#vigorously fans self

[weyounthevorta]

Jordan Collier, The 4400 (2004-2007)

I guess I’m a sucker for boys with brown hair, big hazel eyes, and a cute nose.

[mosylufanfic]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso Characters: Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor Additional Tags: Tumblr Prompt, Sexual Content, Comlink Sex, congratulations to myself i've invented my first tag of 2024 Series: Part 3 of kinktober 2023. Summary:

"Did you touch yourself at the thought of me?"

The husky rasp of his voice is practically more confirmation than the word itself. "Yes."

Or: Getting creative.

-

from @astromechs

[peterlorrefanpage]

Peter Lorre's Shirt From "The Constant Nymph" (1943)

Off-white with stiff grey front and matching French cuffs, worn by Peter Lorre as Fritz Bercovy in "The Constant Nymph." Sold in 2003 for $931.00.

[snoopyhq]

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ we should just kiss like real people do

NOT using cherry wine because the song has been through too many bastardizations already, and i'm a hozier fan before i'm anything else. to use cherry wine would be a disgrace, even if it has the 'perfect' line for a fic like this)

type: viktor x vampire reader

summary: headcanons and then a drabble of an instance where you feed

warning(s): blood, vampirism

word count: 921

a/n: been thinking about vampirism a whole lot lately as well as feeling down, so now i cope through tumblr fics. i love viktor, i wish i felt as strongly about real life people like i do for him

For a creature that's considered parasitic, the relationship you have with your eccentric scientist proved quite mutualistic

When you first stalked him on his walk home that late, late night, he had seemed like ordinary prey, easy to sink your teeth into and forget about

Something stopped you

Maybe it was that look in his eyes, flickering like a flame in the dark of that alleyway, refusing to die

They were so determined, so full of life

How could you ever drain them of that spark? It wasn't right

You could sense his fear, so palpable in the air, but he stood firm. His grip on his cane steady, his posture straight as he stared right at you with those lovely eyes, a million stories flitting through them

The eyes of someone who fought to survive since the moment he was born

You felt yourself slowing down, and then dropping to your knees completely

What were you doing? Were those tears in your eyes? You've become so jaded

Immortality had made you nothing

This mortal, so brief in the fabric of time, and his life already so weak and waning, had more... what was it? vigor to him

Lust was something you knew very well. Bloodlust. You embodied it. That urge that could never be satisified, the driving force that keeps your miserable legs moving, your body agile and agitated

His lust was one for life. For pursuit too, as you came to find out

A deal was struck that night; knowledge in exchanged for food

You allowed him to observe you and ask his questions, to witness your hunts (on animals now. less thrilling, but you digress)

In return, he became a sustainable food source. You didn't have to go out and about in the night now and get paid in stupid drunks or those rotten enforcers for your efforts

How lovely, to have something consistent for once

You could get used to this

Get used to him

divider below from @/dollywons !!!

The quiet comfort of the bedroom reminded you of your old crypt, in a way. It was dark. The sheets were soft and meticulously kept. It smelled of leather and old books and dried ink on fresh paper. The new addition was Viktor.

You'd started lounging about in his home, and his room became your favorite corner of the house. It became ritual for him to joke about having a coffin fixed there so you won't have to hog the blankets. Not his blankets. They were to be shared now, and he was fine with that. The coffin idea was still appealing though.

Tonight interrupted the quiet. You lingered before him, eyeing the pale curve of his neck. It was taking all your self control to not pounce on him immediately.

"Are you comfortable?" you asked.

He shifted around a bit, and then nodded.

"I'll try to keep accurate time. See if you're more greedy than last time," he joked.

Tsk. It wasn't that funny. (It is). You weren't as hungry as before.

Now you hovered above him, having laid him down. There was less hesitation this time, and you wonder if he'd note that down in his journal. You both did this song and dance enough by now to be comfortable with one another.

Still, the act of feeding was one of savagery. That can't change. When mixed with romance? It clashed, horribly. Your inherent nature versus what had been nurtured.

The taste of his blood filled your mouth, and you could sing to the heavens. If such a creature like yourself were allowed to. You weren't sure on the terms and conditions of that. Regardless, he was so sweet. A heady vermillion ambrosia on your tongue.

You were taking such care to be gentle with him.

You didn’t want to hurt him, but your love was violence, the draining of life, and the dark urges that lurk beneath every man, and he was already going limp.

Shit.

You pulled back immediately, the red still dripping from your teeth and down your throat. It mirrored the punctures on his. Viktor, the stubborn bastard, gripped the edge of your sleeve. He tugged insistently.

"I'm fine. I'm not as fragile as you think," he said, miffed.

“Too bad. I’m full,” you slowly pry yourself from his grip.

While he lazed back, you grabbed the first-aid kit. So used to it by now. He didn’t even flinch when you applied the antiseptic. After securing the gauze, you leaned down to brush another kiss against his lips, and he sighed at the slight feel of your fangs against the skin there.

“Was your vampire research quota met?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbow to observe him.

“Very much,” he replied. “I look forward to comparing it with next week’s results.”

As he drifted off in your arms, you felt affection swell in your heart, and a fierce protectiveness over him.

He was strong.

You knew that more than anyone. He walked such a thin line between life and death. You could hear the beat of his heart, the flowing in his veins, and fragility of his tissues and arteries and bones. He pushed on, despite it. Taking his body to limits that had you balking, and you were near invincible.

In your hold, he was so delicate. His body was already thin and frail. So easily breakable. The very thought made you uncomfortable, and you tightened your hold on his sleeping form.

He was strong. You’ll protect him anyways.

[hazelfoureyes]

A Doe in Fall (Part 15)

⟢HumanAlastor x FemaleBurlesquerReader - A Doe in Fall

A burlesquer with a penchant for conning men, you find your latest game interrupted when your next mark saves you from an aggressive fan— by killing him. The chance encounter left you curious, still half convinced you could complete your normal chase. Unbeknownst to you, you were the one being tracked.

Part 1 - Pretty in Red smut💦 Part 2 - Liar smut💦 Part 3 - A Tragedy smut💦 Part 4 - Enough Part 5 - Too Much Part 6 - Learning smut💦 Part 7 - Recognition smut💦 Part 8 - Trust sexual 🥵 Part 9 - Shiny Things Part 10 - Good Deeds Part 11 - Caught Part 12 - Eddie Part 13 - The Release Part 14 - Someone like her smut💦 Part 15 - Silence smut💦📍

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Where we left off: While you set out to find the perfect accessories for your love confession, Brady stopped by Alastor’s home. Alastor lost his temper and scared Brady off the property after giving a tour of the greenhouse. Brady knows just who Alastor is now.

Helpful definitions this part

Box - Bar ✦ Cheese it - Run away ✦ To be pinched - to be arrested ✦ Hooch - Alcohol ✦ Nightcap - A drink before bed, often times alcohol and often times an excuse to be alone together privately

Part 15 Silence

Alastor decides secrets shouldn’t exist between you after his last fuck up and gets straight to the news, which puts a slight kink in your plans for the evening. Namely, professing your love for your suave killer boyfriend. Luckily he has some ideas! Well, one.

「Warnings/Promises: Human!Alastor x Fem!Reader, mention of sexual assault in the context of stating things not happening,  sexy sex time, confessions, coppers, Mimzy’s unlabeled alcohol, the water table, love, partial writing credit to Kellin Quinn, the meaning of flowers, Mimz is short for Mimzy, if you see MINDY or MINZY no you didn’t」

MDNI 💖 🥃 💐

“He knows.” Alastor’s eyes were closed and his palms facing towards heaven, hopefully in prayer to spare his life as he felt sure you’d strangle him.

“Excuse me?” There was a ringing in your ears, vision darkening a little at the edges. You knew exactly who he meant and what they knew, but you needed a second longer to live in your life before.

Alastor had hummed the entire way home from your errands, fingers dancing along the steering wheel. You managed to hide the contents of your bag behind your back as he held the front door open for you, sliding it under the kitchen table when Alastor asked you to take a seat because he had news.

“She knows.” Brady hissed it into the receiver of the first pay phone he found upon leaving Alastor’s home.. His car was parked at a hasty angle just across from a small restaurant. “He killed Tommy.”

He heard Freeman exhale before shuffling off somewhere, “Who?”

“Alastor!” He said it louder than he had meant too, but the confused question his partner sighed slowly in reply seemed to be nothing short of wasting time.

“Alastor.” You breathed it out, you felt your fingertips go cold. Blood flowed to your core, protecting vital organs from the danger your brain knew was nearby. 

“Don’t fret, my love. He will never find a body, never a drop of blood in my home or car.” A clap of his hands, a sparkle in his eyes, “Let's go dancing!”

You shot up, the ludicrous suggestion physically pulling you out of the chair. The wooden legs squeaked as they rubbed against the flooring. This was it, your heart was going to beat so fast and so hard it just gave up the effort. A gulp of air before you felt the room spin again.

Every muscle in your body went slack just as quickly as they’d roared with fearful vigor barely a second before, causing you to lean onto the table with both hands for support. “This is no time for dancing, Alastor!” A wave of nausea made your head hang heavy between your shoulders. Heaviness was a good word for your entire existence at the moment.. 

He fought back a self confident chuckle, knowing the look you’d give him would be sharp enough to cut. “This has been my singular focus for years. I’ve made no mistakes. He has two options left to him. Go crazy hunting down something that doesn’t exist ooor,” he sang the word, “he tells his superiors he thinks a popular radio host and public figure is a mass killer, in which case—,” a wicked grin curled up his face.

“They’ll put you on desk duty, if not send you away on medical leave. You sound… unhinged, Kenny.” Across the lake, in a diner too lit for his migraine, Brady stared at the table between him and Freeman.  “You gotta let it go. You went on his property and insulted his mother and think his reaction is proof he’s a murderer? No, no sir. You need to go home and take a shower. Maybe ask for a couple days and go visit the in-laws. Get out of the city for a bit. Come back fresh faced and bushy tailed, yeah?”

Brady growled, hands running down his face in barely contained frustration, “He threatened my life and then said that he killed Tommy, Ed.”

“What exactly did he say?”

“I asked if it was a threat, he denied it, and I said he killed Tommy, and he said on second thought, yes.”

“He was more likely agreeing that it was a threat. Which is his right, you were trespassing, Ken! With a gun on your hip, bud.”

Brady’s stare was absent of any indication he was there.

“Just— go home, buddy.”

“Let’s go out!” Alastor’s hands slipped around your waist and held you assuredly against him. You were a scared sailor tied to the mast in a storm. You’d survive together or go down as one piece as long as his hands were wrapped around you. The bonds of love keeping you safe.

Love, your eyes looked down to the table beside you, the bag of surprises underneath.

“I thought we were playing it quiet.” Your own voice was miles away. Like a death, you needed time to grasp how changed your world was now. A scrap of your mind tried to remember the story of pandora. 

“That was before. Now there’s no reason to hide! I want to twirl you around a room and steal everyone’s attention. I want people flocking to your theater to see Alastor’s girl in her element.”.

A sentiment so sweet it sliced through your panic with a stark efficiency. The deep seated desire to be more than just wanted, but to be flaunted, eclipsed your very real fear of Brady’s next moves.

“You want people to know you’re with a dancer?” 

Brady who? More important things had come up now. 

Alastor’s smile dropped, thumb wiping a lonely tear from your cheek before you could realize it was there. Backing up from his firm hold, your hands shot to your face. Confused, wiping away the tears forming, you let out a self conscious chuckle. Rarely did you cry let alone around others, yet since Alastor’s arrival it seemed you didn't recognize yourself anymore. 

“You’re a marvelous performer. Why would I not want that?” His smile was mega-watt in the darkening kitchen. “Another bragging point for myself, really.”

Your chin quivered, a thawed anger boiling in your chest. How many times had other women told you how worthless you were for your profession? How many men promised to keep you their dirty little secret, well kept and taken care of? Brady knowing meant… freedom. You could say Alastor’s name as much as you wanted, to whomever you wanted. You could make a scene together. 

“Fuck it, let’s go out.”

“But I’m right.” Brady’s eyes finally met Freeman’s. 

Freeman laughed, a little too loudly, and offered to the waitress and other customers apologetic little bows of his head in their directions. “Fine, maybe. But who fucking cares? Did he kill a kid? Is he raping people? Bustin’ up mom and pop shops for money?” He wasn’t at the station, he wasn't on duty; he could be honest. What harm was there in that?

In the depths of his obsession, Brady took the rhetorical question as a genuine one. “Not that we know of! Where there’s smoke there's fire!”

“For fucks sake. Kenny. Enough. The only thing catching fire here is your reputation. There’s no evidence this man’s done a damn thing, even less than none that he’s murdered multiple people. You’re unwell, pal. You need to back up before you—,” his hand came to rest on his partners across the bright white table. “You’re gonna ruin your life like this.”

“What were your wise words again? Right,” Brady set his money down and slid from the booth, “Who fucking cares.”

“Kenny!” Decorum damned, Freeman shot up and followed Brady, “Don’t be like that. Please.” Heads turned as their peaceful afternoon meals were interrupted by the raised voices. 

“Excuse me! Are you going to finish paying?” A line cook hollered, “Or do we need to call the cops?”

Freeman turned back to see Brady walking off into the rising darkness of the night, a bright ember orange sun setting on his shoulders. A sure sign of fall dying to winter’s early evenings. “No, it’s alright. Sorry.” He closed the door and returned to his booth, wondering what exactly he was witnessing. The fall of a good man? The end of a career? Or something worse? 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It felt like your first date all over again. That same nervous energy hummed between your skin and your bones. The bag had been abandoned beneath the kitchen table for a hasty change of outfits, Alastor practically skipping to the car. 

As you had been buttoning your dress you did have a wild, ‘what the fuck are we doing?’ pass over your head.

It felt like a celebration of …. Being found out?

All the relief of finally admitting a lie without any of the fall out. 

And as the car jostled over the bridge into downtown New Orleans Alastor was grinning brightly. It absolutely was a celebration. He’d finally made a move toward Brady, he’d left his place in the shadows and it was liberating. No more hiding. The scariest part of his hobby had been confronted and nothing would come of it. 

Nothing could come of it. Brady had made too many missteps. It was all over the body language of his partner as he shifted in Alastor’s office chair. You’d been released with a promise of an apology, a clear indicator no one was sympathetic to Brady’s witch-hunt. Alastor was reckless, and impulsive, and sometimes dismissed consequences, but he wasn't stupid. He hadn’t done or said anything conclusively to Brady. The detective had unlocked the door all on his own and Alastor merely held it open as the man stumbled into an unbelievable situation. 

When he explained the interaction to you in more detail (though you were admittedly distracted by him undressing) you felt a small easing of worry roll over you again. He hadn’t found any proof to bring back to the station. It was all conjecture. It was words, and without someone to corroborate, they were as good as a fairy tale. The only person who could back up what had happened was you and you’d take Alastor’s secret to your grave. A little smirk crept up your cheek and you pursed your lips to pull it back. You could imagine his face, Detective Brady’s, asking you to confirm what he knew was true. And how it’d fall when you denied him.

A chill, the wind from the river was cold and unimpeded by the safety of the trees. But soon you were sheltered by buildings and basking in the glow of the lights. 

Your relationship had quickly gone from carefree and curious to a bond held together by a dangerous secret. There was a still a secret to be kept but Alastor’s lungs seemed to take in more air now that the little worm that was the detective was ejected. He hummed freely, fingers again dancing across the broad steering wheel as if across a piano’s keys. The deliciousness of the moment was still stirring in his guts and tingling down his spine. The flash of fear. The panic. His favorite part, arguably. Normally it’s so short lived. 

But even now, he knew Brady had that fear in his heart. And it made Alastor ecstatic. 

Reentering the far-too-fancy restaurant was mortifying, but the host looked at you with a pleasant surprise that let you know you did much better this time around. No smeared makeup, no mussed hair. You got to follow him through the dining room and into the secret door that led down the stairs to Mimzy’s speakeasy. 

Funny, the wealthy had well lit hotel bars with no false front and you all had secret basement floors. 

Which made you pause, ignoring Mimzy’s greeting entirely. A basement in Louisiana? That didn’t make a lick of sense. The river was just a block over, how was this entire place not flooded. You couldn’t linger on it too long though, Alastor pulling you forward by the hand and presenting you to Mimzy.

“Mimzy, the often spoken of but never seen!” His hand gestured to you like a magician to a rabbit. 

“We met already when she came to gather you off the floor.” She didn’t offer her hand, instead keeping one on her hip and one on a drink. Alastor grumbled, he hadn’t wanted to remember that night. 

“Pleased tah meet ya!” 

You noted how her accent only got thicker when she tried to enunciate. 

“Pleasures all mine.” Your own hands fidgeted with your dress. “It’s nice to see Alastor actually has friends.” Alastor protested, you’d met his friends before. But when you asked him to recall anything of depth about them he rolled his eyes. Mimzy laughed too loudly at the comment.

“I’m not sure he’s got many of those. He’s a little hard to love. I think he’d let me drown if his shoes would get ruined.”

“I didn’t invite her here to create a clique of bullies. We came here to drink and dance. In that order, preferably.” Alastor slid onto a stool, “And leather will absolutely get ruined if submerged Mimzy, have some sense.”

Slipping into the seat beside him, you let the two bicker as you focused on the oddness of sitting there with him. Going out was rare, a night in was easier for you both for obvious reasons. The last time you did so you were at his side for less than an hour before he was whisked away to his mistress (murder).

“Three shots sweetheart. We’re celebrating! I took your advice.” Alastor patted the bar when he said it and you tuned back in. What advice?

“And a water.” You added at the risk of sounding like a square.

“Of course you did!” A withering snicker that melted into an embarrassed giggle from Mimzy, “what did I advise, exactly?”

“The ex.” His hand reached over to gripped yours on the bar, “Put the fear of God into him.”

Eyes on your hands, you wondered what exactly he’d said about your ‘ex’ to Mimzy. But you had to trust him. A little nod of your head before you met Mimzy’s smiling eyes. She whirled around and set up the glasses.

As she poured she overflowed the tiny flutes and spilled with every move. Once they were all too full, she let the nondescript bottle come down with a thud. 

Mimzy tapped one shot glass on the bar and raised it, “To God!” She beamed.

“To Fear.” A smirk so wicked you thought you saw his shadow dance across the far wall. He raised it higher than hers.

You quickly raised your glass too, toasting to the real reason for your prolonged freedom, “To Alastor.” His sharp eyes came to wide eye you and softened, smile shortening before pushing his glass forward. A clink and you downed it in time.

“What,” Alastor sputtered, tossing his head back to keep from wretching, “the fuck is that?!”

“How the shit would I know. He rolls it down here and I drink it.” Mimzy shuddered but didn’t seem too affected.

You had both hands gripping your glass of water, gulping it down to wash away the distinct taste of ethanol.  “I don’t think that’s safe for human consumption.”

“This is the stuff that makes people go blind.”  Alastor inspected the shot glass closely. She just shrugged. “Whiskey next. Actual whiskey. As in, it was made to be whiskey and people waited for it to become whiskey.” She rolled her eyes again and leaned down beneath the bar. 

A drop fell on your cheek and reminded you of your question from before, “Hey Mimzy, are we… under the water table? How'd you get a permit for a basement.” Your head turned up to the ceiling, painted black to hide the pipes and beams exposed there. You couldn’t be sure what was above you now, the kitchen? A dining room?

“Permit, ha!” She croaked, “This isn’t on the fucking paperwork. This room doesn’t exist to the city of New Orleans.” She pointed along the far right wall, “We’re built on a hill, this is tech-na-cully the ground floor! Clever, huh?” Mimzy batted her lashes and waited for the praise. Her sweet tone dropped to her natural tenor, “Tell me I’m clever.” She hissed. 

“As ever! Since we’re asking questions, I’ve always wondered why it's called CD?” Alastor’s hand left yours to bring the newly poured whiskey to his nose.  His eyebrows rose in a surprised approval.

Mimzy’s eyes flashed over with anger before she hurriedly looked around for something to fuss the emotion out with. She settled on a dish rag she twisted and wrung tightly, “You nit, it’s a G and a D. It’s called the Golden Dish.” You heard some threads snap. “You’ve been coming here for ages and thought it was a C and D??”

Alastor shrugged, unbothered by the raging bar owner as he took a second large sip.  She whipped the rag at the counter with a snap, “I’m the golden dish!! I’m fancy and beautiful!!” A wet pop of the small towel with every word.

An enlightened, “aah” from Alastor before he turned his head to you, “Ready for that dance?” He told the whiskey he’d be back and spun around to pull you to the center of the small bar.

The music had to stay low to avoid alerting the patrons upstairs with their virgin drinks, but a lively tune had Alastor guiding you through a foxtrot,  Alabama Slide. The piano was all they could allow but it was good enough for the various couples taking to the open space. 

Your right hand in his left, his hand on your back and yours on his shoulder, you moved. Alastor walked forward and you walked back, a turn and you switched your direction. The embrace was arguably everyone’s favorite part of the foxtrot. You had to be close, and you had a good excuse for it. As you turned the edge of your dress slid across your shins just below your knees, free and loose. The bare shoulders were a little cold for the changing weather but it made you feel unrestrained. Your coat was nearby if you felt a draft in the buried first floor Mimzy called a bar. 

Maybe it really would be okay. You’d trusted him so thoroughly so far and Alastor never failed to put you first. If he wasn’t worried, and he truly wasn’t, then maybe you could settle into a comfortable (if still trepidatious) relaxation. When you looked up at Alastor, body pressed into body, you felt small. But again, not in the diminutive sense like some men happily made women. Small in the sense that he could hold you so securely with such ease. 

Your focus shifted to where your hands touched him. Skin on skin in one hand, your fingers just below his collar on his upper back on the other hand. The fabric was cool to the touch. But as your fingers lingered the heat of his body began to bloom through the weave. A blossoming of your own, cheeks tingling pinker. Touch for touch’s sake. No dance to give an illusion of need. You could do more with each other, and that lack of barrier between you two made even a hand in public seem like polite restraint. You knew his appetites now well enough to know what he needed; the excited intimacy of witnessing his worst compulsions and the ease with which touch could replace difficult to articulate words for him. His need to please, to be needed without seeming needy, also spurred him on. But less and less did you see that motivation pushing hungry touches past heavy petting. 

A little jolt of excitement shook up his arm, imperceivable to your hand. 

The difference a bathroom door makes to how much touch felt like scandal was astonishing. The things he felt compelled to do to you in dance halls was thrilling, and yet now, he felt bare under the dim glow of the illicit bar. You felt different than before. He was suddenly embarrassed to remember he dragged you into a bathroom once, but then he remembered how you inspired his hunger and his skin warmed from his neck down. He could taste you in a crowded place with only a piece of wood between you both and a crowd, but dancing so closely with the eyes of arguably his closest friend on him was making him uncharacteristically bashful. 

He opened his mouth to speak but played it off, instead licking his lips and turning you both again as the modest crowd spun around. 

Since he cried so openly into your lap, this was your first time in public with him. Was that why you felt different? He tried to find a word for it but failed. He’d touched you many times, his smirk couldn’t stop itself but he managed to keep it pulled to the left, but now it felt like the first time.

A first date. A first dance. He worried about how heavy his hand was on your back, how sweaty his palm was pressed against yours. There was a worry he could feel at the bottom of his spine, a little itchy thread of wool wrapped around his lower vertebrae. Would you become bored now?

The excitement would be gone with Brady, he feared. Things could be normal, and then you’d see once the blood was washed away and the trunk was empty he was just a man. What good was a man to you? 

He shifted and let you be the one to walk forward while he walked backwards blindly. He needed to step with confidence in your direction to keep the dance graceful and effortless. 

When he looked down at you, you were watching closely behind him. You were focused. And then your eyes flitted back to his and your brow unfurrowed and he watched the shoddy overhead lights sparkle in your stare. The moon could only wish to ever reflect light with such a brilliant clarity. 

He didn’t notice the music had stopped, the piano player flipping pages to find the next tune. You had to tap the shoulder to get his attention back to the room. 

Alastor wondered if songs had always been so short. He gestured to the bar again, where his drink was still waiting. He needed a little more lubrication, just enough to drown the butterflies.

You asked Mimzy if she had rum, and she confirmed she had brown liquor. That wasn’t what you asked, but you just nodded. As you scanned the room, you noticed some people entering from a double door past the dance floor and the piano. A mixed race couple lowered their head as they came down the wide stairs that were maybe half as tall as the ones you came down before. Their hands tightly laced, they joined a group already settled at a table. 

“… it’s nice you let everyone in here, Mimzy.” You said it softly, not necessarily to her just a sentiment you felt the need to express. 

Her eyes shot up and followed the direction you were looking, “Their money's green ain’t it?” She half assed a glass cleaning before pouring the ‘rum’, “Only color I care about.”

You hummed before tilting your head to the double doors, “What's back there?”

“That leads to the backdoor. When I can’t bring people in through the front doors or they’re too drunk,” she paused to glare at Alastor, “to walk through the dining hall.”

Alastor’s posture was perfect as he sipped the drink. He’d only been pushed out through the secret door once before which seemed a reasonable number given Mimzy’s heavy handed pours.

His mind wandered to Brady again, with much annoyance. The way he had smiled when he first appeared on his property. It was a smile that darkened the edges of Alastor’s vision, until all he could see was shining teeth. 

“Have you ever met someone whose smile just feels sinister. Nothing behind it, just teeth.” He mused.

“That’s how most people smile.”

“Mimz, that’s not what I mean—-“, Alastor’s hand came to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

“Ugh I hate you flowery men with your secret meanings. My beau just says what he means and we’re peachy!”

“Simple.” Alastor exhaled through his nose.

“Exactly!” Mimzy didn't notice the insult. 

It was admittedly what he liked about her. He could unwind and relax without worrying too much, as she never dug deeper than the topsoil. 

“Let me speak more plainly, when a wolf bears its teeth do you call it a smile?” Alastor asked the ether. 

Mimzy was stumped, a little huh escaping her perfectly colored lips. That was less plain to her. Alastor gave her a pat on the hand and offered you another dance. 

A cycle of hooch and dance, until you were happy to sway with the room against Alastor’s chest. The butterflies were still, and he could let his head rest atop of yours. How many more nights could he have like that?

You let your vision wander around the room. The bar was quite nice for a speakeasy. The floor was a pretty vinyl. The tables were few but looked like nice sturdy dark wood. 

The walls had posters of singers and ads for cigarettes very lowly lit by small flower shaped sconces. 

A loud bang above your heads stopped you, nearly everyone looking up at the ceiling. Someone had to hit the piano man on the back to silence him.

Another bang and a series of scuffles before a loud knock came to the hidden door most of you had taken down to the bar. 

“Cheese it or get pinched!” Mimzy crawled over the bar and led the charge for the double doors. You and Alastor had barely turned your bodies before the door above the stairs flew open and the light flooded down to the small room. 

You felt hands on your back pushing you through the doors before Mimzy was grabbing you by the arm and dragging you to the right. Your coat was in your hands as someone passed them around in the dark and you put it on out of instinct. Well, you were somewhat sure it was your coat. 

Looking over your shoulder you saw the doors shut as the men began tying the handles together with their ties. It was dark now with the doors shut, you couldn’t see where your man was in the mix. You were being swept up in the half a dozen or so women rushing to something on the wall. 

“Alastor!” You turned back but Mimzy grabbed your wrist and tugged. “We can’t leave him!” Her hand gripped your shoulder and head and pushed you down to make you crouch. A faint light came in before leaving again. Then again. There was some kind of door a few feet up the wall. 

“Leaving the men behind is our right!” She said.

“The only perk.” A stranger giggled. Their mood was mischievous despite the sounds of cops hitting against the double doors.

“Not the only perk.” Someone laughed before a hand in the dark found your shoulder and pushed you down a little further. “Out the little hole ya go.”

You stumbled, shoe catching up the square cut out lip. Another woman helped you keep upright until you were free. You watched the others all emerge from the same place you had — what looked like the exit of a trash shoot. But it was lower than usual, and cleaner. And also obviously not a trash chute once you’d seen it from the inside. Looking around, you realized you were in an alley that ran along the right side of the restaurant. You could hear the water and the bugs that always lingered there coming from behind you. There was a slope to the ground beneath your feet that rose up to meet the road you met Alastor on before.

“Scatter, you idiot!”

“How do we find the men later?”

“They find us, at home or back here next week.”

You ran toward the back side of the building, where the hill sloped down. The bar is going to flood with the first hurricane, you thought as you felt the slick pavement beneath your shoes. The river was so close.

Finding you wasn’t really going to work unless you met at the car. You just pressed your back flush to the wall of the neighboring building and waited. You couldn’t stand the idea of just hoping he made it out. Sure enough, some men flew past and you managed to snag the arm of yours. It was easy to see which one was Alastor in the rush, his height paired with his complexion made him stand out.

He turned back with his free arm cocked but realized it was you. “I almost decked you!” A kiss instead of a fist, his smile not leaving even through the peck. “Come on, to the river.”

Another tugging of the arm as you were taken to the edge of the hill and began sliding down as you tried to get down it. Your heel was flatter than you would normally wear and slid down the hill easily instead of getting caught in the ground.

“Why?!”

“No ligh-,” the word ended in a small yelp as the slick grass and fallen leaves won out, his shoe losing its grip and him slipping down the hillside on his ass. You were shortly behind. The moisture immediately soaked through and you felt your ass and thighs become cool with the wetness.

With an oof you came to a stop against his back. “Shhh,” he pulled you down by the ankles until you were neatly pressed into his side and your dress lifted a little too high up your thighs. 

Your fingers pulled up the end of his coat, showing him a tear. A rock must have snagged it as he slid down the bank, you whispered. You presented it like you’d found a dead bird on the porch.

His hand’s weight came to settle on yours and pushed both them and the offending rip back down. He didn’t care. Evident in the sincere and calm smile he gave you. A giddiness in his eyes the only tell that his heart was pounding. Alastor let his back rest against the sharp slope of the hill to escape the full reach of the warm street lamp’s glow and you followed. 

In that silence between you was something else you didn’t recognize until it fully materialized; safety. It’d visited you in fleeting moments through life, but in that moment it’d come to settle like a rock. Unlike the one who tore his precious coat, any sharpness was hand chiseled by Alastor, surely.

Alastor flourished in the tension before a kiss. An anticipation mirrored in the moments before the killing blow. The will he or won’t he in the other person's eyes. Daisies had fields and water lillies had still waters and Alastor had prescience. You often robbed him of his arena with your unpredictable nature, but that was, as people said, the zest of life. 

Except right now. Now you let him have his slow lean towards you. 

As he got closer the question moved from will he to where will he? 

Just beside your ear, close enough that his breath made you shiver. Alastor deeply enjoyed the ways he could make people’s bodies respond to him. 

But then a light shone down onto the crowns of your heads and interrupted the fun. Alastor squinting to try and see past it. 

“You again? Geez…you’re becoming a nuisance. Get a room, sir.” The cop shouted down the incline. “And have a little more self respect, miss.”

You moved to sit up and shout back at the man about respect but Alastor’s hand came to set on your arm.

“Thank you officer!” He nodded away the cop’s look of disapproval and waited for him to go back to looking for the box’s patrons. 

“Do you think it’s him who sent the raids?” You asked when the cop was out of sight, “My former fella.”

Alastor shook his head no, “Mimzy’s had three bars raided. This was definitely just a consequence of her loose lips.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you made it home and did away with your coats, Alastor poured you both a nightcap. You were leaning against the back patio railing when set down the glasses and pulled you into a hug.

“I should apologize for always magically summoning the police.” He beamed, all charm. “How should I show you? A good cuddle?” His nose knocked softly against yours as he teased another kiss. You could tell by his smile you’d be swept away if you let him continue. 

“No, nope. I’m not letting you distract me any longer.” You pushed him away with both hands and made a beeline inside for the kitchen. He leaned back to watch you through the screen door. 

You stretched up and over the counters, pulling out a small vase he forgot he had, and grabbed the paper bag from beneath the table. He could only see your back as you fiddled with it on the table before marching to the sitting room. Taking a few steps forward, he could see you through the window now as you unsleeved a record and inspected both sides before setting it down and lifting the arm to place the needle.

A trumpet played and buzzed through the speaker. As a song he didn’t know began to play he turned back to see you at the screen door with your little vase of flowers. 

Alastor was taken aback. A new sight. A new thing to dream about. You in the glow of the dim kitchen light, it bouncing off the back of your silhouette as you looked at him like a shark was in your tub; unnecessarily scared.

Music drifted through the open window to his right. Extending his arm, he beckoned you to him. 

Lead feet made you nearly trip with your first step. 

Your hands were trembling as they gripped the glass and brought the flowers up. 

“What's all this?” a little nervous laugh as he looked down at the bouquet you fussed over at the shop just some hours before. How many hours exactly was lost to the bootleg hooch. “Red Tulips. Wild roses. Daisies.” you pointed them out just how the shop attendant had for you, “And cornflower.”

Alaster smiled over them and then back to you. 

“For you.” You lifted them just a tad higher.

“Oh!” He cleared his throat, wiping his hands on his pants before gingerly taking them from you. “That happy I didn’t kill him?” Alastor joked, knowing you had to have gotten them before you learned of the newest developments.

Your throat was closing. Well, it felt like it was. 

Looking up, there he was. As brilliant as in the sun, dim light casting sharp shadows across his face as he brought the bouquet up to his nose. The light passed over his glasses as he did so, and when his eyes flitted back up they looked over the rims and down to you. Your heart skipped a beat as a new rhythm took it by surprise. 

“And the– I heard it. This song. And I thought you'd like it. So.” You fidgeted, tapping the back of one shoe with the toebox of the other, “I got it for you. As a gift. It’s pretty new, by Ozzie Nelson, whoever that is.” He laughed at your flippant description. 

His head turned slightly to the sound before setting the flowers on the porch banister. The speaker popped a little with the tune. 

Stars shining bright above you. 

He put his hands out to ask you to dance, and you eagerly took up the offer. It bought you a little time. While you danced, you could think. 

Nightbreezes seem to whisper I love you.

Fuck. 

Say nighty night and kiss me.

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me.

While I'm alone and as blue as can be.

Alastor wasn’t listening as intently as you were. His palms could feel you beneath your dress, feel the shape of your hips as you lazily swayed together to the song. 

When had he last received a gift, he wondered as you chewed on your bottom lip. He couldn’t remember. His swaying slowed as he reached back into his memories. No, he really couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him a present. Had anyone ever given him flowers?

No. 

He was brought back to the moment when you leaned forward, pressing your cheek against his collar bone. He shook away the thought and resumed the slow move from left to right. Your feet did little steps in the same direction. It was dancing enough for you both. The porch wasn’t exactly conducive to a lively foxtrot and your tipsy body wasn’t up for the turns. 

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear. Still craving your kiss. 

I'm longing to linger til dawn, dear.

What time was it, you wondered. Was it almost time for the sun to rise? No, it couldn’t be. Would it be more romantic to wait for that? That was what people liked in these moments, special light.

You were overthinking it, looking for an excuse to delay it. 

Just saying this

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you. 

“And what's the occasion? I’m the one who owes you flowers.” 

His chest rumbled and you inhaled the scent of him. What if you said it and you never got to get this close again?

What was the better world to live in…The one where he was yours, or the one where he knew he was loved?

Dream a little dream of me. 

It was too much to bear. The feeling was crowding your chest and stealing your air. Obviously the better world was the latter, and now you were holding up its descent. You couldn’t keep your mouth shut any longer or the words themselves would slice through your throat. The song ended and the speakers popped as the record finished its rotation. 

Like a wolf showing its neck you filled the silence with vulnerability, “You know I love you, right?” You couldn’t muster the courage to look at him. The entire world was spinning but the swaying stopped.  “It bears repeating, so, listen up. I’ll always meet you where you are. Don’t go feeling around in the dark for me. I’ll find you, I’ll wait around the nearest corner or in the car or wherever. Because I love you. Terribly. Against my will.” You swallowed hard but your mouth was dry, “Now and forever.”  What a terribly uncomfortable thing to say, what a horridly sensitive wound to inflict on yourself. A fresh expanse of exposed nerves and muscles. 

A practiced author would call it a whirlwind romance, but that didn’t capture the violence that tangled you two together. A maelstrom love.

He didn’t say it back. He didn’t say anything at all. His eyes were heavy as he brought your knuckles to his mouth and kissed each one. That didn’t sting or alarm you. You hadn’t said it to hear it back. This wasn’t a token slid to him for anything in return this time.  You said it to make sure he knew. If anything, you hadn’t really expected the sentiment to be returned. Because it hadn’t ever been about you, love apparently never was. 

Alastor was too scared to speak, too overwhelmed to reply. You’d said it first, atleast, you’d said it thinking you had. A weakness came over his muscles and for a flash he thought he'd go weak in the knees. But what you said stirred a fire in his chest and he didn’t know what to do with it. Too many words crowded in his guts and choked at the stop gap that was his own throat. Words were, as they rarely were for him, useless. So his hands slipped down your body, then back up, and he found your cheeks despite his eyes still hiding in the shadow of his lashes. He leaned down to meet your lips and pressed into them. Chaste, as if neither of you had ever kissed anyone before. He hoped at that moment he’d never have to kiss anyone again. 

No, he decided at that moment he never would. A relief. A heavy load he could set down. You felt the little self assured smile against your mouth. 

He needed to move, fresh electrical impulses twitching down his spine and igniting that little wool string of fear.  So he took a few steps backward, bringing you with him, and let his hands cage you into more desperate kisses as his back pressed into the wall. The passion was mounting with every return, his tongue willing your mouth open so he could retreat into the honesty of your body. Pulling away, you took his face in your hands too. 

“Do you want to keep going?” You asked, feeling his hips move to grind up into you. He nodded, his smile small and tight. His lips were barely visible. “You know you don’t have to, right? You don’t owe me anything. My love isn’t….there are no strings attached.” He nodded again. His eyes were shining, the light of the kitchen giving them a comforting and golden band. Were they wet or just bright? “Do you want to …talk?” 

His smile widened, and he shook his head no. 

“Then we won’t talk.”

The expression on his face was enough for you. His eyes soft and half lidded, pupils blown. You never knew what he saw when he looked at you like that, but you knew you wanted to be whoever it was. The corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly with his smile, which was pure and sweet. He was happy, and that was all you’d wanted. All of it in your hands. No fireworks, barely a moon above you both.  

You’d really not wanted to mingle the words with the actions. But Alastor’s assurance reminded you that you weren’t alone in the situation. Maybe for him they were already entangled together. Maybe he wanted them to be. You stopped acting as a monolith long ago, whether you had felt comfortable admitting that until that moment or not.

He dropped slowly down to his knees, you following with your mouth on his. With a crawl, he leaned forward and you leaned back until you were lying down. 

It wasn’t quite as deep as that for him, instead acting on instinct with the magnets in his fingertips unable to break the pull and separate from your skin any longer. He was going to find out now, for the first time, if he could feel love. Could he translate it from his mouth through your skin, words unspoken still? The gasp you made when he licked up your neck made him confident he was saying something. He didn’t want to get off in that moment, nothing about you was screaming sex, but there was no earthly method he could express the way your confession made him feel. He needed you close. He needed you closer than anyone had ever been, and your words had already pulled him skin deep. Perhaps now, in this moment, if he had sex with you he’d find an unseen depth of comfort in your embrace than he’d felt before. A new level of connection for him to feel held by. 

People had said they loved him before, but it was just words. It was the next thing to say before I do and it's a boy! They had loved well pressed clothes and a shiny smile, quick fingers over keys and a pretty voice. Such love was nothing short of tissue paper wrapped around a gift he didn't want; a promise of a boring and hidden life. 

He wondered why you always told him to not seek you out. He had no plans on leaving, and if he ever lost you in the crowd like he had tonight, he’d still wander around for you. It was a silly request. You might as well ask him to not kiss your forehead before sitting on the sofa beside you or to not smile when you smiled. 

So clever but so naive. 

Please.

His nose nuzzled behind your ear, a voiceless whisper. His hands were scratching down your thighs and over your stockings, surely snagging the delicate weave. 

Closer.

Hastily you rolled them down and did the same with your panties, Alastor seemingly too focused on gathering as much of your body into his arms as he could physically manage. You gasped when two firm hands slipped under you and pulled your ass off the porch to press up into his core. 

Alastor drew his knees forward to kneel, dragging you up into his lap by the hips. Back bending, you looked up wordlessly as he unbuttoned his shirt. 

“It’s cold.” You whispered, no hint of wanting him to stop but genuinely concerned for his comfort.

I’ll make it warm reverbrated across time, a little changed but the promise still intact that Alastor would heat up the cold with embraces, sexual and otherwise.

“Oh!” You squeaked, realizing this was your cue to start undressing too. You ignored the burning in your thighs at the position and reached for your own buttons, a long line down the back meant for women with husbands as it was impossible to do up alone.

As he leaned over you and hot palms slid up your arched back, his face came close to yours. No scared deer in the headlights. He looked much more self assured than something built to flee.

Ah.

Right.

An image of clashing antlers and the ringing crack they produced blocked out your second squeak as you were pulled up to be chest to chest. Arms snaking around his neck you held on tightly as he worked on the buttons for you.

His chin rested on the taut muscle that connected neck and shoulder, breaths even and hot slipping down between the skin of your back and dress as the clothing loosened under his grip. 

A flutter of nerves filled you both. The space between romance and sex was always a no man’s land for you two. You preferred to rush through to the act, and Alastor struggled with transitioning loving touches to wanton ones.

But you didn’t feel that awkward gap now. Alastor seemed very confident in his movements, marching across that space to take you from love to lover. 

He couldn’t see your smile as he undid the dress. This was a good answer, you thought. This didn’t feel like him pushing to give you what he expected, like he had always done with the others. It felt, very honestly, like someone wanting to do the dreaded thing you always avoided; make love. You couldn’t say you had ever thought what made fucking and love making different, you just knew you hadn’t cared for mixing sex with emotion. But this was all emotion now. An act of surrender for you, an act of commitment from him. A deep slow breath to steady yourself. You’d give him whatever he wanted and needed. And if that was more than you’d managed before, you’d find a way to be more than you had been. You could still be yourself. Just…a little extra. For him. When he pleaded so sincerely.

You rose on your knees to lift your center from his lap, allowing him the space to undo his belt and free himself from his pants. His hands moved under the curtain of your dress and you kept your eyes on the wall behind him. Looking him in the eyes would happen, you knew that, but you weren’t ready to get stuck in his stare just yet. 

Clinging on to his shoulders you worked together to lower yourself back down, a slow seating down onto his member. You swallowed a gasp and let your body weight fully settle. An ache radiated from deep within you as he bottomed out and then pressed further with your relaxed form giving way. His hands slipped up your back and held onto your shoulders, face pressed into your neck and tickling you with every breath. 

Your body pressed tightly against his, you found the space to lift up and drop. Reluctantly, Alastor loosened his grip to allow you more freedom of movement. Just enough you could get more height and not an inch more.

The burn in your thighs and the sting of your knees digging into the old wood patio quickly fought for your focus. But then your riding produced rewards, Alastor’s breath coming out ragged and weak. His own little gasps each time you took him back in fully escaped to your pleasure. You were warm and clinging, inside and out, and Alastor found the base of his skull beginning to feel fuzzy. All that lightning was now in his lap and leaving his mind to go slack as if in a tepid bath. He liked this part, where things could go quiet internally except for the most basic of senses: touch. You were all around him, and that was satisfying him so completely he worried he’d run out of things to seek out in life. A small worry that came and went as quickly as your hips began to move. Fast and even.

He could say with confidence you hugged him in a loving embrace and it let his body relax into the moment. The gasps and dryness of his lips went unnoticed by him. But not you, if you closed your eyes all you could hear was his breathing. Instinctively your arms tightened until you were holding his head to you. Sex with Alastor never felt like being fucked. Like being used as some sleeve for a man. You always felt like you were receiving much more from him, never like you were giving. Except now, with how his lips left lazy open mouth kisses on your collar bone, it felt like you were providing him with something.

Alastor pulled away and you slowed before stopping in response. The part you knew would come, because you knew Alastor. Both hands took your face for a proper kiss. His lips stuck a little to yours, but he licked them and tried again. Such a slow kiss for the occasion, passion could be languid when you had the time for it. And you had nothing but time now. That was what you promised him when you confessed, to be there through time now and ever.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours. This was intimacy, this was what existed between you both as something was communicated from his eyes to yours. The instinct to look away was clawing at you but you fought it. His eyes were so beautiful, even in the dark. That was how you first saw them, in the dark of an alleyway. 

Without warning he broke the longing look and kissed you again.

Forever, you’d said. And Alastor held those words as tightly as he held you now. Forever was all that he needed. 

His tongue roamed around your mouth hungrily. 

Closer.

Your own hands held tightly to his head as he leaned forward. Gently, his kiss slowing as he focused on setting you down on the porch, you were returned to your back. It took strength to do it so smoothly, that hidden muscle that betrayed his slender frame. 

Letting him take the lead was easy, in that moment every move  dripped with an arousing confidence. The sweet gasps melted into tiny grunts that made you clench around him, the kiss breaking with his thrusts.

His belt was cold, hitting against the top of your ass with every slap of his hips. You used the heel of your shoe to try and push his pants down further but didn’t get far. You whispered a ‘fuck it’ and let your legs hug onto him.

A rain of ‘please’ fell from your mouth, begging him to maintain that strong even pace but also praying he’d finish inside this time. You wanted that liquid heat pooling in your guts. 

Alastor wanted to kiss you more, but he knew better than to interrupt his rhythm. He wanted to feel you spasming around his cock, feel your body tighten and go stock still under him. 

Maybe he imagined it, maybe it was your slight  embarrassed blushing, but you did feel different. He could have sworn you felt warm, softer. He felt he was getting lost in your touch like someone losing their way in the safety of a well maintained park. No danger, but no idea where he was or what he was really doing there. But it was lovely. That midsummer day glow and warmth you could only enjoy in the shade of tall trees.

There he was again, mind wandering with flashes of beautiful places and sensations as his muscles began to tire.

You bit your lip and tensed your core to help along the rising pressure. Fingers raked down his scalp and neck as you crossed the peak and came on his slowing cock.

A second was given to you to come down before he began his own finish. 

It didn’t take long for his hips to go weak and for him to lose his rhythm. Apart from you, the sensation of a wet and writhing organ against his slit was vaguely alien and gross. But your twitching insides was a trophy he was always eager to earn. He had to lean back which meant your chest making contact with the cold air that filled the void. His handkerchief was quickly pulled from his chest pocket and brought to his cock as he managed to hold off cumming until he was safely free of you.  It worked poorly, semen leaking through the threads and sticking to his hand. He hissed but wiped his hand clean the best he could on the handkerchief’s edges.

Alastor leaned over and kissed your cheek, and then your nose, and then because he felt the compulsion, your already kiss swollen lips. When he moved his head to carry on down your collar bone you unclenched your eyes.  You could see the flowers above your head on the banister. 

You remembered reading The Language of Flowers poster to the florist as you chose your bouquet. When she pointed out each one to you, you repeated the meanings in your head. 

“Red tulips,”

 I declare my love. 

“Wild Roses,”

I love you truly. 

“Daisies,” 

Pain and Pleasure. 

“And, lastly,” the shopkeeper sounded sentimental as she gestured to the blue petals, “Cornflower.”

Be gentle with me.

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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[scarletttries]

What The Straw Hats Are Like in A Relationship... (One Piece Request)

Pairings: Luffy x Reader, Zoro x Reader, Sanji x Reader, Nami x Reader, Usopp x Reader (All Fluff)

Monkey D Luffy

- Luffy is the epitome of someone who views being in a relationship as just having the Ultimate Best Friend. He loves to collect people who can depend on him, and who he can support and inspire and encourage to be their best and boldest self, and having you as a partner only motivates him to reach his full loving potential.

- Luffy is incapable of limiting the intense amount of physical affection he showers down upon you, regardless of the time, the place, or the present company. He feels practically adrift without a gangly arm draped over your shoulder, or his head resting in your lap. He's 100% guilty of not even realising someone else is in the room when he hasn't seen you in hours, barging around the ship, desperate to fulfil his most basic need to be near you. He'll launch himself at you, wrapping you up in his arms and lifting you into the air for a kiss before you can even protest and point out Nami and Zoro are right behind him. Cue gagging noises that do nothing to quash his frantic kisses.

- Luffy doesn't have much of a sleep pattern at the best of times, but since you came into his life he has completely lost the ability to fall asleep without you. At night his stretching limbs seem to wind completely around you, pulling you closer and making sure there's absolutely no chance of being seperated in the night. If you do need to get up without him for any reason you'll hear the most sorrowful whimpering as you pry his hands off you, breaking your heart until you inevitably see him again, his koala-like nature vigorously renewed by the brief break from your company.

- Without fail, no matter how long the two of you are together, Luffy will never stop marvelling at how happy he is to be with you. He'll smile from ear to ear every single time he sees you, galloping over without a moment's hesitation to scoop you up into a hug. He'll softly sigh out a 'wow' every time the two of you kiss. Whether it's the first kiss or the thousandth, he can hardly believe just how soft and loving your lips feel against his and the flush of warmth it sends through his entire body. He'll giggle basically every time you say his name, like it just sounds so much better coming from you, like you're the only person that was ever supposed to truly see him. Luffy will never take that, or you, for granted.

- Luffy is a constant source of sunlight in the dark and any troubling times you might face. He can never give you enough praise and encouragement, and his smile and support makes you realise just how much you're capable of, especially when you've got the right people around you. But perhaps what's even more special is being the person Luffy turns to when his own brightness is wavering, when he questions himself and his vision. When his smile falters you know it's time for you to be the one to wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his weight collapse against you as suddenly the pressure on him doesn't seem so stifling, and maybe with you by his side he can finally breathe again. His low moments usually pass quickly, but watching his battery recharge as he curls up in your lap is when you really see how much your love means to him.

Zoro

- Love and warmth are all new to Zoro when he finally embraces his feelings for you and admits he can't go on without you by his side indefinitely. He's spent so long perfecting his stoic demeanour, living a life of solitude and self-sufficiency until you and Luffy came along, that he's not sure exactly what he's supposed to do now that he can finally call you his.

- As much as Zoro isn't a fan of publicly displaying his affections, he's never far from your side. Wherever you go, he goes, usually clinging to your hand or with an arm around your waist, his emotionless expression hiding the depth of adoration behind each touch. He wants to look nonchalant, like he never hasn't been your boyfriend, like there's nothing that could come between the two of you, two figures locked in a permanent connection, physically and emotionally. He hopes if that's the message he portrays to the outside world, nothing will dare to challenge him for your attention, or have the nerve to try and separate the two of you, Zoro slowly starting to feel like he's more himself around you than he's ever been in his years alone.

- Behind closed doors he's far more expressive, although rarely through his words. Not one for big beaming smiles, Zoro tends to show his love through the unflinching intensity with which he gazes at you, eyes constantly mapping out each of your features as he draws ever closer. His grip is firm on your waist as his broad chest meets yours, long, slow kisses Zoro's favourite way to try and express the deep adoration that devours him. It's overwhelmingly intense how all-consuming it feels when his focus is solely on you, every fibre of his being pouring out unspoken truths. Every so often a simple 'i love you' or 'i need you' will be whispered through the darkness as his fingertips dig into whatever soft flesh is in his reach.

- As well as his undeniable intensity, you also bring out a certain levity in Zoro you might not have seen before. Sometimes you'll catch him furtively smiling your way, or chuckling at a comment you made just loud enough for him to hear, a weight lifted off his shoulders just from being loved by you. He slowly starts to unburden himself around you, opening up a little more about his past, worrying less about looking a little bit silly when he tries something new, thinking less about how others perceive him, and more about how he wants you to see him. He wants to be his most authentic self, the real Zoro rather than the blank mask he's plastered on his face for far too long. Before you, he feared no one could love the man behind that facade, now he wants nothing more than to be loved for the man he truly is.

- Despite being a man of few words, you never have to worry about where you stand with Zoro, and not just because he is so frequently looming beside you, statuesque in his ability to perpetually be by your side. Whilst his sarcastic sense of humour never grows old, when you ask him how he feels or anything about the bond between the two of you, Zoro will answer honestly. He might not spend hours confessing his every waking thought and feeling, but if you worry your feelings are outpacing his, he'll easily admit that he thinks of little but his future with you, that his every dream is about your smile, that he no longer wants to die by sword when instead he could grow old by your side. Zoro falls hard, and he's never fallen like he has for you, so you never have to worry about what's going on behind his expressionless face, because it's always thoughts of you.

Sanji

- Sanji truly thought this day may never come. It's one thing falling madly in love, heck before you Sanji thought he'd been in love a dozen times before, but it's entirely different loving someone so wholly and so deeply and then finding out they actually like you back. You wanted him. He could scarcely believe it the day you confessed, and he can scarcely believe it every day since, no matter how obvious your feelings are to every other member of the crew. Although any feelings of yours are so overshadowed by the enormity of Sanji's love for you that it's hard for them to pick up on anything else.

- Sanji has spent a lot of time fantasising about what it would be like to finally be someone's boyfriend, so much so that when he finally takes up the role as your partner he feels like his heart might just burst with excitement. He's not sure he can remember the last time he wasn't smiling, his cheeks threatening to ache as he goes about his day, floating almost weightlessly as if carried by thoughts of you wherever he goes. He wakes up with his heart hammering in his chest as your presence floods his senses before his eyes even open, tucking his face into your shoulder so he can breathe you in and taste your skin on his lips before he has to start the day. Some mornings he bursts out of bed to hurriedly make your breakfast, but other days he feels so enamoured by you that all he can bring himself to do is stare longingly at you as his fingertips trace along your skin until finally your eyes blink open. He half expects you to frown at the sight of him, or scorn him for bothering you, feeling entirely undeserving of your love. But instead you show him that soft smile that has him giggling at nothing, pulling him back on top of you with absolutely no resistance as he hungrily captures your lips over and over again.

- Sometimes Sanji can hardly believe your kindness towards him, a fresh flood of adoration spilling out of him at almost every sweet little thing you do. Every time you compliment his cooking he wants to drop to his knees and cry, like his every life ambition has been met because his dish made you smile and hum. When you thank him for having your back in a fight, or for a thoughtful and elaborate compliment he spills out with wide, wonderstuck eyes, it truly takes his breath away, the sweet feeling of being appreciated more than he had ever dared to hope for. Call him 'your love' and the chef will throw his arms around you, squeezing you desperately as his eyes start to well up, choking out how much he loves you in frantic gasps. He takes immense pleasure in returning the pet name, proudly calling you 'my love', 'my sweet', 'my beauty', 'my everything', 'my whole heart', really anything to celebrate his love and to label you his.

- Usually laser focused in the kitchen, you might be the only thing that can distract him from his arts. That doesn't stop his constantly 'suggesting' that you drop by the kitchen company, never wanting to outright ask you for anything as you already give him so much, but his desperately pleading eyes do a good enough job of begging that you often find yourself perched on the kitchen counter next to him, listening to him narrate his moves to you and occasionally swing by for a kiss. But sometimes one kiss isn't enough, and the minute he steps between your knees he's caught in your gravitational pull. The first quick peck reminds him just how sweet you are, just how good it feels to have his affections reciprocated, so he needs more. He needs to slide his tongue between your lips as his hips press closer, hands finding the outside of your thighs to pull you snug against him. When your fingers comb through the hair at the nape of his neck his eyes flutter shut and he has to hold back from moaning into your mouth, touch starved and smitten and not sure how he ever existed in the same room as you without confessing his every obsessed thought.

- Sanji is really not sure what he ever did to deserve you, like at any moment you might pull away and ridicule him for spending so much time bothering you, but as time passes and the love the two of you share only deepens he starts to finally believe that not only can he do everything in his power to make you happy, but that he might actually be the man to deserve to make you happy.

Nami

- The path to Nami's heart would be slow and winding, months of adventure and trust and support passing before she could truly accept that she couldn't live a life that didn't include you anymore. By the time you two are officially an item, there's little about each other you haven't already shared, your love built on a solid foundation of honesty and deeply relying on each other in a way Nami never thought she'd be able to.

- For all the long nights of deep discussions it took to finally be Nami's other half, once you two are finally together your relationship is surprisingly light, effortless and easy. The darkness of well-built walls has been torn down to give way to a sweet dawn of hope for Nami. With you she gets to feel safe again. Safe to pour out her heart. Safe to sleep with both eyes shut as she feels your slow, deep breath on her cheek where she's rolled onto your pillow to never be too far away. Safe to smile and laugh and trust and explore. Truly with you Nami can feel safe to just be happy again.

- The two of you are constantly having fun. You meander through shore line stalls looking for new fabrics Nami can turn into almost matching outfits for the two. You play games and make bets on everything from the weather to how many times Zoro will scowl at Sanji. You two will play fight when you're supposed to be training, rolling around on the mats together until you're both in fits of laughter and all your limbs are so entwined neither of you can, or wants to, move. You enjoy easy nights passed in bars, watching the rest of the crew try and score free drinks when Nami does it effortlessly. You read books, and have sleepovers in the crows nest, and make little trinkets for the cabin you share. You get to have the fun and family and home that Nami never did, slowly mending every childhood scar and deeply dug wound that a troubling life had left imprinted on Nami, until joy becomes her default over sadness.

- After years chained to a table and forced to make maps, Nami takes great comfort in resting her legs in your lap while she draws, asking your opinion on her maps despite your limited understanding of how on earth she constructs them. The things that she had slowly grown to despite start filling her with joy again when you get to do them together. Nami has spent so much time just trying to make it to her goal of freeing her village, never thinking about her own happiness or the future beyond that. But now with you, her future seems wide open, stretching out in front of her like a sunrise highlighted horizon, full of warmth and light and wonderful possibility.

Usopp

- You came into Usopp's life as such an unexpected wonder that he almost struggles to come to terms with his newfound role of boyfriend. Half of his life has been lived in his imagination, dressing up his every memory and adventure until it feels worthy of sharing and declaring to those around him, but now he has you and he can't believe that the best thing that's ever happened to him is actually his reality.

- It feels almost effortless for Usopp to fall in love with you, but being in a relationship takes him a little bit longer to settle into. He finds himself worrying about whether he's told some daring tale that he now has to live up to, like he should be jumping in front of you at every danger and filling every silence with further proof of his bravery. It would take your quiet acceptance of the everyday calm of life aboard the Merry with him to realise that your company isn't dependent on anything but him being himself.

- You'd slowly bring a more honest Usopp out of his shell, realising that he is enough exactly as he is, without embellishment or exaggeration. At the same time the crew would notice he becomes bolder and braver when the situation calls for it, a new source of strength found in his deep love for you. No matter how many times you tell him that he's already your brave hero, in his heart he just wants to keep getting better so he can keep impressing you, and always know that he can keep you safe.

- That doesn't mean he is any less ridiculous of a person in your relationship though. The man is constantly looking for a reason to dance with you, or carry you, or anything that means he gets to hold you close and maybe show off a little, wanting nothing more than to feel your heartbeat against skin as his muscular arms cage you in.

- He also becomes more open about the parts of his past he hasn't shared before; his parents, his obsession with the impending threat of pirates, and the journey that brought him to be a pirate himself. It feels so easy to share with you, letting his words spill out as his head rests in your lap, deep brown eyes blinking up at you as if you were a shooting star in the sky that he's sure could make his wishes come true.

- Usopp is a classic gentleman in some of the ways he shows that he's there for you; opening doors, saving you a seat that he pulls out for you, even standing up when you enter the room. He wants to show you that he's serious about putting in the effort, and the insecure part of him can't help but want to show everyone that he's yours and that he's doing everything he can to try and be worthy of that title.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the kind responses to my One Piece headcanons 🥰 please keep sending in requests for these characters, and while i've mostly been focused on fluff so far, let me know if you'd be interested in some similar headcanons for these characters but NSFW.

[muzansfangs]

nsfw alphabet with byakuya?? 😭

Nsfw alphabet – Byakuya Kuchiki (letters d, e, f, k, l).

Starring: Byakuya Kuchiki x f!reader;

Format: headcanons;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal sex, language, mirror sex, creampies, hair pulling, dom!byakuya, sub!reader, praise kink, possessive tendencies, implied size kink, married couple, oral sex (f!receiving);

Plot: Some nsfw head canons about Byakuya Kuchiki based on some letters of the alphabet.

Author note: Hello there! As I have already had the occasion to tell you in another ‘alphabet request’, I am not a huge fan of this format. In the future, I may decide to write the missing letters, but as for now enjoy the ones I have picked! I am sorry if this is not your cup of tea, but alphabets sometimes get repetitive and it is not exactly a turn on for me to write.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs).

Byakuya enjoys spurting his seed into you from behind, watching the way the creamy substance leaks out of your core and connects to the sheets. It is primal and extremely possessive, he admits it, however it leaves him the masculine satisfaction of knowing the cum dribbling out of you belongs to him. This does not mean he is into objectification. On the contrary, he deems it as a gesture to showcase his dedication to satisfy you like a dutiful husband should.

If he does not finish into you, he likes to do it over the small of your back and watch the way the seed runs down the swell of you ass before dripping in between your thighs and the futon.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Byakuya is extremely reserved, but everyone knows he has been married. He knows the feminine needs of a woman and has had his chance to practice the best ways to quench that thirst. Making love becomes a duty, but also a unique experience. Albeit he may give off the vibes of cold, detached man, he truly likes showing you his lustful side.

Byakuya has never left you dissatisfied, nor has he ever failed in surprising you by introducing small new practices in special occasions. Nothing is dull, or static. The Captain is not the type to brag about his skills with other men, but he is surely proud to know he has made you whimper out for hours before falling asleep last night.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying).

Byakuya likes to experiences new way to make love to you. Still, if he was forced to pick only two positions to replicate for the rest of his life, he would surely go with missionary and lotus position.

The urge to embrace you, to lock your eyes in a rather intense eye-contact is the main reason behind his choices: Byakuya wants, or better he needs, to instill the concept that you are loved in your mind. The Captain loves watching you cry out his name over his lips, while his mouth chases yours. It does not matter if he is fucking you by being on top, or if you have your legs crossed behind his back in a sitting position whilst his hips snap upwards in deep and vigorous thrusts: he yearns to see you scrunch your face up, brows furrowed, while your inner walls squeeze him up. This is what matters to him.

Also, he may or may not draw pleasure in watching your mounds bounce before his blue eyes.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Everyone has a kink and Byakuya Kuchiki is no one to deny he does not have some himself.

On the top of them, this man will let you know he likes mirror sex. As already mentioned, he likes directing his full attention on studying your face whilst fucking you. Yet, he does not disdain to peek at your reflections in the mirror to assess the way your whole body his affected by his actions, or how much larger than you he is.

Secondly, the head of the Kuchiki clan has a thing for hair pulling. A wild card is that he does not pull yours, unless you explicitly tell him to tug on them. He loves the way his scalp stings instead, when you tug on his luscious hair, while he goes down on you. Do it and he might spill his own cum all over himself.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Strictly, in the privacy of his manor. Byakuya would never let anyone interrupt your moments of tender intimacy. If he could, he would even dismiss his servants from the residence but, unfortunately, he can’t. All he wants is for you to enjoy the moment and not worry about any possible set of prying eyes suddenly landing on your forms. In your shared bedroom, bare, only for him to lavish, you can forget about the rest of the world and concentrate solely on him and the way he unravels you effortlessly.

Another reason causing him to restrain himself from indulging in sex anywhere besides the Kuchiki Estate is his position as the head of the noble clan. It would be unbecoming of him to stain his ancestors’ reputation by acting like a stupid lout. Pride and manners above carnal urges. This is a mantra he repeats to himself often, since he met you.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Here we are with another Kuchiki work. I am enjoying exploring this character a little more… Unfortunately, though, I could only dedicate little time to him. Let’s hope more inspiration strikes me so that I can serve you some more Byakuya in the near future. Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Luce!

[oh-great-authoress]

And listen, Aemond’s sparring match with Criston was very sexy. I do not make the rules. Man had a glow up like no other.

[magnagaruzenmon]

Blackberries and Vanilla

Part 2 to the collaboration with the nameless writer. If you see his work (you'll know it when you see it) please support him he's been very kind to us despite his upstart “attack” at us saying we don't know how to right Sohyun

Part I here

Doflamingo floated weightlessly in the void, surrounded by an endless expanse of stars shimmering against a backdrop of oppressive heat. The heat wasn’t external—it burned from within, coursing through him like molten fire. His mind was foggy, caught between dreams and reality, but one question burned through the haze like a roaring flame:

“What do you fight for?”

The voice was deep, resonant, and impossible to ignore. It echoed within him, reverberating against the raw edges of his consciousness. Doflamingo furrowed his brow, instinctively clenching his fists. Memories flickered to life like embers igniting in the dark: the moments of anger, the countless times people had tried to take what was his, the fights he had endured, not out of choice but necessity. Each image fanned the flames of a deep, abyssal well of ferocity—a ferocity he had always carried with him, buried just beneath the surface.

It was comforting, in a way, like the warmth of an old, familiar fire. He had been an outcast for so long, an intruder in a world that seemed bent on rejecting him. So when something—anything—fell into his grasp, whether it was success, security, or someone he cared about, his instinct was immediate and primal: Protect it. Fight for it. Guard it with everything you are. Even if it costs you everything.

As the flames surged brighter within him, the voice spoke again, each word like a drop of molten metal in his chest:

“A dragon draws strength from their hoard. So I ask you again, what is your hoard?”

The question lingered in the air, pressing into him. Doflamingo tried to dismiss it, tried to claim that he was above such things—that he didn’t need anyone or anything to define him. But the voice was not so easily swayed. It knew him too well because it was him, and it would not let him lie.

The stars around him began to pulse with a fiery glow, and scenes from his life played out before him, each one more vivid than the last. They weren’t material things—no mountains of gold or treasures locked away in vaults. Instead, they were moments of connection. Memories of the friendships he had forged, the bonds he had nurtured despite his rough exterior. Each face, each laugh, each fleeting moment of closeness lit up the darkness like stars being born.

He saw Sohyun, her sharp wit and radiant presence anchoring him in ways he hadn’t fully understood before. He saw the trust in the eyes of her friends, people who had once looked at him with suspicion but now saw him as family. He saw the countless times he had fought, not for wealth or glory, but to protect those fleeting, precious connections—to ensure that he was never alone again.

The flames inside him roared to life as the voice spoke, its tone shifting, tinged with curiosity and understanding:

“How curious. While many dragons hoard knowledge, power, or riches, you take a different approach. You hoard knowing. You hoard intimacy, not for greed but for fear of isolation. You gather bonds and guard them as fiercely as any treasure. You are gregarious, a trait most uncommon for a dragon, yet you provide a compelling argument for its strength. You fight with a vigor that rivals any dragon’s, yet your greatest strength lies not in what you take but in what you give.”

The heat in his chest swelled to the point of pain, but the pain was transformative. It was not destruction—it was rebirth. The flames burned away the doubts, the insecurities, the self-imposed barriers, until all that was left was warmth. Pure, steady, and radiant.

Doflamingo felt himself drifting among the stars, no longer weighed down by uncertainty or fear. The voice burned brighter, filling the void with its presence.

“A Dragon of Bonds… that is truly an interesting tale.” There was an almost amused warmth in the voice now, as if it relished the novelty of his existence. “Go forth, and take all you can. Protect what is yours. Build your hoard and let no one take it from you. You have the heart of a dragon, and now, you will have its power as well.”

With those final words, the stars around him flared into a brilliant, blinding light. Doflamingo’s body felt heavy again, the weight of the world pulling him back to reality. But the warmth remained, rooted deep within his soul.

Doflamingo groaned softly as his senses stirred, the world around him slowly coming into focus. The first thing he noticed was the scent of vanilla—a soft, soothing aroma that cut through the dull ache in his body. It was intoxicating, grounding, and oddly reassuring. He took a deeper breath, his newfound instincts sharpening the edges of the sensation, and realized the scent wasn’t coming from the air. It was coming from her.

His eyes fluttered open, drawn toward the source. There, sitting over him, was Sohyun. Her expression was a mixture of relief and exhaustion, her eyes shimmering with an emotion he couldn’t quite place but felt all the same. She smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned closer.

“Don’t scare me like that, big guy,” she murmured, her voice low and warm, but trembling ever so slightly.

Doflamingo tried to sit up, wincing as the pain in his muscles flared like tiny embers beneath his skin. He wasn’t sure what hurt more—the fight he had endured or the weight of knowing he’d put her through that fear. He wanted to apologize, to say something that would ease her worry, but the words caught in his throat as her scent wrapped around him like a balm.

It was then that he realized his senses were no longer the same. Everything felt sharper, more vivid. The warmth of Sohyun’s hand on his shoulder was electric, her scent so rich and layered he could almost taste it. And then there was the faint hum in the air—a ripple of energy that emanated from her like a soft heartbeat.

“You smell different,” Doflamingo muttered, his voice hoarse but laced with curiosity.

Sohyun blinked, startled, before laughing softly. “Funny, I was just about to say the same thing about you.”

She leaned in slightly, taking a deliberate breath. His scent was no longer the neutral, faintly clean aroma she’d grown used to. It was deeper now, richer—a heady blend of blackberries and something warm, like smoked cedar. It was intoxicating and grounding all at once, a powerful signal of his new nature.

“You smell… amazing,” she admitted, her cheeks tinting pink as she glanced away.

Doflamingo tilted his head, confused but intrigued. “What’s happening to me?”

Sohyun’s gaze softened, and she brushed her fingers lightly against his cheek. “You’ve changed. I don’t know what kind of therianthrope you’ve become yet, but I can feel it. Your aura—it’s strong. And your instincts…” She trailed off, a small smile tugging at her lips. “They’re sharp enough to notice me, even before your eyes open.”

Doflamingo’s brow furrowed as he processed her words. He didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he felt it—the fire within him, the pulsing presence of something vast and primal that hadn’t been there before. And yet, none of it felt foreign. It felt like a piece of himself he had always been chasing but never quite grasped until now.

Sohyun’s heart fluttered as she watched him. Relief coursed through her veins, but it was accompanied by an uncomfortable pang of guilt. She hated admitting it, but part of her was glad—relieved—that Doflamingo was now a therianthrope. She hated how that part of her felt vindicated, like the world finally made sense because he wasn’t fully human anymore. It was selfish, and she knew it.

Her fingers trembled slightly as she brushed them against his cheek again. You’re still you, she told herself, trying to push the guilt aside. But the truth lingered like a shadow in her mind. She had always worried that their differences—her primal nature, her instincts as an alpha—would one day create a rift between them. And now? Now, those worries had evaporated, leaving her wondering if she had secretly wanted this all along.

Sohyun stood, offering him her hand. “Come on. Let’s go home,” she said gently, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling within her.

Doflamingo hesitated for a moment, staring up at her. The way she looked at him—like he was still him despite everything—made something in his chest tighten. He reached up, letting her pull him to his feet, and as their hands touched, a spark of connection shot through him, more vivid and visceral than anything he had felt before.

He caught her gaze, his lips quirking into a small smile. “I think I’m going to need your help figuring this out.”

Sohyun grinned, a flicker of mischief returning to her eyes, though her heart still felt heavy. “You mean everything? Or just the therianthrope part?”

Doflamingo chuckled, his voice still rough but warmer now. “Both.”

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Sohyun tightened her grip on his hand, her guilt still whispering in the back of her mind. You’re still you, Doffy, she thought again, and she vowed to never let her relief diminish the love she already had for the man he’d always been. For now, she chose to focus on the fact that they were together, and that, despite everything, they would face whatever came next as one.

“You’re still you,” she whispered under her breath, and this time, she meant it. She guided him out of the cafe. As they walked the owner; a werebunny named Nayeon apologized for not being able to help due to only being sigma. Maggy, Kazuha, Dino and Arin were still frozen in their seats processing everything. They all felt elation at Doflamingo’s turn like he now fully was what he was suppose to be but also guilt because they had partially wished he'd be like them. They all eventually left with gift baskets from the baker bunny though, with extras for the “Red Dragon Archfiend”

As they walked out of the café, Sohyun’s hand firmly wrapped around Doflamingo’s, he couldn’t stop noticing. Everything was sharper now—details he never would have caught before flooded his senses. The scent of the baker bunny Nayeon lingered, light and sweet like freshly baked bread, but beneath it was a thread of anxiety she was clearly trying to mask. The creak of the café door as it swung shut behind them resonated in his ears like a chime, and every shift of Sohyun’s body as she guided him was something he felt acutely: the warmth of her skin, the subtle hitch in her breath, and even the way her thumb stroked his hand absently, almost like she was trying to ground him.

The dragon inside him, however, wasn’t so easily calmed. It wasn’t frantic or panicked—it was methodical, constantly observing, cataloging. Her friends were scared of us. They’re relieved, though. The werebunny has a good heart but weak instincts. Is she safe in a place like this? That man at the bar—he’ll regret crossing us if he ever tries again.

Doflamingo’s head throbbed slightly as his consciousness struggled to keep up with the relentless observations of the dragon. It wasn’t just thoughts; it was sensations too. The distant hum of a streetlamp buzzing with electricity a block away, the vibrations of an engine as a car passed, the rustle of a bird’s wings as it flitted into the night—everything pressed on his mind, layering one on top of the other.

And yet, it wasn’t overwhelming. It was exhilarating.

He could feel the streaks of crimson, gold, and teal that now marked his body glowing faintly in the dark, as if they were alive, pulsing with energy. He caught glimpses of them as they walked, reflected in windows and puddles on the street. They were an extension of the dragon’s presence—a sign of its watchful, tireless awareness.

The arrival at their home was quiet but charged, a thick anticipation lingering in the air. Doflamingo stepped through the doorway with measured steps, the weight of his transformation and everything that had happened resting heavily on his shoulders. Sohyun, however, had no intention of letting the moment pass quietly. As a born and raised Werekirin, and an alpha through and through, her curiosity burned bright. She wanted to see the full extent of who and what Doflamingo had become.

The moment the door clicked shut, she turned to him, her eyes glowing with excitement. “Okay, let’s get it out of the way, baby. I need you to shift for me,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Doflamingo froze. His dragon stirred beneath his skin, humming softly in encouragement, but all he could feel was an overwhelming wave of hesitation. The thought of fully embracing this new side of himself in front of Sohyun—his equal, his partner—terrified him. Would this change how she saw him? Could he still meet her expectations?

He took a shaky breath as his senses continued to heighten. Her scent—sweet and grounding, like vanilla and fresh rain—pulled at something primal within him, and his fire surged in response, his dragon reveling in her closeness. Yet his mind remained locked in a storm of doubt.

Sohyun noticed his struggle immediately. She crossed the space between them and placed her hands on either side of his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. Her expression softened, and her voice dropped to a tender murmur. “Babe, babe. Look at me. I’m here with you. It’s okay. You won’t hurt me. You’re too noble for that. The dragon and you are one now—not separate, not enemies, just you.”

Her gaze was , calm yet commanding, staring at him like a steady current, grounding him. She leaned in and kissed him, soft and deliberate. It was a kiss that spoke of reassurance, of love, of her unshakable trust in him.

The storm in Doflamingo’s mind stilled. Slowly, the barrier between him and the dragon dissolved, their essences merging fully for the first time. His body began to shift, a feeling of heat rushing through him. At first, it was sharp, almost painful, but as he let go of his resistance, the discomfort transformed into euphoria. His muscles stretched, his skin hardened and gleamed as crimson scales emerged, each edged with streaks of gold and teal.

His senses sharpened even further, the world around him coming alive in exquisite detail. Every flicker of light, every shift in Sohyun’s scent, every hum of energy in the room—he noticed it all. Power coursed through him, raw and untamed, and for the first time, he didn’t shy away from it.

Sohyun stood back, watching in awe. Her inner kirin purred with excitement, practically stampeding in delight as she took in the sight before her. Doflamingo’s weredragon form was magnificent—regal and commanding, every inch of him exuding strength and dominance. His aura, however, was what truly captivated her. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

It wasn’t just powerful; it was layered, complex, a tapestry of emotions and energy. She could feel his joy, his hesitation, his protective instincts, and, most importantly, his unwavering devotion to her. It was intoxicating, emboldening. Her kirin surged with pride and desire, its hooves stamping impatiently as if to say, This is ours.

And yet, even as her heart swelled with love and excitement, a pang of guilt struck her. It was small but sharp, like a pebble caught in her shoe. She felt the weight of her earlier desires—the secret, selfish wish she’d harbored for Doflamingo to be like her. She had never wanted to admit it, even to herself, but now that he stood before her, fully transformed, the guilt was impossible to ignore.

Her momentary lapse didn’t go unnoticed. Doflamingo’s keen senses picked up the slight hitch in her breath, the flicker of guilt in her aura. His glowing golden eyes narrowed as he shifted back to his human form, his expression etched with concern.

“Soho,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “Is something wrong?”

Sohyun blinked, caught off guard by his question. She forced a smile, but it was weak, betraying her inner turmoil. “No, everything is perfect,” she said, her voice wavering. “Too perfect, actually.” She sighed, looking away. “I feel bad because… you’re everything I’ve ever wanted now, but I can’t help but feel like I didn’t consider your feelings. Like I wanted you to be like me so badly, and I don’t know if it was right to want that.”

Doflamingo tilted his head, his expression softening. “Wait,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You didn’t set up that weredragon attack, did you?”

Sohyun’s eyes widened in shock. “What? No! I’d never put my babygirl in danger like that!”

Doflamingo chuckled, the tension in the room easing. “Good,” he said lightly, though his voice carried an undertone of sincerity. He stepped closer, cupping her cheek. “Listen, Soho. First please don't bring that nickname back. Second, It’s understandable to want an equal. I get it. And honestly? I’m not mad about it. If anything, I’m glad you pushed me—because now I know what I’m capable of. And if this is what it means to stand beside you, then I’m all in.”

Sohyun’s eyes shimmered with emotion as she pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a kiss of relief, of love, of letting go. For the first time, she allowed herself to fully embrace this new chapter of their relationship.

As their kiss deepened, her kirin purred within her, basking in the warmth of their connection. She had an equal now—a partner who matched her strength and fire. It wasn’t what she had imagined, but it was everything she had ever needed. As the kiss deepened the couple shifted as if second nature as their truest natures took center stage. Sohyun smiled as her cerulean werekirin form stood in front of Doffy’s weredragon form. Their scents growing intense as their desires grew until neither could take it anymore. Sohyun ripped off her clothes desperate to be bare for her mate and Doflamingo followed suit.

As they stood before each other bare Sohyun noticed a new thing about Doflamingo…well two new things. She marveled at his two cocks. She raised an eyebrow before saying, “have you always had two um…dicks?”

she was obviously surprised as was Doflamingo. He stared at them before he said “um we should probably research weredragons but not right now because I need to fuck you…no I need to breed you. I need you to have my litter,” he said as the dragon took over. He crossed the distance between them and traced her jawline before lining his bigger cock with her slit, Sohyun moaned as he filled her with him. Sohyun moaned.

“Fuck!” Sohyun groaned as she grabbed Doflamingo’s horns and locked her legs around his hips.

“Come on Doffy take me.”

Doflamingo groaned as he grabbed her waist. Sohyun smiled as she felt his manhood pierce her. As they mated their scents danced around each other Sohyun smiled as she smelled their scents mixed and moaned as the pleasure overtook her. Doflamingo smirked happy his mate was lost in the pleasure. He dug his claws gently into his mates hips and increased his intensity. Sohyun groaned as she came on one of Doflamingo’s cocks.

“Fuck you fill me so well. Get rougher with me,” she moaned knowing that both of them needed this. Doflamingo then fully let go and let the dragon take over. His blackberry scent amassing and claiming Sohyun as hers reciprocated the action. He rammed his cock in and out of her as his inner dragon overtook all of him.

“Youre mine. My greatest treasure nothing compares. Not diamonds not gold, nothing.” he says as his cock tears through her walls. Sohyun moans and teases.

“How sappy.” her words hit their mark as Doflamingo loses himself to his orgasm. His smaller cock explodes all over Sohyun’s chest and torso. Doflamingo watches with lust as Sohyun rubs his cum all over her body

“Fuck now I'm properly yours,” she says as she cums for the second time before collapsing on the couch. She turns to Doflamingo staring at both his hard cocks hungrily but the soreness preventing her from satiating that lust frustrates her.

“Fuck I'm exhausted but I want more,” she groans.

“Fuck I have felt like I've entered a rut, but Im too sore and tired.”

She turns to Doffy and says, “Tomorrow we are gonna whenever we can. Got it,”

“Okay take tomorrow off then. You have a previous engagement,” Soyhun

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, bathing their room in a soft golden glow as Doflamingo stretched his limbs. His dragon form was still prominent, the crimson and gold hues of his scales glinting faintly in the light. The sheer weight of his body now felt oddly natural, but his alarm clock blaring had jolted him into a grumpy mood.

“Ugh,” he groaned, slamming the clock off with more force than necessary. “Why is everything louder now? Even that damn alarm.”

Sohyun chuckled softly, her kirin form still draped lazily across the bed. Her silver and cloud-like markings shimmered, her mane wild but elegant. She turned to face him, her voice teasing yet tender. “You know, babe, after the success of my last book, we’re pretty set financially. You really don’t need to keep dragging yourself to that boring office job.” She smirked, her eyes gleaming with playful mischief. “I’d much rather have you as my house husband—or my babygirl if that suits you better.”

Doflamingo’s dragon stirred, growling low in his chest. The teasing was good-natured, but his alpha instincts prickled. He wasn’t going to be anyone’s “baby girl,” even if the thought of staying by Sohyun’s side all day was tempting.

“You know what?” he said, his voice deep and commanding, the resonance of his dragon evident. “Screw that job.”

Sohyun’s laugh was rich and delighted as she watched him march over to his laptop. He quickly fired off an email to his boss, cashing out his vacation time. The decisiveness in his actions only made her kirin purr in satisfaction.

When he returned to the bed, Sohyun let out a dramatic groan, her tail flicking in protest as she noticed him gathering clothes. “Ugh, I thought you weren’t going to work today. Why are you getting dressed?”

Doflamingo smirked, shaking his head as he slipped into some comfortable jeans. “I’m not going to work, but I do need to figure out what this new life is going to look like. Being a weredragon comes with its own… complications.”

Sohyun perked up, rolling onto her stomach and propping her chin on her hands. Her voice was laced with excitement as she asked, “Oh? And what does figuring it out involve?”

He glanced over his shoulder, holding up his phone. “I’m scheduling an appointment with a weredragon expert.”

That caught her attention. She jumped out of bed and bounded over, her body brushing against his as she peeked over his shoulder to see the website he was browsing. Her scent—sweet and electric—wrapped around him, making his dragon rumble in approval.

“Oh,” she said, her voice brightening. “He’s a college professor. Wait, I know this guy!”

Doflamingo raised a brow, intrigued. “Do you?”

“Yeah! He came to one of my book signings.” She grinned, her kirin tail swishing behind her. “He asked some really deep questions about the abuse in therianthrope communities, like the werehyena and wereorca packs. Super passionate guy. Gave me a scathing review, though, for how I framed matriarchal customs.”

Doflamingo chuckled, turning to face her fully. “Sounds like he knows his stuff, at least. That’s what we need right now.”

Sohyun nodded in agreement but quickly shifted the topic. “But before we dive into all that, don’t forget we’ve got my parents to meet today. They’ve been dying to know when I’m finally going to settle down.” She smirked, running a clawed hand gently over Doflamingo’s chest. “And I want them to see my new alpha partner.”

He laughed, the deep rumble in his chest making Sohyun’s kirin hum in delight. “Your parents, huh? I hope they’re ready for this.”

“Oh, they’ll love you,” Sohyun assured him, her eyes sparkling. “And if they don’t, well, I do, and that’s what matters.”

The two of them exchanged a quick, affectionate kiss before setting about their morning routine. Even as they prepared for the day ahead, their natural chemistry and ease with each other shone through. Whether it was Doflamingo playfully swatting Sohyun’s tail as she teased him about his outfit, or Sohyun stealing bites of his breakfast while declaring she wasn’t hungry, the comfort and love between them were undeniable.

By the time they left the apartment, they were ready to face the world together—new challenges, nosy parents, and all.

The cafe buzzed with quiet conversation as Sohyun and Doflamingo entered, the scent of fresh coffee and baked goods filling the air. But to Doflamingo, the sensory overload was more pronounced than ever—scents, sounds, and even the faintest hum of emotions seemed amplified. His dragon thrummed beneath his skin, purring with approval as his eyes locked onto the two figures seated by the window: Sohyun’s parents.

Both alphas, Sohyun’s mother a regal wereKirin with a shimmering silver mane, and her father a stately wereGriffin whose piercing gaze seemed to cut through the room. Yet, as they turned to greet their daughter, their composure faltered.

The presence of another alpha rolled through the room like a tide. It wasn’t oppressive or overbearing, but it demanded acknowledgment. Sohyun’s parents froze momentarily, their instincts forcing them to reevaluate this newcomer. The aura was unlike anything they’d expected. It was commanding yet warm, feral yet refined.

Doflamingo.

When they’d first met him months ago, he’d been ambitious but very much human—a scrappy, determined man who exuded potential but lacked the innate authority of a true alpha. Now, that same man stood before them transformed. His aura was magnetic, his presence so grounded that even Sohyun’s parents, both experienced alphas, felt a pull toward him.

Sohyun’s mother stammered, breaking the silence as she tried to reconcile this man with the one she’d met before. “Doflamingo, you’ve… changed.”

Doflamingo smiled, the gesture as charming as ever, but there was an edge to it now—a sharpness that wasn’t there before. He shrugged casually, his voice steady and smooth. “We’re always changing, aren’t we? But yeah, I suppose I’ve been through some things. It’s not an issue, is it?”

His tone was pleasant, almost disarming, but the weight behind his words made Sohyun’s parents hesitate. For a moment, they felt like prey before a predator—a sensation they hadn’t experienced in years.

Sohyun’s father cleared his throat, trying to shake the unease. “You’re the Red Dragon Archfiend we’ve been hearing about, aren’t you?”

Both Sohyun and Doflamingo frowned in confusion before her mother explained. “There have been rumors. A human turned by a weredragon who fought tooth and nail to protect his mate. The description matches you.”

Sohyun beamed with pride, leaning slightly into Doflamingo. “Yep, that’s him. My Red Dragon Archfiend.”

Her parents exchanged a glance. Weredragons were rare and notoriously unpredictable, their power immense and their temperaments volatile. To have someone like Doflamingo, already fervent and intense, take on such a form… It was both exhilarating and terrifying to witness.

Still, they couldn’t deny the way he carried it. The strength, the confidence—it radiated from him like sunlight. Even as fear lingered in their hearts, there was a magnetic pull that left them enthralled. Sohyun’s parents found themselves unconsciously leaning into his presence more than once, unable to resist the sheer gravity of his being.

Sohyun and Doflamingo noticed the shifting emotions rolling off her parents, their scents a tangled mix of pride, fear, and awe. But it hit Doflamingo harder than he expected. His senses, sharper since his transformation, picked up every nuance, and his dragon stirred with interest.

Dragons liked power, and power was everywhere. Sohyun was powerful, of course—his equal in every way—but now, sitting across from these two dominant alphas, his dragon was curious. It wasn’t attraction in the traditional sense; it was more primal, instinctive. His body hummed with the latent desire to engage, to test boundaries, to claim.

Doflamingo found himself flirting unconsciously, his tone charming, his words laced with subtle compliments that made both Sohyun’s parents pause. Sohyun’s mother laughed at one of his remarks, her cheeks faintly flushing, while her father raised a brow, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips.

Sohyun watched the interaction with amusement and understanding. She knew what was happening. Her mate’s dragon wasn’t tied to the rigid human constructs of attraction or preference—it was fluid, bound by power and connection. Doflamingo was still hers, fiercely loyal and devoted, but his instincts were awakening in ways that neither of them had fully anticipated.

By the time brunch ended, Sohyun’s parents had softened considerably. Their initial reservations about Doflamingo had melted away, replaced by cautious admiration. They could see he wasn’t a liability; he was an asset. And as they said their goodbyes, her father muttered, almost begrudgingly, “Maybe we were wrong about that arranged marriage idea.”

Sohyun grinned, her arm looping around Doflamingo’s as they walked out. “Told you they’d love you.”

Doflamingo chuckled, leaning down to kiss her temple. “I think your mom has a crush on me.”

Sohyun rolled her eyes but laughed. “Don’t push your luck, Red Dragon Archfiend.”

As they strolled down the street, Doflamingo felt more at ease. The swirling emotions, the shifting dynamics—it was a lot to process, but he wasn’t scared anymore. He was finally beginning to understand who he was and what he could become. And with Sohyun by his side, he knew he’d figure it out.

After leaving the café, Doflamingo and Sohyun headed to the expert’s office. The building itself was nondescript, nestled between an herbal tea shop and a quirky stationery store, but the moment they stepped inside, the atmosphere shifted. The air was heavier, charged with a tension that made Sohyun’s inner kirin stir uneasily. For Doflamingo, though, it was different. The air felt alive, saturated with a primal energy that sent a shiver down his spine. His dragon rose to the surface, not in defiance but in silent, almost reverent recognition.

The receptionist, a sharp-eyed werefox, waved them through with a knowing smirk. “She’s been expecting you,” she said lightly. “Good luck.”

Sohyun raised an eyebrow but shrugged it off, leading the way. Doflamingo followed silently, his dragon buzzing with an almost childlike anticipation.

As they entered the spacious office, the overwhelming presence hit him like a wall of flame. The room was a curious mix of academia and mysticism—bookshelves stuffed with tomes that looked older than most civilizations, tapestries depicting ancient dragons, and artifacts that thrummed faintly with energy. But the true source of the oppressive energy wasn’t the room.

It was her.

Seated behind a massive oak desk was Dr. Park Sooyoung, a woman whose aura was like a living thing. She stood as they entered, her soft, round face framed by a sleek ponytail. She moved with an ease and confidence that spoke of centuries of experience, and her golden eyes gleamed with something ancient and all-knowing.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice deep and resonant, but with a warmth that belied her intimidating aura. “I’m Dr. Park Sooyoung, but most people just call me Joy.”

Doflamingo froze as her presence crashed into him. His dragon didn’t bristle as it had with Korvold; instead, it quieted, settling into a submissive calm he’d never experienced before. The feeling was… confusing. His dragon didn’t feel afraid or inferior—it felt safe like it was in the presence of something worthy of its respect.

“You’re a weredragon,” he blurted, his voice lower than usual, almost reverent.

Joy smirked, her gaze sharp but amused. “Very astute, Red Dragon Archfiend. Or should I say, Doflamingo?”

Sohyun tilted her head, watching the interaction with interest. There was something strange about Doflamingo’s posture—he was standing still, his shoulders slightly bowed, almost deferential. For a moment, she blinked in disbelief. Is he acting like an omega? The thought was absurd; she knew Doflamingo’s confidence and dominance well. But then she remembered his peculiar adoration for powerful and wise figures. No, she realized, it’s not submission. He’s just… drawn to her aura, like a moth to a flame.

Joy chuckled, her laugh a melodic yet sharp sound that sent shivers down Doflamingo’s spine. His dragon all but purred at the sound, and he felt his face flush.

“I’m not just any weredragon expert,” Joy continued, leaning against her desk with casual grace. “And I already know why you’re here. News of a human fighting Korvold and surviving? It travels fast. But I wasn’t expecting you to look so… fresh.”

The jab was subtle but deliberate, and Doflamingo’s dragon rumbled faintly in protest. He stiffened, his jaw clenching. “Korvold was reckless,” he said evenly. “I did what I had to do to protect my mate.”

Joy’s golden eyes flickered to Sohyun, then back to Doflamingo. Her smirk deepened, amusement flickering across her features. “Protecting your mate? Admirable. Stupid, but admirable.” Her aura pressed against his, firm yet oddly comforting.

For a moment, his mind went blank. His dragon surged forward, a low hum of approval resonating in his chest. Before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out:

“Well, maybe I need a strong, wise lady like you to teach me restraint.”

The room went still for a heartbeat before Sohyun groaned, covering her face with both hands. “Oh my God, Doffy?”

Joy, however, threw her head back and laughed—a sound that was both mocking and strangely approving. “You’re bold, I’ll give you that. But I’m far too old for you, young one.”

Doflamingo’s lips curled into a smirk, his crimson eyes glowing faintly as his dragon murmured its agreement. “Age is just a number, isn’t it? Dragons don’t play by those rules.”

Sohyun watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and secondhand embarrassment. He’s hopeless, she thought, biting back a laugh as Joy’s aura seemed to soften, her amusement genuine.

Joy regarded him for a moment longer before shifting her attention to Sohyun. “You’ve got your hands full with this one,” she said dryly.

Sohyun grinned, crossing her arms. “Oh, you have no idea.”

The conversation turned to the peculiarities of weredragons, with Joy explaining their unique dynamics—how every weredragon was born an alpha but shaped their aura differently depending on their hoard and instincts. As Joy spoke, Doflamingo couldn’t shake the magnetic pull of her presence. It wasn’t romantic or even necessarily submissive; it was awe, plain and simple.

For a fleeting moment, Sohyun wondered if his dragon was trying to form a bond with Joy. But as she watched him glance at her, his eyes softening in a way they only ever did for her, she knew the truth. His loyalty to her was unshakable. Joy’s aura might be impressive, but it would never hold a candle to the bond they shared.

By the time they left, Doflamingo was uncharacteristically quiet, his thoughts a swirling mix of awe, respect, and confusion. Sohyun broke the silence first.

The walk back from Dr. Joy’s office was filled with an air of reflection—at least for Doflamingo. For once, he wasn’t his usual self-assured, frenetic self. His gaze drifted downward, his hands stuffed deep in his pockets, while Sohyun walked beside him, clearly waiting for him to speak first.

She finally broke the silence, nudging his arm lightly. “Alright, out with it. What’s going on in that fiery head of yours?”

Doflamingo glanced at her, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the dim light of the street lamps. “I just… I felt weird in there. Like, weird.”

Sohyun tilted her head, intrigued. “Weird how? Do you mean Joy? Or the vibe of the place?”

“Both,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “But mostly Joy. The second we walked in, it was like… my dragon couldn’t stop staring at her. It was like…” He trailed off, frowning as he searched for the right words. “It wasn’t just admiration or respect. It was deeper. Like, instinct.”

Sohyun raised an eyebrow. “Instinct?”

“Yeah, like…” He hesitated, lowering his voice as if someone else might overhear. “For a second, I thought I was about to submit to her.”

Sohyun blinked, caught off guard. “Submit? You?”

“Yeah,” Doflamingo muttered, clearly embarrassed. “And that’s not normal for me, right? I mean, I’m a dragon now—an alpha. I don’t submit. But when she looked at me…” He exhaled sharply. “I felt small. Like she could crush me with just a thought.”

Sohyun’s lips twitched upward, though she quickly pressed them into a neutral line. “And let me guess, your dragon wasn’t mad about it.”

“Exactly!” Doflamingo said, his voice rising slightly. “It wasn’t mad. It was… content. Like it wanted to roll over and show her its belly or something. And for a second, I thought…” He trailed off again, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I thought I might be an omega.”

At that, Sohyun couldn’t hold it in anymore. She burst out laughing, doubling over and clutching her stomach as tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “Oh my God, Doffy! An omega? You?”

He scowled, though his ears turned a faint shade of red. “I’m serious, Soho. Don’t laugh.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she said, waving a hand as she tried to compose herself. “It’s just—an omega? You’re the most alpha person I know. Even my parents, who are literal legends, don’t make you back down. And now you think you’re an omega because you got a little flustered around Joy?”

“It wasn’t just flustered,” he grumbled. “It was… more than that.”

Sohyun wiped her eyes, finally catching her breath. “Doffy, listen to me. You’re not an omega. You’re just… you.”

He frowned, still unconvinced. “Then why did it feel like that?”

“Because,” Sohyun said, smirking, “you’re a sucker for powerful, wise people. You always have been. And now that you’re a weredragon, your dragon is amplifying that. Joy’s not just powerful—she’s ancient. She’s everything you look up to: strength, knowledge, agency. Of course, you wanted to submit. It’s not about you being an omega—it’s about your dragon recognizing someone higher up the food chain.”

Doflamingo stared at her, processing her words. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Sohyun said confidently. “It’s like joy told just told you: dragons are drawn to strength. Joy’s aura is practically screaming, ‘I’m the boss.’ Your dragon isn’t used to feeling outclassed, so it panicked and latched onto her like a baby bird imprinting on its mom.”

That image made Doflamingo groan, covering his face with one hand. “Great. Now I feel even more pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Sohyun said, her voice softening as she reached up to tug his hand away. “It’s normal, Doffy. You’re still figuring out what it means to be a dragon. And honestly? I think it’s kind of cute.”

“Cute?” he repeated, his tone incredulous. “You think me almost groveling is cute?”

“Yeah,” she said with a teasing grin. “Because it shows you’re still you, deep down. You’ve always respected power and wisdom. You used to flirt with me for the same reasons, remember?”

Doflamingo blinked. “Wait, what?”

“Oh, come on,” Sohyun said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t act like you don’t know. You were totally into me when I gave that lecture on therianthrope hierarchy. You even stayed behind to ask questions you already knew the answers to, just so you could keep talking to me. Granted they were incredibly profound and probing but you love picking the brains of people who are equal or greater than you.”

He opened his mouth to deny it, but the knowing look in her eyes made him pause. “…Okay, maybe. But that’s not the same thing.”

“It’s the same thing,” she said, poking his chest. “The only difference is, now you’re a dragon, so your instincts are stronger. But it doesn’t change who you are. You’re still loyal to me. And that’s what matters.”

Doflamingo sighed, though his lips quirked up in a faint smile. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

“And you love me for it,” Sohyun said, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“Yeah,” he admitted, pulling her closer. “I do.”

As they continued walking, Doflamingo felt a little more at ease. He didn’t fully understand his instincts yet, but Sohyun’s insight helped him realize that he didn’t need to fight them. If his dragon wanted to admire powerful auras, so be it. At the end of the day, he was still hers—and that was all that mattered.

The day had been long, filled with miles of travel and lessons that left Sohyun and Doflamingo’s minds spinning. When they finally returned home, they fell into their usual rhythm of unwinding—Doflamingo diving into his music and Sohyun typing away at her upcoming novel. It was a peaceful ritual they shared, the perfect way to decompress after the demands of the outside world.

Sohyun leaned back on the couch, her laptop balanced on her knees as her fingers moved over the keyboard. The familiar sounds of Doflamingo’s studio work filled the air—guitar riffs, drumbeats, and his low hums as he pieced together melodies. Normally, she let the instrumentals blend into the background, an ambient accompaniment to her thoughts. But tonight, something tugged at her attention.

It was his lyrics.

Her fingers paused over the keys as she listened. For the first time, she truly heard his words, catching phrases that struck a chord deep within her.

“Pushed Aside to die slow inside. Face the pain to fight another day. This can’t be it this can’t be fucking it. Will you fold or will you hold the line?”

Sohyun’s chest tightened. The weight of the words hit her harder with each line, painting a vivid picture of pain, anger, and yearning. It was like listening to the very soul of therianthropes—of people like her and Doflamingo—laid bare. Themes of alienation, persecution, and the endless struggle for acceptance coursed through every line. She had been so focused on his melodies before that she’d completely missed the depth of his storytelling.

She was furious with herself.

Her gaze snapped to Doflamingo, who was seated in his studio corner, his headphones over one ear as he adjusted levels on his drum track. His brow was furrowed in concentration, his fingers moving deftly over the controls. He looked so calm, so casual as if he hadn’t just unraveled a tapestry of raw emotion for the world to hear.

Sohyun stood abruptly, her laptop sliding off her lap onto the couch. Her feet carried her to his side before she even realized what she was doing. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and slapped him lightly across the face.

Doflamingo jolted in surprise, his hands freezing mid-motion as he turned to her, his eyes wide with confusion. “Um… Soho? What was that for?”

She crossed her arms, her eyes blazing with intensity. “You went to that job day in and day out,” she began, her voice trembling with equal parts frustration and disbelief. “You’ve been sitting on this—this talent, this gift—and doing nothing with it?”

“I… what?” he asked, blinking at her like she’d just started speaking in tongues.

“Your music!” she said, gesturing wildly at his equipment. “Do you even realize what you’ve written here? The way you’ve captured what it means to be us? To be seen as monsters, to fight against it, to try and find a place in a world that doesn’t want us? This isn’t just a song, Doffy—it’s a masterpiece.”

Doflamingo scratched the back of his neck, clearly taken aback. “I mean… I just write what I feel. It’s not—”

“Finish it,” she interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Finish that song and release it. Now.”

He stared at her for a long moment, his lips parted as if to protest. But the fire in her eyes stopped him. She wasn’t asking—she was demanding. And he knew better than to argue when she looked at him like that.

“Okay,” he said finally, turning back to his equipment. “Okay, I’ll finish it.”

Sohyun stood over him like a hawk, her arms crossed as he got to work. He adjusted levels, tweaked the mix, and refined the drumline, his fingers flying across the controls. She didn’t move, her eyes fixed on him with an impatience that spurred him to work faster.

“Almost done,” he muttered, his voice barely audible over the sound of his heartbeat.

Minutes later, he leaned back in his chair with a sigh of relief. “Alright. Done. It’s ready.”

“What’s it called?” Sohyun asked, her voice softer now but still tinged with urgency.

“‘Atlas,’” he replied, his tone hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure how she’d react.

She smiled—a small, satisfied smile that made his chest tighten. “Perfect. Now release it.”

Doflamingo hesitated, his fingers hovering over the upload button. “You sure about this? I mean, it’s kind of raw, and—”

“Doffy,” she said firmly, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Release. It.”

He exhaled sharply, nodded, and pressed the button. The song was uploaded under his artist name, Red Dragon Archfiend, a name he’d never expected anyone to care about but it was starting to grow on him. Yet here she was, standing beside him like his fiercest advocate.

“It’s done,” he said, leaning back with a mix of relief and nervous energy.

Sohyun beamed at him, her earlier intensity giving way to warmth. “Good. Now come on.” She grabbed his hand, pulling him up from his chair. “You’ve just shared a part of your soul with the world. Let’s celebrate.”

Doflamingo let her lead him out of the room, his heart still racing from the whirlwind of her fervor. He glanced back at his studio setup, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. She led him to their bedroom and pushed him on the bed. Her gaze was furious as she said,

“You’ve been a little slut today a bratty little slut. First, you flirt with my parents, then you flirt with that sexy dragon lady yeah I found her hot too, but now I learn you have an artistic gift and you squander to work a menial office job. I’m fucking furious,” Doffy felt himself growing harder under her gaze but worried so he flared his aura to make sure she was okay. Sohyun got the marker and said.

“I’m not Angry babe, but if you don’t strip and shift right now I’ll rip your clothes off and forcibly send us both into a rut. So please strip and shift for me,” Doflamingo nodded as he complied. Sohyun purred but frowned when she noticed he was having problems shifting.

“Babe don't force,” Sohyun said as she watched noticing his body contort and not be able to shift.

“I'm sorry babe I just feel overwhelmed with everything that's happened the last two days,” Doflamingo said tensely. Sohyun nodded her eyes hazy as lust overtook her. She went behind Doffy and bent him over the bed.

“Just relax baby girl and let daddy take care of it,” Doflamingo’s heart fluttered but remained tense as Sohyun’s ardor was about to get lascivious but also intense.

Sohyun moaned as her member expanded from within her. She smiled before ramming the rod into Doffy’s ass. As she bottoms out Doffy moans his mind is cleared and he finally shifts for her as both his cocks harden at her penetration sending him into a rut. Sohyun smiles as her mate takes her full length. She spanks his ass and teases him as she fucks him, “Did my little slut like that? Did my baby girl need his daddy to clear that silly little head?”

Doflamingo whimpers as his ass tightens around Sohyun’s member. Sohyun moans as she feels the lust overtake her mate. She watches happily knowing that after she fucks him he’ll fuck her.

“God you just have juiciest sluttiest ass Doffy. I could spank and play with it all day.” Sohyun moans as tightens her grip on his pillowy ass. Doflamingo growls with lust as his mind tears between euphoria and aggression. Sohyun delights in watching her mate struggle with his impulses. She knows he wants nothing more than to submit to her but he's her alpha, not her omega he isn't just some tight hole to fuck.

So as Sohyun knots her mate filling his ass with her seed she is unsurprised when her mate is overtaken by his instincts and growls before placing her in the mating press position. Sohyun stares at her mate with an immeasurable lust that Doflamingo mirrors. His cocks throb and pulse violently in the air.

Sohyun stares into his crimson eyes as he caresses her body lovingly before sliding his smaller cock into her sopping pussy and his bigger cock into her ass. Sohyun moaned and whimpered as Doflamingo violated her. His thrusts were as wild and fiery as he was. His eyes wandered over Sohyun’s lithe body as he claimed her. Sohyun’s body readily submitted for her equal. She laughed as his cocks went deep inside of her and how they took her to new highs and fucked her rapaciously and rapidly until he couldn't take it anymore.

Doflamingo’s orgasm was as violent as a wildfire tearing through a forest it fully consumed him as his seed spewed into Sohyun’s greedy cunt, but their fervor didn't stop them… not consumed by instincts and primal ties the alphas bred each other until neither could take it anymore, by the time their ruts had finally abated they had killed an entire week and a half.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains as Doflamingo and Sohyun sat on the edge of the bed, lazily getting ready to start their day. The comforting quiet between them was broken when Sohyun groaned, dragging her hands down her face.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

Doflamingo glanced over, pulling a shirt over his head. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone warm and curious, though concern flickered in his eyes.

She let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back onto the bed dramatically. “The tour starts today.”

He raised an eyebrow, sitting down beside her. “The book tour?”

“Yeah,” she said, her voice tinged with annoyance. “Completely forgot it was today.”

Doflamingo chuckled softly and reached over to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. “Well, that’s not so bad. We’ve got time to get you ready. Let’s get you to the airport.”

Sohyun groaned again, burying her face in the pillow. “I hate being away for so long. It always feels like there’s so much going on, and I’d rather be here… with you.”

He smiled at her words, the warmth of her admission settling deep in his chest. “You’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, Soho. I’ll be here when you get back, same as always.”

She lifted her face to look at him, her pout unmistakable. “But I hate being away from my mate. It’s unnatural.”

Doflamingo tilted his head, his grin softening into something gentler. “I get that, but think about it this way—you’re gonna meet so many people who love your books. Your words change people’s lives, Soho. That’s worth something, right?”

Her pout didn’t budge, but her eyes softened as she looked up at him. “I guess,” she muttered.

“You guess?” he teased, nudging her shoulder. “Come on. You know I’ll be cheering you on from here. And hey, maybe you can write about how much you miss me in your next novel. Make me the tragic, romantic hero or something.”

That earned a small laugh from her, and she shoved him playfully. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” he admitted with a grin. “But seriously, Soho, you’ve got this. And you’re not gonna be gone forever. I’ll call you every day if you want. Morning, noon, night—you name it.”

Her lips curved into a small smile, and she sat up, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You’re the best, you know that?”

“Of course I do,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, come on. Let’s get you packed.”

It took about 45 minutes for Sohyun to get everything ready. As excited as she was for the tour, she still hated the thought of leaving him behind. She stood at the door with her luggage, glancing back at him as he grabbed his keys.

“You sure you’re okay driving me to the airport?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said, slinging an arm around her shoulders as they headed out. “Consider it a free ride from your biggest fan.”

The ride to the airport was quiet and solemn, with Sohyun staring out the window as if committing every detail of the city to memory. Doflamingo kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting comfortably on the console, his fingers tapping idly to a rhythm only he could hear.

Every so often, he glanced at her, his disarming smile never faltering. “You know,” he said, breaking the silence, “I’ve got a little surprise for you when you get back.”

Her eyebrows lifted, and she turned to him. “What kind of surprise?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see,” he said, his grin widening. “But I promise, it’ll be worth it.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was a flicker of curiosity in them now. “You’re insufferable sometimes.”

“And yet, you love me,” he said, his voice playful.

“Unfortunately,” she said with a smirk, her mood noticeably lighter.

When they arrived at the airport, Doflamingo helped her unload her bags, refusing to let her carry anything heavy. As they stood near the entrance, the finality of their parting began to sink in. Sohyun hesitated, fiddling with the strap of her carry-on.

“Hey,” Doflamingo said gently, stepping closer. “You’re gonna be amazing out there. I know it.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. “I’ll miss you,” she admitted, her voice quiet.

“I’ll miss you too,” he said, wrapping his arms around her. “But you’ll be back before you know it. And when you are, I want to hear all about it. Deal?”

“Deal,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

As she finally turned to leave, Doflamingo called after her, “Don’t forget—tragic, romantic hero. Put me in the next book!”

She laughed, shaking her head as she disappeared into the terminal. And as Doflamingo drove home, he couldn’t stop smiling, already counting down the days until she returned.

As Doflamingo watched Sohyun leave, a pang of sadness settled in his chest. This would be the longest time they’d spent apart since moving in together, and the absence was already palpable. The apartment felt quieter, emptier, without her. He shook off the feeling and told himself to stay busy.

He threw himself into his usual distractions—writing more music, playing video games, and just messing around. Hours turned into days, and during one particularly restless night, inspiration struck. With the momentum of Atlas still buzzing in the back of his mind, he picked up his guitar and began crafting a new track. This one was heavier, more aggressive—a metalcore piece he eventually titled Duel.

The song reflected the growing polarization he’d noticed in society, the friction between people who couldn’t see eye to eye, and the struggle to find one’s place amid the chaos. The lyrics came easily, pouring out of him in a raw, unfiltered flow. Duel felt cathartic, but to Doflamingo, it was just another project. Metalcore songs about sticking out and finding your place were a dime a dozen, after all. He released it without much fanfare, assuming it would be a side note in his burgeoning music career.

Days passed, and while Doflamingo busied himself with writing and gaming, his phone began buzzing with notifications. Messages flooded his social media accounts from fans, bloggers, and even music journalists. The analytics for Duel were spiking, far exceeding his expectations. People were connecting with the song in ways he hadn’t anticipated.

He dismissed most of the messages at first, brushing off the requests for interviews as noise. But then one stood out—an offer from a reputable music platform, complete with a generous payment for his time. Doflamingo usually wasn’t one for attention, but the interview’s location happened to coincide with the city Sohyun would be in on the last day of her book tour. That was enough to convince him.

“Two birds, one stone,” he muttered to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. He could do the interview, catch up with Sohyun, and maybe even surprise her. The thought of seeing her again brightened his mood.

As the day approached, Doflamingo threw himself into preparations. He notified his job that he was quitting—his music was picking up enough traction that he felt comfortable leaping—and began packing for the trip. He spent his evenings imagining the look on Sohyun’s face when he surprised her, her eyes lighting up the way they always did when she saw him after time apart.

But as the tour went on, Sohyun grew busier. The calls that had once been nightly became sporadic, then almost nonexistent. Doflamingo understood, of course. She was out there changing the world with her stories, touching lives in ways that only she could. Still, the silence gnawed at him, and his inner dragon rumbled with unease, missing the soothing presence of their mate.

One evening, as he scrolled through photos of her book signings online, he caught himself smiling. There she was, vibrant and radiant, holding her own among throngs of fans. She looked like she belonged, and even though the distance stung, he felt a swell of pride.

“Soon,” he murmured to himself, running a hand through his hair. “Soon, I’ll see you again, Soho.”

The days seemed to stretch endlessly as he counted down to their reunion. When the morning of his trip finally arrived, Doflamingo stood in his living room, suitcase in hand, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation. His inner dragon stirred, sensing that the wait was almost over.

With a deep breath, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door, ready to face whatever awaited him—whether it was a growing music career, an unexpected interview, or simply the chance to hold his mate in his arms once more.

Sohyun sat at a long, polished table in a bustling bookstore, her pen flying across the title pages of her latest novel as fans lined up, eager for a few moments of her attention. The air was filled with the soft hum of conversation, punctuated by excited whispers and the occasional click of a camera. Despite the long day, Sohyun maintained her warm smile, greeting each person with genuine interest.

A young woman approached, clutching a worn copy of Sohyun’s first novel along with the newest release. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement. “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting you!” the woman gushed. “Your books helped me so much. I used to feel so alone, but your characters… they made me feel seen.”

Sohyun’s heart softened. “Thank you for telling me that,” she said sincerely, signing the books with a flourish. “Hearing that my work resonates with people like you makes all the hard days worth it.”

The woman beamed, holding the signed books to her chest as she moved on. Sohyun sighed softly, relishing the sense of fulfillment her work gave her, even if it couldn’t fully replace the ache of being away from home.

The line continued, and Sohyun’s rhythm became automatic—sign, smile, thank, repeat—until something unexpected caught her attention. As the next fan approached the table, a familiar melody drifted through the bookstore’s speakers. She froze mid-signature, her ears zeroing in on the song.

It was Atlas.

Her heart skipped a beat as Doflamingo’s voice poured through the airwaves, raw and full of emotion. The lyrics she had heard him write in their home studio now filled the room, and for a moment, the world around her faded.

“You okay?” the fan asked, concern lacing their tone.

Sohyun blinked, snapping out of her trance, and offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I just—this is my boyfriend’s song,” she said, gesturing toward the speakers.

The fan’s eyes widened. “Wait, your boyfriend is Red Dragon Archfiend? That’s so cool! I’ve been hearing this song everywhere.”

Sohyun couldn’t help but grin, her chest swelling with pride. “Yeah, he’s incredible, isn’t he?”

The fan nodded enthusiastically, and Sohyun quickly finished signing their book before the line continued moving. As the song played on, she felt an overwhelming sense of joy. Doflamingo’s music wasn’t just reaching people—it was resonating with them, just like her stories did.

When the event finally ended and she stepped into the quiet of the greenroom, Sohyun pulled out her phone. She immediately dialed Doflamingo, pacing the small space as the line rang.

“Hey, Soho,” he answered, his voice warm and teasing. “How’s the glamorous life of a literary star?”

“Forget me for a second,” she said, her words tumbling out in excitement. “Your song! Atlas! I just heard it on the radio at my signing event.”

There was a brief pause before he chuckled. “You serious? That’s wild.”

“Wild doesn’t even cover it,” she said, her voice brimming with pride. “The fans were buzzing about it. Doffy people love it.”

“Well, that’s good to hear,” he said, and she could hear the smile in his voice. “But it’s no big deal.”

“No big deal? Are you kidding me?” she countered, leaning against the wall with a smile. “You’re making waves, Doffy. And I couldn’t be prouder.”

His laugh was soft and self-conscious. “Thanks, Soho. But don’t go getting too sappy on me. You know I can’t handle that.”

“Too bad,” she teased. “Because when I get home, I’m throwing a full-blown celebration for you.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “But for now, you’ve got a tour to rock. And remember, I’m your biggest fan.”

Her chest tightened with affection, and she leaned her head back against the wall. “And I’m yours,” she said softly.

As they hung up, Sohyun felt lighter than she had all day. She stepped out of the green room with renewed energy, ready to tackle the next stop on her tour. All the while, the memory of Doflamingo’s song playing for the world stayed with her, a quiet reminder of the bond they shared—even when miles apart.

The hotel room was quiet except for the soft hum of the city outside. Sohyun sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop perched on her thighs, a cup of tea cooling on the nightstand. She’d spent the day meeting fans, signing books, and answering questions, but now, as she stared at the blinking cursor on the screen, her mind was elsewhere. The book she was supposed to be drafting seemed to blur into the background, and the room felt just a little too empty.

She sighed, closing her laptop and leaning back against the headboard. This was the longest she’d been away from Doflamingo since they’d moved in together, and though she’d thrown herself into her work, she couldn’t help but miss him. Her fingers itched for her phone, but she knew he was probably busy too—writing, gaming, or just being his effortlessly charming self.

Reaching for the remote, she flicked on the TV, scrolling through channels aimlessly until she landed on a late-night music program. A familiar riff caught her attention, sharp and heavy, pulling her out of her thoughts. She sat up straighter, her eyes narrowing in recognition.

“Is that…?” she murmured, her heart skipping a beat.

The screen displayed the title Duel by Red Dragon Archfiend, and her lips parted in surprise. It was Doflamingo’s new song. She hadn’t even known he’d released another track.

The music surged through the room, raw and visceral, the powerful blend of guitars and drums carrying Doflamingo’s unmistakable voice.

“We build the walls, we draw the lines,

In this duel of yours and mine.

Through the chaos, through the fire,

Can we rise above the mire?”

Sohyun felt a chill run down her spine as the lyrics filled the room. His voice was charged with emotion, every word dripping with frustration and resolve. She could hear the depth of his message, the call to resist division and find unity in the chaos.

The chorus hit, a soaring crescendo that made her heart ache with pride.

“We stand alone, but not apart,

Seeking the light, guarding the heart.

The battle’s not to fight and win,

But to break the walls within.”

A smile broke across her face, small at first but growing as the song continued. He’d done it again—poured his soul into his music and created something incredible. She could feel him in every note, his passion, his fire, his unwavering belief in standing up for what was right.

When the song ended, she sat there in stunned silence for a moment, her emotions a swirl of pride, love, and longing. She grabbed her phone and quickly dialed his number, unable to stop herself.

It rang twice before his voice came through, slightly groggy but instantly warm. “Hey, Soho. Everything okay?”

“You didn’t tell me you dropped Duel,” she said, her voice teasing but laced with emotion.

He chuckled softly. “Figured I’d surprise you. Did you hear it?”

“I just did,” she said, her smile widening. “They played it on TV. It’s amazing, Doffy. I’m so proud of you.”

There was a pause, and she could almost hear him grinning on the other end. “Thanks, Soho. That means a lot coming from you.”

“It’s not just me,” she added. “People are going to love it. You’ve got something special, you know that?”

His voice softened. “Maybe. But I’m just glad it made you smile. That’s all that matters.”

Her chest tightened at his words, and she leaned back against the headboard, the longing she’d felt earlier now replaced by a deep, steady warmth. “I miss you,” she admitted quietly.

“I miss you too,” he said, his tone matching hers. “But hey two more days right?” he lied as he entered his hotel.

Sohyun hung up the phone and set it on the nightstand, sighing as she stared at the dark ceiling of her hotel room. The bed felt too big, too cold without Doflamingo beside her. Her chest tightened with the pang of missing him, and as much as she tried to focus on the fact that she’d see him soon, it wasn’t enough. She needed him now.

Without thinking too much about it, she reached for her phone again and dialed his number. It rang only once before he picked up, his deep voice filling her ears.

“Hey, babe, what’s up? Thought you were going to sleep,” he said, his tone laced with concern.

“Hey, baby,” Sohyun began, her voice low and husky, a mix of longing and something darker. “I need you.”

Doflamingo was silent for a moment, but she could hear the shift in his breathing. He knew this tone well—it was the one she used when her desires consumed her when the distance between them became unbearable. He sighed, a little frustrated but mostly amused.

“Well… this was supposed to be a surprise,” he said slowly, “but I’m going to send you an address. Take a taxi there and call me when you get there.”

Sohyun raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “A surprise, huh?”

“Yeah, just trust me. Get over here,” he said with a chuckle.

She didn’t ask any more questions, instead grabbing her bag and heading downstairs. The taxi ride was short but felt like an eternity as her mind raced with possibilities. When they pulled up to the address, she stepped out, staring at the tall, modern hotel in front of her.

“Another hotel?” she muttered to herself as she walked through the automatic doors.

The lobby was sleek and bustling with activity despite the late hour. Sohyun’s sharp eyes scanned the space until they landed on a familiar figure standing near the reception desk, his back to her. Doflamingo was casually leaning against the counter, his tall frame unmistakable even in the crowd. He was wearing his favorite leather jacket, the one she always teased him about, and his hair was slightly tousled as though he hadn’t bothered to fix it properly.

Her heart skipped a beat. “Doffy?” she called out softly, her voice trembling with both surprise and relief.

He didn’t hear her over the chatter and soft music in the background, so she did the only thing that felt right—she ran. Her feet carried her across the lobby, and before she could stop herself, she tackled him in a fierce hug from behind.

Doflamingo stiffened in surprise, spinning around to face his attacker, only to see Sohyun clinging to him. His eyes widened as he took in her appearance. She’d cut her hair shorter since he’d last seen her, and it framed her face perfectly. There was something strikingly powerful about her tonight—her usual graceful poise replaced with a more commanding presence.

“Sohyun?” he asked, blinking. Then his nose caught her scent, rich and intoxicating, flooding him with desire.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were here?” she demanded, though her voice lacked any real anger. She tightened her hold on him, burying her face against his chest.

Doflamingo chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “It was supposed to be a surprise, remember? You weren’t supposed to find out until tomorrow.”

“Well, surprise,” she said, pulling back slightly to look up at him. Her eyes sparkled with joy, and the faintest hint of a smirk played on her lips.

He grinned down at her, his usual cocky demeanor slipping as the raw adoration he felt for her took over. “I didn’t expect you to tackle me in the middle of the lobby,” he teased, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“I missed you,” she admitted, her voice softening.

“I missed you too, babe,” he replied, his voice dipping into a low growl as his grip on her tightened. His eyes darkened as he caught another wave of her scent, and his inner dragon stirred restlessly.

As Sohyun squeezed Doflamingo in the hotel lobby, her senses immediately picked up on something different. His presence felt… amplified. The moment her arms wrapped around him, she was hit by the intensity of his aura—stronger, sharper, more commanding than ever before. It wasn’t just the comforting warmth she was used to; it felt like standing in the eye of a storm, a force of nature barely restrained.

When he turned to face her, she saw it in his eyes, too—a fierceness that seemed to glow beneath his usual mischievous gaze. She blinked, momentarily stunned, before whispering, “Doffy… what’s going on with you?”

He tilted his head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Your aura,” she said, stepping back slightly to get a better look at him. Her hands lingered on his chest, feeling the faint vibration of his energy. “It’s stronger. Like… you’ve evolved or something. It wasn’t like this before I left.”

Doflamingo blinked, then chuckled softly. “You think so?”

“I know so,” she said firmly, her alpha instincts kicking in. She could sense the change as clearly as if it were etched into his skin. “You’ve grown, Doflamingo. You’ve leveled up.”

He scratched the back of his head, a little sheepish despite the confidence that always seemed to radiate from him. “Well… I have been working on myself while you were gone. Writing music, pushing my limits. Maybe it’s all starting to pay off.”

Sohyun smiled, her eyes scanning him with a mix of pride and awe. “It’s not just paying off. You’re on a whole new level. I can feel it. It’s like… you’re stepping into your power.”

Her words struck something deep within him. Doflamingo had always been confident in his abilities, but hearing her acknowledge his growth made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t expected.

“I guess it helps when you’ve got someone like you to inspire me,” he said, his voice soft but filled with sincerity.

Sohyun’s heart swelled, and she tightened her grip on his hand. “You’ve been doing this on your own, Doffy. And it’s amazing. I’m proud of you.”

Doflamingo’s grin returned, wider and brighter than ever. “Thanks, babe. But I’m not done yet.”

Sohyun smirked, her alpha confidence meeting his energy. “Good. Because I think you’ve still got more in you.”

Before Sohyun could say another word, Doflamingo leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he growled, “Follow me to my room. I need you now.”

Her cheeks flushed, but she smiled, her alpha confidence shining through as she nodded. “Lead the way.”

Without another word, Doflamingo grabbed her hand and guided her toward the elevators, their connection palpable and undeniable. As the elevator doors closed, Sohyun couldn’t help but marvel at how this man—her mate—always found a way to surprise her, even when she thought she knew everything about him.

When she entered his room she smiled. Finally wrapped around his familiar scent and aura she purred with delight so much so she couldn't feel the lust emanating from her mate. In her trance of pleasure, she barely noticed how he ripped her white t-shirt open and grabbed at her breasts or how he growled as he stole another kiss from her lips. She just basked in his closeness until his voice rang out “Take your jacket and pants off now,”

Coming out of her trance she moans as Doffy kisses her neck and gently massage her breasts. Realizing how much they needed each other Sohyun takes her red jacket and pants off.

Unable to control themselves they shift as they kiss, thankfully this was a therianthrope hotel so the beds and furniture were built with their strength in mind.

Sohyun moans as she feels Doflamingo’s hands run all over her body. How he grips her breasts running his hands all over her body. She smirks as she feels his cocks harden under her.

“You look like sex,” Doflamingo moaned in between kisses unfamiliar with his shifted form’s long forked tongue however caused his s sounds to slur to almost a hiss. It made Sohyun purr with delight as her hands rolled over his crimson-scaled body. Eventually, Doflamingo can’t take it anymore and begins stroking his cocks to prep himself. Sohyun smiles and says

“What are you waiting for big guy? Fucking rail me!”

Sohyun’s slitted eyes dilate as she watches Doffy slowly push his smaller cock inside of her pussy. She moans uncontrollably as the bigger one approaches her other hole.

“Fuck Doffy put both in my pussy. Fuck! Give it to me,” she moans before Doffy rams his cocks in her pussy. Sohyun clenches around him as she tries to process her new sensations. Overwhelmed by the pleasure Sohyun moans as she cums all over Doffy’s cocks not long before Doffy follows suit. As their bodies relax from their expedited orgasms they fall into the bed. Sohyun purrs as stares wantonly at Doffy’s cocks. She reaches out slowly to massage the smaller one and watches Doffy squirm as his body jerks in her hands.

“Okay, so this is the sensitive one.”She says happily. “You’ve been cumming so much I wondered which cock was the one that drives you feral with lust.” She adds happily Doflamingo growls as he fights both his lust and fatigue. Seeing this Sohyun relents and lets him go to sleep.

“Sorry big guy,” she coos as the couple cuddle throughout the night.

[weyounthevorta]

An interview with Doc Haggis (Lurking Fear, 1994)

@flowerprintundies I adore this little interview.

[felixdragonheartofficial]

TFA TEAM PRIME HUMAN REDESIGNS FINALLY

FUCK

+headcannons

Optimus: gotta stay focused

looks too old compared to his bot form.

I find it impossible for Optimus to be more than a million years old in this canon. In the least, he's older than 1000 years and since we have mfs that are canonically over 70 million years old(fagatron iykyk) compared to that, he feels like a dude in his early-to-mid-30's being the group parent.

---

-I made him more youthful, gave him curly hair, and tailored his clothing to actually look like his bot form.

-workaholic

-on the cusp of barley being able to hold his liquor

-doesn't own a pair of pajamas until Sari gets some for him

-usually forgets to put them on, but appreciates the gesture

-stays active for like, 3 days until he can't fight off sleep with work brain anymore, and unceremoniously passes out on the couch to sleep for a full 24 hours

-ratchet sighs and puts a blanket over him as per routine

-frequently checks security feed

-elf on the shelf despiser

-early morning talks with jazz and ratchet over coffee (they all wake up at 6 am)

-half thrives on caffeine and a vigorous training protocol

-is a dog person, loves German shepherds to death

David sama, pls forgive me ily very much

Ratchet: to old for this nonsense

doesn't match his body type in the slightest.

Ratchet is really old, he's got a sallow face and a gramp gut, how dare they square him. He's wayyy too angular and peachy looking.

-I gave him his luscious curves back, adding all the equipment id expect a field medic to have because he is a field medic, not a regular doctor. I changed his facial proportions, and also made his face gaunt, for that dead inside PTSD look.

---

-drinks his coffee black with brown sugar, literally drinks it piping hot

-is one of those old people who complains about noise

-confiscates bumblebee and Sari's toy cars, and puts them in a high up cabinet

-neither of them know how to bypass the child safety lock lmao

-casual clothes includes a lot- a l o t of plaid shirts, and 10 pairs of the same blue jeans

-tunes out bulkhead and prowls convos about birdwatching

-big fan of political satire dramas

-Sentinel doesn't approve

-Ratchet doesn't give a rats ass about what he thinks of course

Bumblebee: professional smart-ass

doesn't match his body type/age.

Bumblebees holoform is presented as a 10-12 year old child specifically for the fact that he's short, and the comedic relief. Total ass

I set his human age as 19-20 years old, making him more of a big brother to sari because that og model is disappointingly lackluster

---

-Bumblebee is a scrappy wisecracking punk, like an adhd kid who just got roller skates for Christmas.

-since he doesn't have wheels, I feel like he'd wear skates instead to emulate the feeling

-terrible at watching where he's going cuz he's too busy trying to show off, so ratchet makes him wear all that padding + training wheels

-legit despises the padding and training wheels

-Jealous of Blurr for mastering roller blades lmao.

-his favorite games are choose your fighter and fps

-saw ONE ancient ass assassins creed playthrough and begged ratchet to install hidden tasers in his arm bands (was denied)

-Sari used her key to do it instead

-self appointed "rizzler"

-Optimus has zero idea of what that means and thinks it's code for something dubious

-Ratchet knows what it means and thinks it's silly

-"I' was something of a rizzler myself back in my day, kid"

-bumblebee cringes

-loves summer and swimming

-wants to be the fastest thing in the sea because y'know, it's bumblebee

-is spooked from the beach for awhile cuz he saw sharks in Prowls nature documentary

-there are infact, no sharks in lake Erie

Bulkhead: big guy, bigger heart

doesn't match his body type/aspirations.

Jesus fuck he's so wide?? And his belly migrated to his shoulders?? I'm gonna be honest, I really hate this design. I feel like it contributed to the "brute strength = stupid" take that most in the fandom associates with him.

---

-Bulkhead is a SWEET. CARING. NERD YOU FOOLS. He's like the male version of a tall goth gf-

-a tall-nerdy-farm hand-physics bf, You got me fucked up.

-Its already shown that bulkhead really likes art in Addition to creating it. He hates being only seen as the "muscle" so it wouldn't make sense for him to lean into that.

-bunny slippers that him and sari made together(she provided the buttons)

-the slippers go missing sometimes (basically considered community property unless he's wearing them)

(ratchet and prowl are the main offenders)

-frequent art museum goer

-really likes watching cooking shows, but is too shy to make food himself

-Owns a ton of star maps

-Really wants a treehouse that he, bumblebee and sari can hang out in

-pillowfort enjoyer

-casually reads quantum physics at the beach

Prowl: draft dodger

Doesn't look like him at all.

Prowls holoform being a mustachioed,white, police officer was an actual jumpscare for 7 y/o me, I kid you not

---

- I know this bitch would not wear a helmet (you can't force him to) que windswept hair

-Not as much as starscreams, for obvious reasons but yk

-prowl is like one of those "shoes are a prison for your feet"

-emo hipster

-has a pet cactus named "planty"

-bumblebee heckles him for it

-can and has brought his cactus with him on early evening motorcycle rides

-the helmet is reserved for his cactus, bring your own >:(

-salad consumer

-him and jazz share custody of the cactus

-repeat victim of the cat distribution system

-ratchet has probably spent hours telling him they can't keep any animals at base

-frequent midnight picnics with jazz

-and beachcombing

-and roaming around antique stores cuz jazz wants to know what vinyl records are

-got a mug with an attempted pink chibi cat with big round shiny eyes painted onto it, courtesy of bulkhead trying to find an artsyle

-cherishes this mug to death

-has a shrine dedicated to it

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Lo'ak, Neteyam and Aonung with a Human!Reader who plays the Guitar

ᯓ★ just fluff (mention of scars from playing the guitar!!)

LO'AK

I'd like to think that out of all the siblings, he's the most knowledgeable about human culture. That's why when he found out you played the guitar, he was beaming with excitement.

He would ask so many questions too. Like were you self taught? Is it hard to play? What songs can you do?

If your guitar is decorated with stickers or whatever, he would definitely stare at it like that one meme/audio that goes "woooow 😲"

Also it doesn't matter if you're bad at it or not because just play a few chords and he'll easily think you're the most talented person in the whole world.

He praises you a lot. Like. A LOT.

Play him a song and he'll start fanboying all over the place.

He even once suggested to give your hands massages even though you said that you didn't mind the soreness.

Honestly, he's your #1 fan and he's not afraid to show it.

NETEYAM

Is a bit confused about what the instrument is but once you explain it to him and how it works. He'll realise how your culture and his are quite similar.

He's intrigued that's for sure.

When you first played it for him, his jaw dropped.

In his opinion, he preferred it if you sing when playing the guitar. He thinks your voice goes smoothly with it.

At first the whole thing started off with you insisting to play for him and asking for his opinion but soon it progresses to him asking you to play for him because he likes it.

He just can't help but admire how your fingers move so efficiently when playing, but his favourite is how focused you look, he finds it adorable.

If you ever write a song about him, he will marry you immediately.

Honestly, he's just happy to have you share your interest with him.

AONUNG

He thought it was a weapon at first.

When you told him it was for music purposes, he thought you were messing with him. You had to prove it to him by actually playing the thing.

He doesn't have much of an opinion on it since hey, if you're happy, he's happy... just don't scare him by playing so vigorously out of the blue.

When he saw that you had scars from playing, he honestly was confused why you still kept using the thing if it was gonna hurt you.

"You humans are weird"

Even though he says these things, he secretly enjoys listening to you play when you'd think he's minding his own business.

There was this one time you caught him humming the tune of the guitar you've been practising.

He would rather die than admit what you heard was true.

Honestly, he acts like a big hater but he secretly likes it.

[globalrebrand]

Divus Crewel Not Sfw Alphabet

A = Aftercare  (what they’re like after sex)

Crewel is attentive with aftercare because chances are, in your little session he demanded a lot from you, submission, devotion, enthusiasm, vigor etc. After all Crewel's favorites are those who are willing to put in the extra work to get results. He'll praise your determination as he caresses you tenderly, his demeanor isn't soft by any stretch of the imagination, he seldom lets himself get too vulnerable, but he becomes admiring of your tenacity and grace.

B = Body part  (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Crewel is a big fan of his partner's neck and back. If Crewel ever comes and puts his hand on the nap of your neck it means he wants your full attention. It's to the point now where you're basically conditioned, you could be mid-conversation but if you feel his hand slide across your shoulder to settle on your nape, you just stop talking and look at him. The satisfaction this reaction gives him is immeasurable. He loves to have you prostrated before him on your knees as he kisses up your back. You bowed before him patiently is the most alluring sign of your obedience.

Crewel likes his arms and hands most as they are the instruments through which he exercises control and shapes his lover into the ultimate tool of pleasure. And of course he uses them to give pleasure, strong arms pinning you down, deft fingers teasing you to completion. Teaching is all about guiding with a firm hand and providing encouragement, but also doling out punishment when requires.

C = Cum  (anything to do with cum, basically)

If he's not coming inside of you, he's a fan of coming in your mouth or on your sex. Seeing his spend on your tongue or dribbling down your most sensitive areas stirs his feelings of ownership, (of course anywhere else you're his equal...sort of) like he's staking his claim on your lips and tender areas.

D = Dirty secret  (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He also finds certain aspects of urophilia piss play (on his partner, definitely not on him) intriguing.

E = Experience  (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A whore. The years he spent in the fashion industry included a variety of debaucherous nights with very beautiful people. Often more than one at a time, hedonistic and throughly physically gratifying. Crewel is slightly ashamed to admit that he hasn't really had a proper partner. An extended fling for months or so, a preferred partner for play but certainly not an equal or lover that, seven forbid, he would actually want to build a life with. He finds love making with his significant other very different from these past experiences. He's still dominating, but more tender, generous, intimate and affectionate. He was a bit of a selfish lover before, deeply satisfied by the lengths people would go through to give him pleasure for nothing in return, but with you he's far more giving.

F = Favorite position  (this goes without saying)

Doggy.

But in all seriousness positions where he's fully in control. He like having you prone, while he lays on top and thrusts behind you, a hand in your hair so he can move your head as he pleases. Also you bent over a table, his loves seeing your neck and back, and while he loves your face and chest, there's just something so sensual and alluring about you prostrated in front of him.

G = Goofy  (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be playful with his teasing, but his teasing is ultimately cruel and unfortunately very very sexy. Any type of haha funny jokes will piss him off. He's fucking you, this is a time for learning, pay attention!

H = Hair  (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Immaculately groomed. Everything waxed/shaved with maybe a neat patch of hair on his groin that smells like a heady amber cologne.

He would also like you to be similarly tidy, but he does prefer a little patch of something down there. Something well trimmed he can run his fingers through casually or a good spot to ejaculate.

I = Intimacy  (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

With a partner? Very romantic, he lips seldom leave yours, his hands hold you as close as possible. He wants to feel all of your skin pressed up against his. Stay close when he draws you into his chest, disobedient pets who can't let themselves be guided by his hand will have to be punished. A corrective nip or two for small infractions and bondage and spankings for more serious ones.

Don't run away from the pain or pleasure he gives, you must learn to tolerate and relish in the intensity of his affections. Let him be your instructor, he will be firm but he rewards your obedience with deliciously rich and heady affection.

J = Jack off  (masturbation headcanon)

Without a partner, nightly or so. He's a fan of porn that features beast person models, but not exclusively so. He finds obedient submissives just so endearing, but every now and then he'll watch some brat taming.

He also has a slight preference for beastperson models, definitely not a fetish! You'd think he's be exclusively into the dog hybrids and he would never admit to it, he finds cat hybrids just as alluring. Crewel has watched a video regretfully titled, "Sunset Savanna Slut gets put in her place"

With a partner hardly ever, he'd just do straight to you. No need for such distractions when he has the real thing.

K = Kink  (one or more of their kinks)

He has a lot so get ready.

Domination: He's on top. 96.7% of the time, but he doesn't mind a brat, however it is extremely hard to wrestle control from him, but by all means keep trying. He finds your attempts endearing.

Choking: He loves your neck, so his hand often finds purchase there. And all the better to hold you in place.

Spanking: Bend over the table. Now pet, don't make him ask twice. You have to be punished. Crewel has an extensive collection of paddles and whips stored neat next to each in a drawer in his closet.

Bondage: He likes to tie you up and restrain you. Not everyday and nothing too immobilizing. Crewel some nice fur lined cuffs for you, but he often finds the products on the market a tad tacky, so he names his own just for you. Leather spreader bars, custom gags, only the best for his lover.

Car Sex: Why own so many beautiful cars if not to rail you in back of one. Early into the relationship you learn Crewel loves a road trip, now you know why.

L = Location  (favorite places to do the do)

Literally anywhere that doesn't hugely risk your positions. He'd fuck you in an alley if he was 85% certain you wouldn't get caught.

In your shared home everywhere is fair game, but the bedroom will always be top spot.

M = Motivation  (what turns them on, gets them going)

You love and admiration. Demonstrate your attraction to him and shower him in compliments and Crewel will just be dying to ravish you.

Well that and dress pretty for him, something age appropriate sleek. Show off your legs and back. Supple exposed flesh makes him want to pounce.

N = No  (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No pictures please. He's a Professor and consummate professional. He would be horrified if such debauchery were to get into the wrong hands.

Also he's not as in to pet play as people think, bondage absolutely. But Crewel treats his student like dogs because they require discipline, for his partner and his equal such degrading language seems unkind.

If you were into it Crewel could be swayed but if you show no interest he has no interest in treating you like a pet. He has actual dogs.

O = Oral  (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Lovesssss receving, but is getting better about giving. Has a special chair for you to give him head. A black sleek leather chair where he can rest his wine or whiskey on the arm while he tangles his other hand in your hair. And once you finish him off, hell flip the positions around and tend to you. He’s a big fan of eating you from the back while this hand secures your wrists on your back. That way it still feels like he has you submission.

P = Pace  (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Tender and deep, he wants to feel as much of you as possible. He’s controlled in his movements and famously a crowd pleaser he knows how to give the people what they want.

Q = Quickie  (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Any type of sex is good sex to Crewel as long as you are both enthusiastic participants. Of course he prefers a long drawn out session, but he seldom has the time.

A quick romp in the morning or in the private bathroom at school are all acceptable to him.

R = Risk  (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

If you think Crewel isn't going to ask for head in the alchemy workshop then you've overestimated him. He is a man afterall.

S = Stamina  (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Lasts are long as you want him to, he has really tight control over his arousal.

T = Toys  (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Good pets deserve toys for good behavior. So say you've been good, Crewel will reward you with a vibrating butt plug. Don't spurn his gift or you'll get a spanking.

He's not opposed to toys on himself. If you get him a suitably sophisticated cock ring he supposes he can try it out for you.

U = Unfair  (how much they like to tease)

99/10 it’s his favorite pastime. Edging you to oblivion, making you beg for it. Ruining your orgasm when you’ve been really naughty. Crewel can’t help but tease.

He’ll humour your attempts to tease him back but he’s quick to put you back in your place. There he let you have your fun, now beg for him.

V = Volume  (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Very sexy grunting, and raspy moans.

W = Wild card  (a random headcanon for the character)

Gets super aroused when dressing you. And I’m not talking picking out clothes. Rolling your tights up your thighs, zipping up your dress, or buttoning your shirt. Putting your heels on. All of it turns him on that he wants to undress you.

Overall he’s a big fan of sex in clothes, only the necessary bits exposed.

X = X-ray  (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long, but we knew that. About 8.5 inches, and thicker than you'd think it should be, but it’s just right at about 6.5 inches in girth.

Y = Yearning  (how high is their sex drive?)

High, a little something everyday is his preference, but he's realistic about it, as long as you aren't offended by him masturbating if you're not in the mood.

Z = Zzz  (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He usually stays up for a little, he aims to be asleep by midnight so he might cuddle you and read over some lab reports, new alchemy journals or catalogues from his former employer.

However if you're awake he'd like a second round, if you're up to it.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Tears to Shed

This is based on Tears to Shed from the Corpse Bride. Where Alastor accidentally marries the reader. The only problem is Alastor doesn't want to marry anyone. TW: Angst, Hurt, Sorrow, Illusions to Suicide but you can't die in hell unless it's angelic steel; Alastor is well Alastor, Mimzy is Alastors partner in this. <I am open to writing a part 2 if yall like this> @willowaudreykeyes helped me edit!

The day Alastor slipped the ring onto your finger seemed to shake the whole world with the weight of fated lovers. He was a striking figure, with caramel skin glinting beneath the sun, eyes alight, and a vigorous appetite for power and immortality. But beneath the surface, a shadow lingered: his heart was not free but tied to Mimzy, that star of the city, resplendent with the possibilities of influence and status among humans.

But in that very moment, as your eyes caught the gleam of the ring, you could almost think he chose you. You were, after all, wearing his ring, and he had said those vows with such passion as if some unseen force bound your destinies. 

But then time unraveled, and the truth trickled in like a cold, silent mist: Alastor wanted neither you nor Mimzy. He wanted to be free and live a life unencumbered by chains called commitment. He wanted power and to be feared above all others in his realm.

You had been heartbroken, perched up on the roof of a falling building in Hell, looking out at the fire spreading to the horizon. Never a fan of red and black, you'd always enjoyed blue and silver. The licks of flames danced like lost souls, taunting your self-worth.

You did, indeed, feel the gravity of your life in that moment-the corpse bride, once a loving beauty, now a demon cloaked by yearning and solitude: Alastor had brought one spark of hope into your heart only to cast it down into the dark. The pain of betrayal and the weight of your new existence as a demon were crushing you, threatening to consume the last remnants of your humanity.

You remembered that cold, starless night when he slid the ring onto your finger. For the beat of a moment, you were complete, while today, you are the broken pieces of what you once were: a beautiful woman full of life and a longing to be loved. But now, the truth stared you in the face: he was trapped, and you were the specter haunting his every step, it would appear.

You'd found Alastor begging for Mimzy's help only hours before. The scene had played like an echo in your mind, a foreign sound that twisted your insides. You'd seen it in his eyes, heard it in the shake of his voice. Beneath the bluster of a power-hungry fool, he was just a man desperate to be free of the tethers of a promise he had never wanted to make. And you, you were the one who had been used as a pawn in their twisted game of power and love.

As the reality fell in your heart like ashes, your friends emerged from the shadows: Nero, the imp, and Arianna, the succubus. Their loyalty to you puts a soothing wave over your spirit of fire and ice. They pressed themselves against your sides, the heat from their bodies contrasting with the chill of your skin and the despair that began to wrap around you as time passed.

They stared at the scene before you, knowing this was their doing. Had they not encouraged you to keep Alastor in your life, to guide and mentor you in a fantasy of mortals and demons in love, you wouldn't be like this on the brink of unleashing your powers on all of Hell once again, just as you had on the day you had died.

"What does that wispy little brat have that you don't have double?" Nero's voice was soft yet managed to cut through the fog in your brain. The gentle touch of his hand to yours was akin to a lifeline for a moment.

Arianna leaned in, her eyes aglow with wild affection. "She can't hold a candle to the beauty of your smile!" she said, in words that were an attempt at stitching the pieces of your heart together.

"Yeah, how about a pulse?" You snorted, the venom of bitterness thick in your voice as you stared at the fiery scene below your chosen hideout. You just felt like an antique compared with the sweet Mimzy.

"Overrated by a mile!" Nero chipped in, his voice light yet grave, as he sat by your side with a mutual understanding of the pain you are experiencing.

"Overfed!" Arianna cut in with a snort, her tail flicking in outrage.

"Overblown!" Nero exclaimed, with echoes of laughter resounding around the darkening space. Then he turned to Arianna, who nodded with full vigor. For a moment, their eyes shone with playfulness as they looked at you, hope alighting in their pupils.

"If he only knew the you that we know," they chorused in unison, gripping your hands tight. Their faces held pride with a touch of pain, but they held steady on one thing: their unity in support of you.

Arianna played with the ring on your left hand, smirking with mischief and love. "And the little silly creature isn't wearing his ring!"

Nero playfully elbowed you. "And she doesn't play piano!"

"Or dance or sing! No, she doesn't compare!" they chortled, their voices rising like some haunting melody.

But the shadows of doubt clung to you like a second skin. "But she still breathes air," you muttered; the weight of your reality fell again.

"Who cares?" they chorused, still enthusiastic, though you knew they were growing tired of your self-doubt.

"Unimportant!" Nero insisted, scrambling onto your shoulder, his small frame reassuring.

“Overblown!" Arianna echoed with whimsical reassurance, wrapping her tail gently around your arm.

"If only he could see how special you can be. If only he knew you that we know," they said in one accord, a mantra to which you were no longer sure you believed.

You stood, peeling yourself gently from the tangle of friends. Your undead eyes threatened to spill over with tears as you swayed on the precipice of despair, humming a mournful tune. Closer to the edge of the building you sat atop, the seductive allure of the fall whispered promises of nothing, for you could not die here.

"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain. If you cut me with a knife, it's still the same." You flourish the blade hidden in your garter, the cold steel calling to your mind your immortality. The use of it on Alastor flashed across your mind a spark of the most dangerous kind. You chase the thought away, turning back to your lament. The struggle between your desire for revenge and your lingering love for Alastor was tearing you apart, threatening to push you over the edge of sanity.

"And I know her heart is beating, and I know that I am dead. Yet the pain here that I feel, please try and tell me it's not real." You turned your gaze to your friends, their faces dimly lit by the firey light of hell, then fell back from the rooftop, landing softly within a coffin overflowing with blue and silver roses, the delicate petals wrapping you in a sorrow growing only larger by the minute.

"And yet, it would seem I still have a tear to shed." Your eyes, no longer shining bright, now blazed with the bitter salt of lost love, lost on the one with whom you had believed you shared. Yet time was a thief and saved little space for sorrow. Nero and Arianna were already down to your level, their eyes afire with determination in jarring contrast with the despair flooding your heart.

Nero was first to huddle beside you, his face lined with concern and encouragement. "The only redeeming feature of that little creature is that she's alive!"

Arianna joined him, her cheeks flushed from the hurried descent. "Yeah, it's overrated!" she chimed in, light in tone but weighted with the depth of unsaid meaning.

Nero nodded vigorously, nudging you gently as he gestured to the world beyond. "Yeah, even overblown!"

Arianna smirked, crossing her arms in a very defiant pose, even going so far as to tilt her chin upward in some kind of dare for you to say otherwise. "Everybody knows that’s just a temporary state, which is cured very quickly when we meet our fate!"

Nero's grin widened as he helped you sit up, your surroundings—a darkened alleyway—looming on like some sort of forgotten lover's heart. "Who cares?

Arianna wrapped her arm around your waist, the touch grounding and warm. "Unimportant!" she insisted, dismissing the weight of your sorrow with a wave of her hand.

Nero tugged your good hand with newly formed determination, pulling you toward the busy streets, back into the folds of society. "Overrated!"

Arianna toyed with your hair before flashing a mischievous wink over the mask of worried tension she knew was building the more they danced around your feelings. "Overblown!"

The pair sparkled brightly as they laughed-a stark difference amidst the cowering crowds shrinking away from you, the infamous Corpse Bride, the dainty specter who wielded more souls than damn near Lucifer himself.

"If only he could see how special you could be, if only he knew you, that we know!" Their words of encouragement merely cut through your heart like daggers.

You merely shook your head, a deepening frown as the shadows danced in your eyes, before pulling away and meandering to drift across the streets. A melancholy tune tumbled from your lips as those who'd dare to follow quickly began to wither into roses of silver and blue, scattered remnants of what once was. As you approached the next street, your lament started again, an echoing whisper.

"If I touch a burning candle, I can feel no pain; in the ice or in the sun, it's all the same." You breezed by a café with candles on its tables casting their golden light into the night air, and without even batting an eyelash, you blew them out, embracing the darkness like an old friend.

Your eyes closed, knowing, sans sight, that you were the most significant threat this Hellscape had ever known. Your heart clutched, and your sorrow blossomed into a dark storm that sent those who knew your power scurrying back into the shadows, fear etched upon their faces.

"Yet I feel my heart is aching; though it doesn't beat, it's breaking, and the pain here that I feel, please, try and tell me it's not real." As your eyes fluttered open, the street transformed before you: what once was vibrant red and black now lay cloaked in shades of blue and silver- your wailing, weaving a tapestry of despair, draped over the once bustling scenery.

"I know that I'm dead, yet it seems that I still have some tears to shed." Your voice was barely heard, and there was a broken murmur as you made your way to your house. The chill of the stone outside was like the weight of your grief. Climbing the stairs with sluggish motions, you sat at your piano bench and stared onto the keys, the swell of your sorrow deep.

Nero and Arianna watched you, their faces heavy with what was not said, too much pain entering them as it had the rest of hell when you started your lament. They knew all too well that you only called upon your full banshee powers when the weight of despair bore too much, even that they could not fix it.

You laid your fingers against the keys, and the weight of silence fell. You pressed a key, and the note sang out to resound as one deep ache in your soul, for Alastor would go back to the world of the living, leave you for another, and leave you a shadow.

The sob, so fragile yet mighty, ripped itself free from your lips and unleashed a storm into the very pits of hell. Your wail pierced the night, a chorus of anguish, seeing as you were Y/N, the Corpse Bride, or better yet, a banshee of ill fate, rivaling the voice of Lilith herself.

The roses that danced around your abode shook with solemn trembles at the harmonization of keys to a requiem of lost love. And you, still lost between the planes of life and death, celebrated being the Harbinger of Sorrow.

[chasedeys]

Oh thank you for that thorough response!! Are there any other Joemarr lore moments I should know about as a new fan? Any sources you recommend I look through?

oh sure no problem!!! 🥰🫶 not that thorough really akdjfjfk BUT yeah pretty crazy articles to drop lmao

um not to like self-promote (???? is it) lmao but may i direct you to my first ever insane ass long answer to an innocent joemarr ask of my fav joemarr moment that definitely need to be updated with the 2024 season 😮‍💨 you can definitely scroll through my joemarr meta tag too which is like where i store all my bullshit joemarr long answers! you can skip reading the long-winded analysis if you’d rather like form your own thoughts on them but there are dozens of linked moments there you can scroll through so i’d recommend that for sure 😊 oh and maybe my fav tag too! not necessarily joemarr but i usually keep my fav posts there that really catch my interest!

and heavilyyyyyy recommend scrolling through @cementcornfield's joemarr (joe’marr) tag toooo she says her organization's a mess but ive literally learned all there is about joemarr the first few weeks through her blog so 😔🫶 a staple tbh lol and you can branch out all the other blogs that post bengals content too!! soooo many now really it’s kind of wild i can’t keep up at times 😭 here is her post on it if you'd like to see more recommended blogs!

oh and some essential lore mention!! lets see several big ass mentions um

the clothes saga and the entire post-sb loss coaxing out of bed for like a vegas date maybe

kc game shove

lakers date

their pinky shake

lsu natty game ball and ja’marrs bratty ass bragging of it

joe wearing ja'marr's game-worn jersey (top 3 moments btw)

the refusal to play without each other

the ufc fights

that’s my qb not theirs (yeah...)

them being neighborssssss this is truly insane read through carmen's tags no really it’ll drive you insane. what the fuck. no really the fuck.

the whole article is kind of crazy but like the boat thing in particular. 'we did a lot but not on a boat'. okay ja'marr. it also birthed my favorite delusional babble of like. ja’marr choosing to stay in ohio for joe in the future but not being sure of verbalizing it.

DONUT INCIDENTTT with a little handsy moment beforehand (so many angles of the donut incident i cannot possibly link them all sorry)

oh this helmet slam celly vs this helmet slam celly when you take in account how these were their first long touchdowns since joe's wrist injury and like compare it to their first nfl touchdown celly Thoughts truly Thoughtssssssssss 😮‍💨 (the first td celly loooook at joe grippinggg at his waistttt holy shittttttt)

joe on ja'marr's rookie preseason drops (the first link is another angle and longer clip of the first td celly btw where you can see joe finally pushing ja'marr away god the fuck is wrong with them i adore that clip truly top 10 moments and alsoooo the presser with the pinky shake of all times as a fuck you to all those reporters and haters top 5 pinky shakes moment btw)

the lsu staring saga

the lsu warm skin recount

joe's first griddy where their account was nearly the same word for word and ja’marr was severely biased and joe was all ‘i just saw you and i got to’ okay.....

also id link like the whole qb1 pat who thing but i cant be assed to search chiefs anything anywhere else rn sorry 😭 but ja'marr's thing with the chiefs is honestly ripe with joemarr and like joe as his qb1 etc etc

etc etccccccc im sure im missing a lot lmao but like. truly if you do a deep dive of their lore it's crazy they've got 6-7 years of this shit (real quote btw: ja'marr has said so. i've been with him what. 6-7 years? i've lost count.) so like. if you have the time and vigorous enough obsession you can definitely catch up with their entire thing 😔🤚 i wish you the best lol.

anyways hope you enjoy scrolling watching reading through all these moments!! (if anyone else wants to rb and add moments go right aheaddd btwwww please do!!)

[blushk1tten]

slut! ꨄ minors dni

— nsfw: schlatt x afab reader, self degradation, praise kink —

slut, whore, clout chaser, dick rider. since publicly revealing your relationship with schlatt, you had heard it all from the internet. for the most part though, you were able to brush it off. after all, you knew the truth and so did schlatt. you loved him endlessly, regardless of his platform. however, for some reason, the hate comments were bothering you today.

the streamer awards had been the previous night, and you had finally convinced schlatt to go in person. so, the two of you had flown to LA, gotten dressed up in your finest gala wear, and had a fantastic time with your friends. to commemorate the night, you had posted some pictures on your instagram. the final picture you posted was of you and schlatt dancing at the afterparty, a bright smile on both of your faces.

while there were positive comments, especially from your friends, the comments from the fans were skewing negative today. some were the usual insults, but others were just plain vile. it made your stomach churn just to read them. worst of all though, it made you doubt yourself and your relationship. were you just tricking yourself into thinking that you weren’t a clout chasing slut?

by the time schlatt returned to the hotel room with the takeout you had ordered, you were curled up on the bed in tears. once he realized what was happening, he quickly put aside the food and climbed in bed with you, pulling you close to his chest.

"what's wrong, baby? 's everything okay?"

you shook your head, pulling away from him. it stung your heart to see the shocked and slightly hurt look on his face. "how can you be with me? how do you know i'm not just with you for fame? that i'm not some clout chasing slut?"

schlatt's face softened at that, realizing what was happening now. he began to gently rub up and down your arms, trying to soothe you. "you're not a clout chasing slut. anyone who said that obviously doesn't know you the way i do. fuck, i had to beg you t' come on my channel and reveal our relationship."

that was true. you had been so scared of this exact thing happening that you refused to reveal your relationship for over a year. still, you could feel that bit of insecurity still nipping at your insides. "how do you know i didn't trick you?"

"because you're a bad liar," he teased gently, finally pulling you back in and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "you're nothin' that any of those comments say, and if it's okay, i'd like t' prove that t' you."

you thought about it for a moment, then nodded. you needed schlatt right now, pressing you carefully into the bed and showering you in kisses as he made love to you.

with your consent, schlatt began to do exactly that. he carefully removed your clothes, all while pressing kisses to your bare skin. every kiss made you feel loved and revered. quiet whimpers began to escape your lips, making him smile and come up to finally press a kiss to them. "there's my baby. love you so much, doll."

schlatt's clothes came off next, before he slunk down your body and began to press soft, open mouth kisses to your clit and entrance. you couldn't help but gasp and reach out for his hand, clasping it in yours as he dove in more vigorously, making sure to get you nice and wet. it didn't take long for your hand to squeeze his, back arching up and gasping as you reached your first climax.

"shit, baby," schlatt groaned as he climbed back on top of you and leaned in to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. "you always taste so fuckin' good. you always are so fuckin' good. lemme take care of you."

all it took was another nod from you for schlatt to push in, tangling his hand in yours once again as he began to move. he kept his thrusts slow but firm, making sure to find that spot in you that sent sparks up your spine, "you're so perfect, doll," he murmured softly, leaning in to kiss you briefly and swallowing your tiny gasps. "like an angel. lemme hear you say it. want you to say how perfect you are."

as schlatt squeezed your hand, and you felt his nose brushing gently against yours with every thrust, you couldn't help but give in. "'m perfect. 'm your baby, your doll, your angel."

he gave you another kiss, groaning as he began to speed up. "that's my girl. now c'mon, i wanna make you feel good."

it didn’t take much longer for you to cum, clenching around his cock as he came inside of you and whispered sweet phrases in your ear.

"there you go, shit, that's my angel. you look so beautiful, doll. just keep on milkin' my cock."

afterwards, when you were both cleaned up and lying in the afterglow, you couldn't help but think back to the comments again. this time though, you had a different take. if this is how revered schlatt made you feel all the time, maybe it was worth being a so called slut.