned into him slightly, feeling some of the loneliness start to fade. "You don’t have to fight anyone for me, Wade."

"Who said anything about fighting? I’ll just give them a stern talking-to," he said with a wink. "But seriously, I’m here, okay? You’re not alone. And I’m not just saying that because you have great taste in chimichangas."

For the first time in a long time, you felt a little lighter, knowing that maybe—just maybe—you had found someone who truly cared.

[logansargeantsbabymom]

You Deserve It

Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader

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A Marvelous Surprise

I’d always thought that my life was pretty perfect. I had everything I could ever want: a supportive family, great friends, and a boyfriend who was not only incredibly talented but also genuinely kind. My boyfriend was none other than Oscar Piastri, the Formula 1 driver who had taken the world by storm. But, as I found out one sunny afternoon at the racetrack, sometimes even the perfect life has a few extraordinary surprises.

The day started like any other Grand Prix day. I was in the pit lane, surrounded by the clamor of engines and the frenetic energy of the race day preparations. Oscar had been busy with the team, and I was making my way through the paddock, trying to stay out of the way but still soaking in every moment of the high-octane atmosphere.

I had my usual race day ritual—cheering for Oscar from the best spot I could find and, if I had a moment, catching up on social media. My love for Marvel was well-known among my friends, and they had teased me about it endlessly. Every interview I did where I gushed about my favorite characters—Bucky Barnes, played by Sebastian Stan, and my all-time favorite actor, James McAvoy—was met with knowing smiles and playful jabs.

Oscar had heard it all, of course. He was always so patient with my endless Marvel monologues. I had even been lucky enough to attend a few fan events, where my excitement for superheroes could be fully unleashed. But nothing could have prepared me for what was about to happen.

The race was in full swing, and Oscar was driving brilliantly. I was on the edge of my seat, my eyes locked on the track, when my phone buzzed with a new message. I glanced down to see a text from Oscar: “Meet me at the hospitality suite after the race. I have a surprise for you.”

My heart raced—not from the thrill of the race, but from the anticipation of Oscar’s surprise. The remainder of the race felt like it dragged on forever. When Oscar finally crossed the finish line, victorious as always, I couldn’t wait to see him.

After the post-race celebrations, I headed to the hospitality suite. The area was relatively quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos of the pit lane. I entered the suite, expecting to find Oscar waiting with a small token of his appreciation or perhaps just a sweet gesture to celebrate his win.

What I saw instead took my breath away.

The suite was filled with the unmistakable aura of Marvel’s finest. There, standing among the elegant furniture and decorations, were some of my absolute favorites—Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Elizabeth Olsen, Scarlett Johansson, Robert Downey Jr., James McAvoy, Evan Peters, and Anthony Mackie. They were chatting amongst themselves, their faces lit with amusement as they turned to see me enter.

My jaw dropped. My eyes darted between them, not quite believing what I was seeing. I stumbled into the room, feeling like I was walking through a dream.

Oscar stepped up beside me, his grin as wide as ever. “Surprise, YN!” he said, his eyes twinkling with mischief and affection. “I know how much you love Marvel and James McAvoy, so I thought I’d arrange a little meet-and-greet.”

I couldn’t form words. I just stared, blinking rapidly. Chris Evans noticed and chuckled. “I think we broke her,” he said, leaning toward the others.

Elizabeth Olsen came over, her smile warm and genuine. “Hi, YN! I’m Elizabeth. We’ve all heard so much about your love for Bucky Barnes. It’s great to finally meet you!”

Sebastian Stan, ever the charming Bucky, approached with a wink. “Hey there. I see you’re a fan of my alter ego. I have to say, it’s always amazing to meet someone who appreciates Bucky like you do.”

James McAvoy was next. My heart skipped a beat as he extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, YN. I’ve heard you’re quite the fan. Your enthusiasm is contagious.”

I shook his hand, barely able to contain my excitement. “James, I can’t believe it’s really you. You’ve been my favorite actor for as long as I can remember.”

Evan Peters and Anthony Mackie joined in, their smiles infectious. “So, YN, what’s it like having Oscar Piastri as your boyfriend?” Evan asked playfully. “Is he as impressive off the track as he is on it?”

I laughed, still trying to get my head around everything. “Oh, absolutely. He’s amazing.”

Scarlett Johansson then stepped forward, her presence commanding. “YN, I’ve heard so much about your passion for the Marvel universe. It’s wonderful to see such enthusiasm.”

We spent the next few hours in a whirlwind of conversation, photo ops, and laughter. I felt like I was floating on a cloud. Oscar watched with a knowing smile, clearly enjoying the joy his surprise had brought me.

I chatted with each of them about their roles, my favorite scenes, and even got some behind-the-scenes stories. Chris Evans regaled me with tales from the set of the Captain America films, while Robert Downey Jr. shared funny anecdotes about his time as Iron Man.

When it was time to say goodbye, I was reluctant to leave. I hugged each of them, my heart full of gratitude and happiness. “Thank you all so much. This has been a dream come true.”

As I walked out with Oscar by my side, I felt like I was walking on air. “You really outdid yourself this time,” I said, leaning into him.

Oscar kissed my forehead. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. You deserve every bit of happiness.”

The ride back to our hotel was quiet, filled with comfortable silence and shared smiles. I knew I’d be reliving every moment of the day in my mind for a long time. The memories would be a cherished part of my life, thanks to Oscar and his incredible surprise.

As I finally settled into bed, I found myself replaying the day’s events. It felt like I was living in a Marvel movie, where everything came together perfectly in the end. I had my superhero dreams come true, and it was all thanks to the love of my life who knew me better than anyone else.

-

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2 @itsmiamalfoy @jeffs77 @ilivbullyingjeongin @forevercaffeinated-lee @daemyratwst @gulphulp @callsignwidow @f1wintermoon13 @teenwolf01 @victoriassecret101 @hiireadstuff @formulaal l l @kazza72584 @zabwlky1999 @dark-night-sky-99 @rougekiki @xoscar03 @jess-wither @bountychanti @dhanihamidi i @tellybearryyyy @a-panseuxalmess s @love-simon @tallrock35 @iiaik0ii @Milkyymelanine @ilovsyou3000morgan @styl1shl1v @eddieharrington @hellowgoodbye

[ttheatre-trashh]

Read me yap about original kids ride the cyclone :333

for any more info about this show!! Look through the tag here

Dream of life. Jane doe walks on stage, and is kind of crumpled over, and slowly makes her way to stand up with stiff movements. This is the only song I have a recording of. As she slowly stands up, Jane doe lifts her head.

She has an echo effect added to her voice, and it sounds amazing. 

The Karnak is honestly hilarious, I loved his comedic timing. I can’t tell if he also had the echo effect, or if he was just an amazing voice actor. Sometimes he would mess up a line, but very quickly turn it into a robotic stutter, which was pretty smart. Love this guy. 

For virgil, they projected a projection of him onto the backdrop curtain. He was so silly I loved himmm. There was a fun transition from tiny rat form to anthro bass player. The bass solo was also great obv. 

Uranium suite was incredible. Ocean has almost this Disney channel main character voice? Idk but it’s so good. 

Mischa was slacking the whole time duh. Pulled out his phone at some bits. Ricky looked bored out of his fucking minddddd. Constance is just the sweetest ever I will kill for her. Noel is amazing and I love him. Like the pure SASS and EVERYTHING about him. Ricky the whole time stared into the audience like “kill me now”. We made eye contact a few times it was nice haha

After Uranium Ocean is kind of like,, calm but freaking out?? She kicks Karnaks box a few times throughout the show, including here. There are fun lights flickering and sound effects. Her voice is squeaky and cracky when she panicked or whatever. Again, karnaks comedic timing is amazing. 

What the world needs was so good. Oceans voice is amazing, the choreography was so snappy and swishy and sassy, very ocean. They hold up signs that spell out OCEAN, and in the flip side of them there’s a picture of ocean. Everyone was on point, and oceans delivery of every line was perfect. Like, the pure disgust she has when she goes “and a transformer movie” like babe has a personal vendetta against transformer movies.

I cannot stress enough how on point the choreography was, during the whole show, but like, I’m obsessed with the choreography of this song. There was a lot of hand flicking of that makes sense? Some fun little kicks.  There are tiny clips of it in some of the promo. 

After wtwn, ocean is freaking out. Karnaks delivery is perfect “blah blah blah needs a unanimous vote” oceans face drops. Long pause. « from each. And every. Member of the choir.”  

When ocean says she “loves” Jane, jane reaches out her arms and runs to hug her, but ocean dodges her and Jane doe just ends up almost running  into a wall. When she says she loves Noel, he just looks at her like “bitchgetthefuckawayfrommeew” and does his gay little pose. 

(E, the actor for Noel, uses they/them, so if I use those I’m talking about the actor) The play was so cute. After Noel said his line, ocean started crying and screaming and her and Constance were whining “NOOOEEEELL WHY DID YOU SAY TAHTTTTTT!!???” “UGH you always ruin these things!!!”  And stuff haha. It was great. 

Noel’s monologue was incredible, he fell to the floor during the dramatic bit about wanting to feel, goddamit.

 “I wanted to wake up,” fake throwing up for a second “in my own VOMIT.” huge grin. “Missing TEETH!” 

Noel goes behind the curtain/projector screen that they have on stage and starts singing. At about “I write poems to burn my firelight,” he comes out in Monique costume. Monique was so cool, she had fishnets, the iconic black wig, and a dress just like kholbys iconic one, but there was a little bow in the front,  and the skirt had strips of ripped fabric on the skirt. 

Again, the choreography of this song is amazing. everyone had chairs, and it was very leg-y? If that makes sense? But like in a “sexy” way, not an “Irish jig” sort of way.  Super snappy and clean cut. vocals are amazing, obviously. Ricky is kindof ominously standing in a corner with a beret and a cigarette playing the accordion. 

For the kiss, Monique and Constance danced together, then Monique and Ricky. Then Monique slapped Ricky, and Mischa comes over and they kissed. Adorable. 

The ending was so good, like the final « if I could have just one dream/if he could have just one dream/id be. That fucked. Up GIRL./HEY ». Mwah. Chefs kiss.

Every story’s got a lesson was so silly. Constance nailed the improv scene. This Ocean just. Needs to be in control. All the time. But like?? I’m making her sound bad but I felt bad for her because she wants everything to go her way but she’s not great at expressing that in a positive way. Any way, Constance gets excited at the end, like, « so I go out and do all. The. Drugs. 😁😁 » her little « BATH SALTS FOR EVERYONE!!! 😃😃 » 

Anyways. Mischa. 

Spence is literally an amazing mischa, he was so good. He started beatboxing really badly into the mic before he started talking about feeling, and the audience laughed. His accent was on point, and he spoke really naturally. Like, it didn’t feel super forced unlike some other Mischa’s I’ve heard (all Mischa are amazing some are just better accents yk)

This song is awesome was so fun. He had a tight white undershirt under his button down, which kind of just added to the silliness of the song instead of just being shirtless, yk? He had a chain and hat, duh. 

Everyone had these massive light up glasses, and Ricky was wearing a robot mask. It was so silly and I loved it. They did the iconic thing where they held onto Mischa’s unbuttoned shirt and made us flow to look like wind blowing

Omg. Talia. So this was so good. 

He awkwardly yet confidently re buttons his shirt, which the audience laughed at but I was like “yall stop that this gets emotional” but I think I’m just a bitch lol. 

The Talia monologue was incredible. Just, yes. Delivery was amazing, everything. I cried. A lot.  Mischa scrolled on his phone when something new appeared in the projector, like the photos and stuff. They used the curtain/backdrop as a projector screen, and there was the footage of Talia and Mischa. The wedding stuff and romance and shit. 

It was so sweet. I don’t have anything special to say about it, the monologue was just amazing. I completely broke down. 

For Talia, oh god. This was genuinely of the best things I’ve ever seen live. Spence’s voice is amazing, and again, I sobbed through this whole song. 

Everyone had the traditional costumes, and the girls had the big skirts, with the projections of Talia on them. I wasn’t sure if they were gonna do that, but it was beautiful. They also had the projection on Mischa’s chest at the end, when he’s belting. I completely fucking lost it.  

And then there’s the iconic nischa hug.  My heart. 💜 oh my god. 

MY FINGERS HURT (I LOST MY FIRST COPY OF THIS??? I HAD TO RE TYPE THIS???) BUT @noelgruberfr and @knockoff-conlon FEEL FREE TO FINISH THIS !!!

[simp-ly-in-love]

Micah Sickfic

Micah taking care of his sick S/O (gender neutral)

***

He’s a bastard.

He shouldn’t be finding this nearly as charming as he is. Micah was sure you’d no doubt be cussing him out as the weirdo he is if you could hack your way into his inner monologue right about now. Not that it was ever particularly hard to guess what he was thinking…

But you’re much too weak for that at the moment. Shivering under a mountain of blankets, a cool rag resting on your forehead to try and reduce the fever you were sporting. Snotty and clammy looking, and yet Micah couldn’t get enough.

He chalks his spike in affections up to seeing a new side of you- you’ve been almost painfully forthright with him since he arrived. He finds your dependence on him incredibly endearing. It helps reassure him that no matter how sharp your tongue, you feel safe enough with him to let him see you this vulnerable.

And it’s not like he minds spoiling you a bit :)

“Alright angel, soups on” he coos, carrying over a bowl. He sits himself on the edge of your bed, offering up a spoonful to you after blowing on it gently to help it cool. You give a weak shake of your head, it’s frankly all you can muster at the moment, which makes Micah frown in turn.

“I know you feel like crap, but this will help- promise. It’ll warm you up… you can manage a few bites, yeah?” he presses. A few beats pass, but slowly you shift to a sitting position.

“That’s it baby” Micah praises with a grin. The way your skin flushes just a shade darker at his praise makes Micah think that not all of it is because of the fever…

He drops words of encouragement after every bite you take, allowing you to tap out when half the bowls contents are drained.

“I knew you could do it! How was it?” He asks, setting the bowl on your nightstand in order to give his full attention to you.

“I can’t really taste anything… but it did help warm me up” you admit. Who’d have thought that the first time you’d be trying Chef Micah’s food would be when you couldn’t taste at all?

He smiles once more, leaning over place a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“M-micah” you scold with a shudder. His lips feel incredibly warm, not to mention you’re a bit sensitive from the achiness of your cold.

“Still hot” Micah assesses, ignoring your fluster.

“You could have used your hand… or the thermometer” you pout, laying back down. “You’ll get sick”

A soft smile breaks out at your concern for him. “Awww I didn’t know you cared so much, Angel”

“I don’t… I just don’t want to drop everything to take care of you if you get sick” you grumble back. It just makes Micah’s grin grow further. If you’re well enough to start sassing him back, then you must be on the up an up.

Under normal circumstances, he’d tease you back “It means so much to me that you’d take care of me when I’m sick <3″, but he lets it slide. “Well lucky me, my immune system is as solid as a rock angel. Impenetrable” he replies instead.

You barely hum in response, looking like you’re just about ready to dose off again. Micah moves to grab your rag, preparing to fetch you a new one when you grab his wrist.

“Thank you Micah…” Maybe it’s the fever making you delirious, or maybe it’s the fact that you’re looking at him with so much sweetness, but it makes his heart jump in his throat. He has to physically restrain himself from snuggling you to death in that moment, sickness be damned.

“Anything for you”

He switches your grip so that he is now holding onto your hand, laying a featherlight kiss onto the back of your it before leaving the room, bowl and rag in hand.

You smile, squeezing the plush he gifted you weeks ago just a little tighter before drifting off to sleep…

[merbear25]

Hello, nice to meet you 😊

This is the first time I send you a request, I’ve seen your post about kinktober.

Can I please ask Day 15 with Hongo (the doctor of Red Haired pirates) x fem reader?

I hope it’s ok, thank you and have a nice day 😘

Hello, I was honestly nervous to write this because I don't know this character super well...But I tried my best! Hope you like it 💜🧡

There weren’t many that caught his attention, but ever since you joined the crew, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You carried yourself with grace, making your presence known whenever you entered the room. A marvel to behold, he couldn’t help but want to get to know you better.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem! Reader is a Red Haired pirate, sensation play (earplugs, blindfold), breast play, aftercare, protected sex

A pleasure that creeps up on you (Hongo)

Wandering souls were caught by the current where they’d either sink or be carried to shore. You showed resilience, taking the attempted chips at your structure in stride and never failing to rise above the rest. Any crew would’ve been lucky to have your talents aid in their personal adventures. However, with so many in it for the wrong reasons, morals clashed and you were left to fend for yourself time and time again.

An emperor's reputation, let alone his crew’s, was met with skepticism. Even with that, you were as charmed as the rest of the village when they washed on shore. Their friendly attitudes, inviting conversations, and charming stories: one could imagine themselves running off with people like them—and you did.

The shore you drifted up on turned out to be the Red Force—a ship that sailed from each and every corner of the world would become your forever home.

A lively party, drinks galore, nothing brought people together more than celebrations. With the Red Hair Pirates’s most recent success, there was no better reason to crack open a few cold ones.

Hundo casually drifted over to your side, which he did nearly every time there was reason to cheer. When he motioned to sling his arm around your shoulder, you lost your footing.

“Hey, now! Don’t want you hitting your head on something,” he poked light fun at your clumsiness while catching you. “Maybe it’s time you called it quits for the night?” He laughed.

“This is my first one! I’m not even buzzed!” Your attempt at salvaging your grace after such an embarrassing misfooting wasn’t hitting like you hoped it would.

With him getting a kick out of your pouting face, you gently slapped his arm. “Oi, you’re going to make me spill mine too if you aren’t careful!” He teased.

“Looks like you’ve already done that yourself.” You pointed at the drops of booze bleeding through his shirt.

Gulping down the mouthful swishing around, he grinned at you. “Suppose I should take it off then, huh?” He winked.

Your breath caught in your throat and you fiddled with the loose fabric on your pants when imagining him practically half-naked. As if he wouldn’t notice your flustered mess of a self.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a loss for words.” He continued, obviously flirting with you. “Not to worry, though.” He leaned in a bit closer. “I like you both ways just fine.”

A strange, distorted sound came out of you because of the inability to process your own emotions. Feeling the heat nipping at your face, you excused yourself to your sleeping quarters. Closing your door behind you, you lightly patted your face to shake yourself out of it.

“He’s a friend…a good friend! H-he was just teasing you…” That last part of your hush-toned monologue sat heavy on your heart.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Hongo asked with slight concern. Because you were taking too long to snap yourself out of your current state of butterflies, he cracked the door open. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, you–” you steadied your breath, “you didn’t.”

He held an attentive eye on your body language, so that if there was any sign that he was unwelcomed, he would back off. “Does this mean you don’t like me back?” The caution in his question nearly made your heart shatter.

“I do like you…I like you a lot actually,” your voice lowered and your eyes flickered across his face..

His eyes were locked on your lips, their slight quiver of uncertainty in his actions only made him want to claim them even more. He leaned in slightly, giving you a chance to deny him, but with no objections made, he quickly lost himself to the fires of passion.

You eagerly accepted his hunger with one of your own. His hands roamed over your body, wanting to touch every inch of you. As they went up your shirt, you whimpered against his lips—the circling around your nipples and the teasing tugs sent shivers down your spine.

“You like that?” Watching your eyes flutter shut from the heat rising between you, he whispered against your ear, “I can think of a few more ways to make you feel even better. Do you want that? Tell me you want it as badly as I do.” The faint pleading in his tone alluded to how long he’d been interested in you.

“Yes, I do…Want it so badly.”

He cupped the sides of your face, deepening your kiss to the point of making you weak in the knees. “I want to try something with you.” Guiding you onto the bed, he reached in your nightstand and pulled out the earplugs you slept with. 

“You know, when one of your senses is cut off, the others become far more sensitive.” He handed them to you. You started to put them in as he took off the scarf from around his waist. “Now, imagine when two of them are muted.” You let him tie the scarf around you, completely blocking your vision.

Your chest heaved from anticipation, and your gasp sounded so much sweeter when you felt him removing your blouse. Holding you closely, his tongue swirled around your hardened nipple. Sucking it, nipping at it to get any more of those darling moans out of you. His hands gripped at your waist and possessively raked down to your hips. Squeezing handfuls of your ass, he took your trembling as permission to go further.

Yanking your bottoms off, he swiftly lifted you and threw you higher up on the bed. Your shaky yelp from the sudden toss was giving him everything he’d been after. Climbing on top of you, the sight of your exposed body quaking from the expectation of what was to come lured a low groan out of him. Your soft hands reaching out to feel where he was further whetted his appetite for you.

He took one of your hands and pressed it to his lips. The kisses he trailed down your arm and to your neck had you begging for more. 

Reaching between your thighs, his fingers glided between your wet folds. Your body was good and ready for him—such a delicious moment to soak in.

Taking in one of your breasts in his mouth again, his finger swirled around your clit. He groaned against your sensitive skin as your whimpers graced his ears. Your fingers combed through his hair, caressing him while he made you fall apart effortlessly.

Plunging a finger into your aching core, just a few pumps had you panting like a bitch in heat. Leaning up to your sweet face, he lightly licked at your earlobe. The quaked moan was almost too much to bear.

“You’ve wanted this as much as I have, haven’t you?” His voice was husky from his own desire. You could barely make out his question—your own moans being amplified in your own fantasy of what was going to happen next.

He pulled out a condom, never daring to cum inside unless previously agreed upon. Even with his cock wrapped, filling you with his full length was just as satisfying as he ever imagined.

Your slick walls squeezing around him, the way your back arched pushing him deeper, and you blindly grabbing at his arms: there was no one he’d rather be with. He wrapped his arms around you, slamming into you with ruthless abandon while your sobs and moans filled the air around you.

His hands tangled in your hair, and he pressed his forehead gently against yours. Your pants entwined with his as he picked up the pace. The kiss he placed on your forehead made you whimper his name, and the feverish ones he trailed along the side of your face had you melting under him.

With your walls spasming around him, he knew you were hanging on by a thread. Your legs wrapped around him, your nails clawed at his back, and your cries were becoming increasingly more desperate.

“Yes, yes, yes!” You screamed for him. With your euphoric laced cries, his self-control was quickly waning. You could feel his body shaking against you as the need to give you everything he had was about to burst through the floodgates. 

In a choked grunt, he spilled every drop of himself. The pants of the both of you coming down from your shared high were almost as pleasing to the ear as the height of passion. Collapsing on top of you, he wrapped you in his arms for a moment. You both basked in the afterglow of your first time together, letting the moment wash over you as your bodies still tingled from the lingering rush. 

He removed your blindfold to gaze deeply into those beautiful eyes of yours. Such a lovely color and they were filled with so much affection—just for him. He placed a soft, tender kiss on your forehead, as if making a vow to you. When he pulled away to look at you again, you leaned up to meet his lips.

Letting your passion seep through in another kiss, the tenderness of this one made you swoon in a completely new way. He finally pulled out of you, not spilling a drop when tossing the condom into the trashcan and laid down next to your spent form. His hand ran up your thigh, massaging at the parts you gave a faint huff at.

He nuzzled his face in your hair, holding you close while your body recuperated. Your hands offered the same comforting touch, neither of you wanting that moment to end.

[pocketseizure]

Kohga meets his hero in Tears of the Kingdom. Said hero, Ganondorf, has no clue who Kohga is. Shenanigans (shenaniganons if you will) ensue

The Demon King was perfect. Kohga had expected him to be perfect, of course, but not this perfect.

A chiseled face scowled above shoulders that could bear the weight of the full earth in all its fecundity. A magnificent cascade of flame-red hair framed his noble mien. Kohga was a fine specimen himself and not one to be daunted by even the most remarkable physical beauty, but it was difficult to concentrate with two necrotic phantoms clutching his arms behind his back in the inexorable grip of their malice-encrusted fingers.

Not that he was complaining. It was a stroke of sheer gorgeous serendipity that his latest foray into the upper troposphere had brought him down precisely into the sanctum of the legendary Demon King beneath Hyrule Castle. Kohga cursed himself for not having ascertained the location earlier, but he approved. Only a true genius would launch his attack from under the very feet of his enemies.

“What foolish creature dares to disturb me?” the Demon King demanded. “I await the Hylian hero, and you are not he.”

The phantoms clutched Kohga tighter. He could feel the searing burn of their grip through the heat-resistant fabric of his uniform, but he was not afraid. He considered it a glorious honor to be treated as a threat.

“I am Kohga, the leader of the Yiga Clan. We are your humble followers, my lord, and we have dedicated ourselves body and soul to your service.”

A deep frown creased the Demon King’s face, granting him an even more powerful appearance of masculine ruggedness. “I know all of my servants, from the lowliest Bokolin to the mightiest Frox, and I do not know you. Explain yourself.”

Nothing could have pleased Kohga more. “Since time immemorial, we of the Yiga Clan have sought to undermine the royal family of Hyrule to pave the way for the coming of your lordship,” he boasted. “We have yet to find the princess, but we of the inverted eye keep a close watch on her chosen knight, striking whenever the opportunity presents itself.”

The Demon King’s amber eyes narrowed. “So you say, yet still he walks this land.”

“You are not wrong, your lordship, but this is not a cause for concern. Our strength lies in numbers, and in probabilities. I have fought the knight four, no, five times myself, and we acquire valuable information with every confrontation. In our last battle, I perfected the rocket technology capable of blasting us into space! Well, I mean,” Kohga corrected himself, “technically into the stratosphere, but mark my words. At the rate we’re going, we’ll make it to the moon! Why, just the other day, I –  ”

The Demon King raised a hand to interrupt his monologue. “You survived your battles with the knight who wields the sacred sword,” he said, slowly curling his fingers into a fist.

“Y-yes.”

“Five times, you say.”

Kohga nodded, beginning to sweat under his mask. There was nothing he loved more than enacting performances of his battles with Link, but it only just now occurred to him that he may have accomplished a feat that not even the mighty Demon King himself had managed to pull off.

“Very well.” The Demon King nodded, and the magic of his phantoms dissolved in a gradual shedding of crimson light. “I’ve long wondered about what lies beyond the borders of this miserable land. Now tell me,” he continued, a devilish grin spreading across his divinely handsome face, “everything you know about rockets.”

[loganwritesprobably]

Whatever it takes

Dragon & Reader request for anon for my 200 followers event

Content/Warnings: Dragon & GN!Reader, Dragon is looking East, platonic relationship, fluff, inspired by Whatever It Takes by Imagine Dragons

You softly approached Dragon from behind. He was precisely where you'd known that he'd be, standing on the balcony outside of his office, looking out toward the East.

"Cornelia asked me to pass these along, sir." You said, holding out a few papers to Dragon, and after a brief pause he tore his gaze away from the horizon to take the papers from you. He flicked through them, and nodded. One final glance spared for the horizon later, Dragon led the way into his office, setting the papers onto an ever growing stack on his desk.

You remembered the day you first met Dragon. He'd been a younger man back then, and far less quiet. Less brooding. He'd been a young man who inspired the masses.

"Do you know why I do what I do?" He'd asked you, a beer in hand and a grin in place on his face.

"Why?" You asked, even though you were sure he'd start monologuing. You wanted to listen.

"I want my name to be on the lips of thousands. Not because I want to be worshipped, but because I want to be known for helping people who need it. I want to be able to do whatever it takes to change the world. I feel like I was born to do this, like there's freedom in my veins. I have to share it, because I remember a time I didn't feel like this and nobody should have to feel like that every day. I want to be a symbol, not of a movement, but of what our world could be. I want to spread.. freedom and health and joy." Dragon finished, looking down into his cup. He chanced a look over at you to find you smiling. "I don't know if that makes sense."

"I'll follow you, Dragon. That sounds like a cause I can support."

"Are you alright, Dragon?" You asked. You didn't often use his name anymore, but in soft and gentle moments like these, it felt important.

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asked in response and you just sighed. You rounded his desk to sit atop the side closest to him, reaching out to take a hand of his in your own.

"I'm your friend. Talk to me." You pleaded gently, squeezing his hand softly.

"The dawn is coming. I know it is. It'll rise in the East, and I think it's going to rise without me." It was such a silly thing to be upset about, because it wasn't rising without him, it was rising because of him.

"That boy of yours is magnificent. You created him with freedom in his veins, it's what makes his very heart beat, and you gave him that gift. The dawn isn't coming without you, it's coming because of you. Because of everything you've done since the day you left the marines," you insisted, pulling him closer to look straight into his eyes, "you'll be there at the final war, and we'll win. Together. Because you told me once that it isn't about you - it's about the people. Don't forget that now." Dragon smiled, just a small fragile thing, but he pulled you into a hug like he hadn't given in years, and your heart softened.

"Thank you for staying by my side all these years." He said softly, and you could only laugh, a grin on your face because he'd put it there all those years ago.

"There's nowhere I'd rather be."

Requests are currently closed

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Tags: @claryeverlarkf @uselessboots @cainnoable

[talaok]

Heyy, first, I'd like to say that I really love your writing, keep it up!

And I'd like to make a request, I know we all went crazy over Pedro on SNL (he looked so handsome!!!), and I would love to read a Pedro x Reader behind the scenes of the show, her watching, supporting, and being proud of Pedro, and then the two of them going out together to the SNL after party, dancing, kissing, enjoying each other's company, very fluffy, and a bit of smut at the end?

Pairing: Pedro pascal x f!reader

warnings: very very faint allusion to smut

a/n: he did look handsome and thank you so much love <3 (and yes this ask skipped the line bc as always it wouldn't have made sense for me to post it in two weeks)

It was incredible how nervous he was. He'd done this already, and yet he was acting like a kid like at his first recital.

"you're gonna do amazing baby" you promised, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek "Now go out there and have fun"

His eyes anxiously danced around your face

"my heart's beating so fast" he huffed a laugh

"I know" you smiled, stoking his cheek "but remember, you have nothing to be scared of, you've done this already, and you were amazing at it, so just relax"

"ok" he took a breathy sigh "yeah, you're right. I can do this"

"that's it" you grinned, but before you could say anything more he was kissing you like it was the last time he ever could.

"Pedro?" his assistant's voice brought you back to reality "It's time"

You smiled as he leaned away.

"I love you" he promised, the honesty of that statement shining through his eyes

"I love you too baby" you murmured "Now go!" you said, giving him a playful push "Break a leg!"

__ __ __

As you already knew, everything went perfectly smoothly, he and Bad Bunny were an amazing duo, and you could just see how well they got on even with the cameras off.

The monologue was perfect, and you didn't miss any opportunity to cheer and laugh every time you could, but as much as you'd loved it... nothing could top the Ms. Flores sketch.

You loved it last time, and you loved it this time too.

Even just seeing him in the costume made you laugh (you had filled your camera roll with photos of him) but then combined with the actual sketch... it was just perfection.

You almost didn't want him to change, you kind of liked the constant teasing of calling him mama and telling him just how sexy he was, but unfortunately, he did change.

Imagine what a look that must have been for the afterparty instead of that old shirt he wore everywhere.

But then again, considering how much he was sweating from the dancing maybe it was a good call.

"thank you for tonight" he spoke over the music, as the song changed to a slower one "I couldn't have done it without you sweetheart"

"oh stop" you rolled your eyes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as you swayed to the music "You would have been amazing regardless." you smiled "I'm surprised they haven't offered you a role as a permanent part of the cast yet"

"No I'm serious" he laughed softly "I don't know if I would have gotten on that stage without you"

"baby..." you cooed, touched by his words "I love you. I'm always gonna be there for you"

"and me for you" he murmured, before kissing you.

You could only vaguely feel everyone around you and hear the music, it was just you and him.

He always made you feel like that.

"I've just realized I was so anxious for tonight that I haven't told you how beautiful you look yet," he said, making you blush faintly.

"You look beautiful too" you murmured, a mischievous smirk pulling at your lips "Not as much as you did when you were dressed as Ms. Flores, but you're not so bad"

He couldn't help but laugh at that

"You'll never let that go, will you?"

"nope" you chuckled, earning another kiss, this time deeper and much... hungrier.

You whimpered into his mouth as his hand on your back started traveling dangerously low.

"baby-"

"you're gorgeous sugar"

you bit down a grin at that

"I know that look"

"what look" he silenced you with another kiss "I'm not doing anything" he breathed, his lips now on your neck

And as much as you weren't completely conscious of everyone around you, a part of your brain still was.

"I think it's time we go home baby" you whispered

"yeah" he nodded, meeting his lips with yours again "Yeah I think it is"

[eight-cats-in-a-box]

Goddamn I am on a ROLL

Some alien horse fluff bc I was inspired

No warnings

Enjoy your food Al-An simps, lord knows we're starving

"Cease this behaviour immediately. I will not entertain it any longer."

You grinned up at Al-An from where you were draped across their arms, scooching around a little bit to get more comfortable. "And what's that supposed to mean?" You know he picks up on the teasing lilt in your voice when a faint ripple of annoyance (orange) flickers through the channels of light criss-crossing their frame, fading as quickly as it came.

"It means that if you do not stop, I will drop you." Despite the threat behind the words, there's no real anger, or even annoyance. They don't mean it, and you know that. "No you won't." The smug satisfaction you feel permeates your voice as your Architect lets out a pretty damn good approximation of a heavy sigh.

"...No, I won't. But I would appreciate it if you would stop being a nuisance." A light blue rippled across Al-An's frame at your offended gasp. "How dare you! I am being incredibly helpful, and you're being so rude as to turn me away!" Your dramatics draw a laugh from them (deep blue) as you peek out from behind your hand, giggling.

You quiet, snuggling up to Al-An's warmth as he works, not bothering to try and see what they're doing- it's highly unlikely you'd understand it anyway. Their colours fade back to that royal purple as he finds their rhythm once again, moving through the work smoothly. You break the silence first.

"Have I told you I love you yet today?" Al-An twitches slightly, a bit startled (pale yellow), and looks down at you.

"Several times, yes. And as I have said every time, I love you too." They answer calmly, sweetly (for him, at least) and it has you swooning, reaching up to kiss over their faceplate, smiling as he leans into the touch.

As you pull away, beaming, a satisfied smugness (blue-gold) washes over them, spilling into your bond. But you feel it shift to worry (peach) as Al-An takes notice of your physical state.

"You have not been sleeping," they murmur, and you feel worry not your own. "This will be remedied." They set their work down, making sure everything is in its place before heading off to the observatory. "You should take better care of yourself. You know you only get one storage medium, so why do you insist upon treating it like this?" You huff at their quiet scolding, sighing softly as they settle into their nest of various cushions and blankets in the observatory.

"You're such a mom, Al-An." You huff as you wiggle around, getting comfortable where they've lain you.

"Well, someone has to take care of you, and if it is not you, then it will be me."

"Hmm. I guess." There's silence for a few minutes. Not complete silence, the monotony broken by your breathing and the faint hum of Al-An's systems. It's shattered completely when you speak. "What were you working on?"

They're surprised (yellow) and a little confused (lime). "You will not understand. Why do you wish to hear me speak of things you know you will not understand?

You smile softly, and revel in the warmth your response fills him with. "Al-An, even if I can't understand, I could listen to you talk for hours on end. There's just something about how passionate you get. It's really cute." They sigh, warm love washing over the two of you, shared and multiplied by your bond. 'That's the nice thing about this,' you think. 'I don't have to wonder what he's feeling. I just know...'

You're startled from your loving reverie by their quiet agreement. "Very well. This is another...'human thing', I take it?" You nod. "Alright then."

As Al-An begins a monologue about their latest project, you feel yourself slip off into dreamland. With anyone else, you'd be worried for your safety, wary of a knife in your back. But this isn't just anyone else. It's Al-An. And you've never felt safer than when you're by their side.

Masterlist