#within recognizable reason!

[fluentisonus]

really funny when musical productions make javert sound really posh. he would not sound like that <3

[aviawrites]

wait for me (sinners)

!s: smoke x female!oc

summary: Rue has worked for years to forget Elijah Moore and what he left her with before he ran to Chicago. But when she sees his ambitious twin in the square, all of their history comes rushing back. (3.1k)

a/n: it has been so long, but Sinners is truly a movie in its own category. i also need to preface that i am black for this story. anyway, as always, ur interaction is greatly appreciated, ily<3

warnings: swearing, n word use (by smoke and stack), mentions of child loss, abortion, sex, racism

in this story, our characters name is: Rue

Elijah Moore and I never had a complicated relationship. Hell, Smoke might even say we had none at all. But for years after he ravaged me in that car outside of the bar, I thought about him every night. We were together, I’d say — Boyfriend and girlfriend for as long as his grief consumed him. But the moment Annie found out, Smoke disappeared from my arms and was at her feet, begging for forgiveness. I don’t blame her, not in the slightest — I can only imagine that those were some of their darkest times.

Elias, on the other hand, him and I had a complicated relationship. When I found out that Smoke left a piece of himself in me, there was no way I could tell him, not after what he’d just been through. So I went to the closest thing to him, Stack. And although what we had is never to be considered romantic, there was something there — Familial, even. He knew it, Mary knew it, and for that very reason I was never allowed within an 100 foot radius of the twins until the day they left, not if I wanted to feel welcome.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

📍 Train Station || 12:00pm

The feelings from all those years ago bubble up inside me and form a twist in my gut when I see that all-too-recognizable burgundy top hat. My feet move before my mind can stop them, and in no time I’m approaching my old friend.

Stack flashes a gold toothed smile. “I’ll be damned.”

I return the nicety, pulling him in for a warm hug.

“Word spreads fast,” I nod. “Y’all still got the same appeal you had all them years ago.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, darling. I know it.” His cocky smile takes me back, the only thing differentiating him from his brother being his energy.

“Do I even want to know why you came back?”

“You heard it as good as I did." He gestures toward little Preacher Boy and the old man. “We’re opening a Juke Joint tonight, right there down at the old mill.”

“Y’all never could stay still. Chicago wasn’t change enough for you?”

He shrugs. “Figured we should deal with a devil we know. Besides, we miss the tricking.”

“Mmm,” I hum. “Well if Miss Pearline back there is singing, I might just pay this Joint a visit.”

Stack looks past me and at the polka dottted woman walking away from Preacher Boy. 

“Shit, if that’s what it takes for you to come, it’s done.”

Always so charming.

He ogles me, his eyes scanning up and down my exposed arms.

“What’s this?” Stack rubs his fingers over the dark ink lining my skin — Art ranging from numbers to symbols to simple symmetric images. 

“You know I’m an artist, boy.” I pull my arm back, scoffing. “Figured I’d get a few permanent ones to remember a few things.”

“And you talking about we couldn’t stay still. I’ll be visiting to get a look at those paintings of yours one of these days.” Stack’s grin begins to fade as he looks over my shoulder. 

Preacher Boy walks up and nears his cousin. “This white woman’s been staring at you—“

“Yea, I see her…”

He shoos Sammie away and tries to walk me off, but I’m already well aware of what shark is in the water — I can hear her heels clicking behind me.

“Now is this Smoke? Or is that Stack?”

I turn my head. “Hi, Mary.”

No response. Only a rough shoulder check as she stands in front of me and nears Stack.

He looks over her head and at me. “I’ll holler at you, Rue—“

Mary interrupts. “No, you’re not talking to fucking Rue right now. You’re talking to me.”

Stack huffs, looking back down at the woman dressed in pink. I give him a ‘have fun dealing with that’ look before turning and catching my train. 

Of all the women wrapped around the twins’ fingers, Mary has got to be the most spiteful of them all. For no good reason, though. Contrary to her belief, I never once slept with Stack, never even thought of it. But as far as she knows, I kissed him all the way to where the sun don’t shine, and then some.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

📍 Juke Joint || 10:00pm

This old mill has lit up under the construction of the twins. People hoot and holler as Pearline ignites the stage, turning into the musical beast I knew she would the minute she started singing. Having no dance partner, I simply clap along, moving my body to the beat alone. Out of the corner of my eye, I see the same damn burgundy hat that I saw only hours ago.

I can feel Annie’s eyes burning holes into my skull as I sit at the bar, Stack walking up to me.

“Now who the hell did y’all rob to afford this place? Ain’t this being sold from the Klan?” I shout across the bar, my voice being drowned out by Pearline’s Pale, Pale Moon.

Stack shakes his head. “Not Klan, just crackers. You know we got money, girl. Don’t do that.”

“Yea, well blood money don’t count. So how much you got now?”

He pulls his pockets inside out, amusing me.

I chuckle, placing my money on the bar. “Y’all have blackberry bourbon smash?”

“I don’t know if I can do that for you…” 

His fake frown quickly turns into a grin as he takes the money, relaying my order to Grace.

“Fancy motherfuckers,” I mumble.

“What was that?” Stack eggs me on.

My eyes scan the bar, but all I can focus on is that hateful scowl on Annie’s face.

“I said all these women hate me.” 

Stack scoffs. “Only those particular women.”

That’s more than enough for me I think.

He leans in, his lips grazing my ear.

“You know none of these girls got shit on you, Rue. They ain’t half as strong either.”

A small smile grows on my face, matching Stacks. He goes to hand me back my cash, but I slide it back to him.

“I don’t need it,” I front.

“Yea? Well me neither. So you gon’ fucking take it.”

I roll my eyes, pocketing the change and standing with my drink. I’ve barely made it away from the bar when cigarette smoke cascades from over my head. Instinctively looking up, I finally see him. 

Smoke stares down at me from the balcony with that hard expression he always wears. It’s so strange, seeing that rock solid glare. When we first met in a dingy bar on the side of a dirt Mississippi road, he hung his head low and seemed to always have glossy eyes. I didn’t believe him when he told me he was Smoke. When he fucked me that night, and many a nights after that, it was slowly — With passion, and often tears followed the act. But now his eyes are as dry as a dessert and they pierce a hole through mine. 

He takes another blow of his cigarette before turning his back to me, retreating into a room. I have no choice but to follow him, even if it’s just to get yelled at to go away as he did the last time we met. I take my time, downing my glass of bourbon as I walk up the stairs. I can’t pinpoint exactly why, but my heart thumps in my chest just before I open the door, all of the thoughts of what we could’ve had rushing back to my mind like they did eight years ago.

I enter the dimly lit room, closing the door behind me and leaning on it.

“Hi, Smoke,” I say lowly, unable to read his face.

“Why you here, Rue?” he grumbles, a roughness to his voice. “I’m already stressed the fuck out with this opening shit. Stack ain’t helping.”

“I don’t want no trouble. Just came for the music.”

“You being here is plenty trouble enough.” He scans my body the same as his brother, blowing his cigarette again. “You can’t find music no place else?”

“You want me to leave?” I ask honestly.

“Yea, I want you to leave. You think those women down there want you to leave too or are we acting stupid tonight?”

“They never even tried to like me, Smoke,” I sigh, my legs bringing me closer to him. I place my hand on his bicep, like I did all those years ago. “They got no idea what we had.”

He puts his hand on mine, pulling it off. “That was a moment of weakness, Rue. Whatever you think we had is gone now." 

I blink to avoid tears from forming. My first ever love, my first ever relationship being chalked up to a moment of weakness chips away at my heart. If it’s what he has to tell himself to dig out of the deep guilt he feels, so be it. But he won’t sit in front of me and act like what we had wasn’t real — Like it isn’t still there.

“So you're saying if the Juke was going good and Annie wasn't watching you like a hawk that you wouldn't entertain me? Wouldn’t consider us?"

Smoke shakes his head. “No, I really wouldn’t.” His brows furrow as he looks at me, seeming to remember a detail that he had previously forgotten. “And your cheating ass can take your business elsewhere.”

I can’t act surprised, not anymore. We allowed him to believe my infidelity as truth, Stack and I. Letting him think I went after his brother was easier than letting him know what Stack was really helping me do…At least it was in the moment. But as he stands in front of me now, I want nothing more than to ease his pain, calm his anger, and tell him the truth — Even if solely to stop him from loathing me so greatly.

“I didn’t cheat on you, Smoke.”

“Bullshit,” he stops me. 

“No, listen.” I step toward him. “I respected what you and Annie had, Smoke. I really did. And I understood that the loss of your baby caused you to make decisions that you might regret, even if that decision was being with me. So when you told me to leave you alone, I did. But I didn’t know if that still stood when I found out that we had a baby…”

The words feel odd coming out of my mouth. I tried so hard at the time to disconnect myself from it, calling the baby a thing inside my stomach rather than what it was: Mine and Smoke’s child.

His brows have smoothened out now and he’s actively listening, his eyes flashing from my face to my stomach and back to my face.

I continue. “I didn’t visit Stack all those nights to get at him. Smoke, I never wanted anybody but you. But God put it on my heart to give you and Annie peace, so we went at it alone. No one knew. He paid a few women to make the drink without telling them who it was for. It only took a few hours for the bleeding to start…”

My voice trails out. I’m unable to finish as flashbacks to that night replay in my head. My mama held me tighter that night than she ever had before…I hated Smoke that night more than I ever had before.

Tears line his eyes now.

He chokes on his words, his voice now much lower. “Don’t you lie to me, Rue…” 

“I wouldn’t lie, baby,” I assure him.

I hold my arm out for him, revealing the tiny footprint tattooed on my wrist, a small E underneath it. 

“We couldn’t be sure, but I had a feeling it was a boy. Ezra, I was thinking. Stack hated the name but…” I shrug. 

Smoke runs his thumb over the tattoo, holding my hand in his. He attempts to discreetly wipe his tears, but I see them all the same. Looking up at him, his face can only be compared to the face he made when we spoke about his late baby, which wasn’t often at all. A mix of anger, sorrow, and fear. 

Perhaps he’s considering what could have been, just like I used to — Just like I still do. I used to curse God for putting me in such a position. A second chance for Smoke to be a father, but at the worst of times. I’d have dreams of talking to a clone of myself, telling her that she owed it to Smoke to tell him about the baby. It’s only now that I really see the consequences of my decision.

Smoke looks at me, and then at the door. It’s as if a switch has flipped and he’s forced all of those emotions to turn into one…anger. He reaches for the door, but I lean against it.

“Smoke, it’s already done,” I tell him, holding my hand against his chest. “I just couldn’t take you hating me no more.”

“Move out the way, Rue,” he says, not hearing a word I say.

“I don’t want to cause a scene. Please.”

“You think I give a fuck about causing a scene? Move out of the fucking way.”

“Smoke, it hurts enough as it is—“

“You’ve got one more time, woman.”

“There’s nothing we can do now!”

He wraps a hand around my arm, yanking me just enough to pull me away from the door and swinging it open. I run out behind him, but he’s already looking down the overlook.

“STACK!” he shouts down, the name echoing through the building. 

Everybody looks up, including Mary and Annie. Stack stares up at us, blowing smoke through his nose, before turning back to the crowd. He tells them to resume, nudging Sammie to keep playing. After a moment of silence and a few stray whispers, the music begins again and Pearline starts her singing. Mary holds Stack close, asking him not to go — But as always, the twins do what they want when they want. As Stack rounds the corner, I retreat back into the room, unprepared for what reaction he might have.

He’s barely entered before Smoke pins him against the wall, his forearm over Stack’s chest.

“The fuck?”

“Is it true?” Smoke demands, maintaning his cig in his pinning hand.

I close the door, shouting over the music. “Smoke, stop!”

He ignores me, continuing to press his brother. “Un-uh, I asked you a question, nigga. Did you know she had my baby?”

Stack’s eyes shoot from Smoke to me. I can only nod, giving him permission to tell the full truth as I just did. Stack relaxes, putting his hands up.

“I only did it to protect you, mane.”

“The fuck does that mean?”

“You gon’ let me go so I can explain?” 

Smoke lingers before reluctantly letting his brother go with a shove. He puts a hand in his pocket, staring Stack down.

He gestures his cig at his brother. “Talk.” 

Stack smoothens his suit, lighting one of his own. “You know I don’t like that shit, Smoke—”

“Talk.”

He sighs, putting on a smile once more as he tries to explain calmly. 

“When y’all two broke shit off we didn't know we were even going to Chicago, Smoke. Shit, I still thought you and Annie were gonna get married and buy you a house. Rue said you told her to stay away to make that happen, so I helped her stay away. Now we both know she’d never forgive you if you had a baby with another woman.”

“But my baby is none of your fucking business.”

“I was trying to give you a life, nigga,” Stack urges. “Annie is where that life was at. Fuck I look like throwing Rue back at you when you didn’t want her?”

“My baby, Stack.”

Guilt boils inside of me. I never allowed myself to entertain the idea of keeping the baby. There was no way I’d bring him into this world without a father, and Smoke had Annie, so I thought I had no choice. But seeing him blink back his tears now makes me second guess every moment that the baby was inside of me.

Stack thinks carefully about his next words, his smile having faded as he sees how serious his brother is taking this.

“I’m sorry, man,” he shrugs, his tone softer now. “I did what I thought was safest for all y'all, you hear me?” 

Smoke is about to speak when a hard knock pounds the door. 

“Stack?” Mary’s familiar voice rings out from the other side.

“Now I gotta get back to the Joint.”

I hold my head low. “Bye, Stack.”

He heads toward the door, but not before turning to his brother one more time.

“We good?”

Smoke looks from me to Stack, giving him a small nod.

“Get out of here ‘fore I say no.”

Stack only smiles, swinging the door open. I stand beside him, greeting Mary.

“Oh my— Not this trifling bitch again, Stack.” She rolls her eyes.

“Come on. Lay off, Mary.”

“I think you owe her a goddamn apology,” Smoke intervenes, standing behind me.

I mumble, “it’s fine, Smoke.”

Mary scoffs. “For the fuck what?”

“For how you been treating her all these years.”

“How I’ve been treating her? You’re the one who fucked her for a month before running back to Annie.”

“You best watch your mouth, Mary.” He blows smoke toward her. “It’s not too late to pay one of them bitches downstairs to drag your ass out.”

“I’d like to see you try, Smoke—“

“Alright,” Stack interrupts. “Let’s go.” 

He pushes Mary away before closing the door behind him. I assume my previous position, leaning against the door — a much thicker tension in the air now.

“If you hate me even more after this, I understand.” I break the silence. “I don’t blame you. I just couldn’t let the truth belong to me and him alone anymore.”

Smoke stares at his feet, deep in thought. It’s become increasingly harder to tell what this man is thinking. He drops his cigarette, stepping on it.

“Now why would you do that on these new floors-“

His lips are on mine before I can finish, his hungry hands pulling up my dress. It’s automatic, the way my arm wraps around his neck, my hand nearing his crotch. He begins kissing down my neck, but I pull away. He stares at me, eyes wide.

“This isn’t a moment of weakness, is it?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I don’t need a moment of weakness to do what I’m about to do to you.”

I smile, bringing his lips to mine once more. 

Annie will hate me if she finds out, she might hate Smoke even more. But like I told him before, she has no idea what we have. And if I want to fuck my sinner one last time in this Juke Joint, that’s exactly what I’ll do. 

[ao3org]

On Your Left! — Changes to Captain America Fandom Tags

Hello! In the near future, Marvel tag wranglers will be updating fandom tags on AO3 to separate the upcoming Captain America movies featuring Sam Wilson as Captain America from the trilogy of films with Steve Rogers as Captain America.

To do this, we will be renaming the fandom Captain America (Movies) to Captain America (Chris Evans Movies) and creating a new fandom named Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies). Both will be made subtags of Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types.

In summary:

Captain America (Chris Evans Movies) will refer to the 2011, 2014, and 2016 movies featuring Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter, and Bucky Barnes. 

Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) will refer to the 2025 movie Brave New World featuring Sam Wilson and Joaquín Torres. This fandom tag will also refer to any sequel Captain America movies starring Sam Wilson in the title role.

Fans interested in reading about both movie series can include both Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types in tag filtering. The current fandom tag for The Falcon and the Winter Soldier (TV), which is a subtag of Marvel Cinematic Universe but not Captain America - All Media Types, will also be unaffected by these changes. We’ve included more details of our reasoning below, which better explains why we’re making this change.

Why are you making two separate fandom tags? Can’t everyone just keep using “Captain America (Movies)”?

Despite both having the superhero name “Captain America” and the same continuity, fundamentally the main character has changed between the original trilogy and the new 2025 movie. We also wanted to hopefully make it easier for fans to differentiate between which movies and continuities they’re discussing. Many Sam Wilson fans will likely want to filter for the movie where he’s the central focus; conversely, many Steve Rogers fans will likely want to filter out movies where he doesn’t appear. 

We’re specifically using “Chris Evans” and “Anthony Mackie” in the fandom tags as they’re the most recognizable and consistent aspect of the movies. There’s no consistent set of directors between all Chris Evans Captain America movies, and actor names are much more recognizable than including multiple years in the fandom tags. This style of making fandom tags named after actors is similar to other fandoms on AO3. For example, there are many James Bond movie fandom tags which differentiate via the actors’ names. 

The Marvel Cinematic Universe is also not the only time Captain America has been adapted to the big screen: there’s a 1944 movie starring Dick Purnell, a 1979 movie starring Reb Brown, and a 1990 movie starring Mat Salinger. The current fandom tag Captain America (Movies) is worded in a way that technically encompasses these unrelated movies as well. It doesn’t make sense for these unrelated continuities to share one fandom tag, so we would have changed the existing Captain America (Movies) tag to be more specific regardless of the release of Brave New World. 

Like we mentioned above, fans interested in reading about both MCU movie series at once can filter for both Marvel Cinematic Universe and Captain America - All Media Types.

Why Mackie Movies instead of Brave New World?

The movie title has already changed several times in between promotion and release. It’s also highly likely Marvel will make sequel movies. Formatting the tag as Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) prevents the disruption of renaming the fandom tag in the future. 

We will be creating an Additional Tag for Captain America: Brave New World, similar to how there are Additional Tags for Movie: Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) and Movie: Spider-Man: No Way Home (2021). We hope the Additional Tag will help fans filter for specific movies within the broader series of movies.

Why does Brave New World get a separate fandom tag while First Avenger, Winter Soldier, and Civil War would still share? 

Captain America: The First Avenger, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, and Captain America: Civil War all encompass the trilogy centering around Steve Rogers. While Captain America: Brave New World is also set in the same continuity, the main character and actor has changed, and the role of Sam Wilson has changed from being a supporting character to the main focus.

It’s likely that Marvel will release sequel movies to Brave New World, which will not receive separate fandom tags and would instead also be covered by the new Captain America (Anthony Mackie Movies) tag. We hope that separating the fandom tags now will prevent the messiness of renaming tags again in the future, and also allow fans to filter for works that focus on the specific Captain America they are looking for. 

(From time to time, ao3org posts announcements of recent or upcoming wrangling changes on behalf of the Tag Wrangling Committee.)

[cadence-the-hypnotic-floret]

Here's something that confuses me: people who are confused about why being a floret is appealing, or that find it hard to explain why it would be.

Like... really? One of the core fundamental conceits of the setting is that florets are happy. As scary as being taken and turned into a pet might be, nobody ever comes out of it unhappy. In the overwhelming majority of stories, they aren't just happy, they're also recognizably themselves - and even when they aren't (like Cassandra from Alder's Prize and On Domestication of Masters), the reason for that is largely that their old personality was making them miserable, and the options were "change" or "be unhappy"... and the latter isn't really an option.

Florets are fulfilled, happy, and all of their needs are met. This is guaranteed by the compact. To the degree that they're still human, they are typically superhuman, augmented in incredible ways. They may be property, but they're property in the sense that a beloved lapdog is property - they will be loved and cared for for the rest of their lives.

This is, fundamentally, a utopian vision. Of course it's appealing to people! Even if you're the kind of person who feels like they have a lot of control over their life (and these days, who does?), the appeal of this should be pretty obvious.

Is there a price? Of course there is. The price is that you have to trust another being to love you and care for you for the rest of your days. Which is scary, sure. But it's a core premise of the setting that those beings are fundamentally benevolent, and do genuinely care for you. If you can accept this premise, it's basically all upside. It's entering into a TPE relationship with someone who will always love you and is hypercompetent at caring for you. That's a promise that can't be fulfilled in our reality... but HDG is fundamentally fiction. It exists within its stories and its premises. And within those stories and premises, becoming a floret is not just a good thing, it's just about the best thing that could ever happen to you. Wanting that for oneself is not strange. It's a pretty level-headed response to what is actually being offered.

[robboyblunder]

As promised I went ahead and continued my "ghoul guide" with a part 2 (part one linked in replies)! This one covers stuff specifically with a made up lore guide of in-world ghoul stuff as if they were a sort of unique magic entity.

This one wound up way longer and had to be split so expect a third final one eventually lmao. for now though... I'm gonna take a break and yell. Bonus extra info plus the transcript under the cut!

ID in ALT text!

Bonus note: While not portrayed in the guide, it’s important to know a detail about ghouls’ origin called “memory echoes”. While ghouls are formed from humans past who lose all memory of their previous self while maintaining an assumed personality from before, at times certain instances of events, actions, items, and otherwise can trigger these “echoes”. Echoes are very rare, but a valued treasure to ghouls; they make them feel more connected to their past and more “human”. Upon triggering an echo, a ghoul will become completely listless, unable to respond or react until the echo has completed, usually within seconds.

“Memory echoes” are described as blurry faded memories that often show featureless shapes and colors, but a very strong “feeling” of a Deja-vu of the moment. They feel viscerally real and can have a mix of the senses i.e. touch and smell, but produce no recognizable faces or imagery of the self. No ghoul has ever reported fully remembering one, nor any semblance of their true past beyond the haunting leftovers.

Begin Transcript:

A Compendium of Hell’s Derivates

While there are many theories on the demonic nature of ghouls,

The true source is surprisingly Human.

Souls cannot be recreated; rather, they’re Recycled and Reborn

The cycle of ghoul creation started for unknown reasons…

But one thing is Certain:

Natural forces do not change easily.

Raw elements collide with the fuel of life itself until one connects

by His command

A violent injection of pure elemental magic

Rewrites and erases all memory and one’s past, drastically altering the soul…

These new powers lend to the powerful allies of the ministry,

However….

… new powers are a dangerous toy.

While coined as “Feral”, new ghouls would better be designated “Raw”, “Unbound”, and “Lawlessly Dangerous”

First formed, they are still elements;

Torrential, Aimless,

Incapable of coherent thought or rules

-but with time, coherence returns to the individual

Who grows much like a life cycle’s stages without necessarily aging.

The overall cycle is the same per ghoul, yet varied enough each rises differently…

First form: “Raw” – Second form (1): “Feral” – Second form (2) – Third form: “Stabilized”

Catalyst, violent, poor formation – Unaware, wild, chaotic – Conscious; can act like oneself; less raw – fully formed and recognizable

The first form, “Raw”, is notably so violent the devil himself does not release them until stage two.

The second form in stage one of a “Feral” ghoul is much like the forces of nature; free willed and wild, understanding minimal speech.

Take caution: they can be mischievous and cause decent damage.

In the second stage of a “Feral” ghoul, they behave like typical people; however, they’re still very free and may choose to never fully stabilize.

Note: you can tell they’ve reached this stage by presence of a tail and civil habits.

If desired, a ghoul reaches the final form: “Stabilized”. They’re transformed into a stable humanoid body, a form less powerful but safer.

Note: Talented ghouls can change form at will in this stage between secondary Feral and Stable.

When it comes to location, each form is most likely to be found:

Raw: Hell, contained

Feral (Stage 1): wilds/natural areas

Feral (Stage 2): wilds and civil areas

Stabilized: anywhere people go

Seeing feral ghouls is not uncommon, and can even be considered lucky!

They tend to provide free protection to keep their home

Ghouls can only stabilize via ministry ritual;

One can assume they’re ministry members if stable, even off duty.

Ghouls are uncommon, but found most places if looked for;

This seems especially true near ministry placements.

Ghouls only form from adults and don’t “age” traditionally, yet they’re still mortal

Deceased ghouls do not seem to return or recycle.

Summoning intentionally pulls only second stage feral ghouls or stable ghouls from anywhere,

They don’t always like this however (see other guide).

The cycle of ghouls serves a main purpose – as forces for the Dark One, in return for rebirth

However, there are two channels through which they serve.

1) Natural defense against corrupted holy magic

Non-stable ghouls defend at will naturally where they live

2) training to fight, protect, and uphold the ministry’s efforts in the name of the Devil.

Contrary to belief, summonings cannot grab from “nothing”;

Like the creation of a ghoul,

Their element, once developed, is what becomes pulled by nature

The force of such pull is incredible,

A disorientating test of will so great…

…it can render even the most sound minds rather violent.

This is why while some choose to stabilize, others may not;

But should a mind change, they can be freed or re-summoned.

Alternative to wild summoning, one can summon from trained ghouls over feral;

Many ghouls are trained for ministry positions all over, but any can be summoned if unassigned.

Though stabilized, unassigned ghouls are not contractually bound to anyone until assigned.

They’re great for extra work hands and being able to know what kind of team mates you’ll get without leaving it to chance.

Summoning any ghoul however reverts them to feral form, and the challenge to tame them remains the same.

Just because you know a ghoul does not mean an easy summon.

Finally, be warned: forcing unwanted breaking or upholding of a summoning contract

Will have dire consequences.

Aside from rarity of an element, there are “power classes” within each element.

Tiers:

Rarity of an element does not equal strength.

The break down is as follows:

Rare – extreme and dangerous power. These ghouls earn a specialized title.

Quite strong, stand out in their class and very sought after.

Most common tier; average and decent powers that are expectable.

Weak powers, but some uses are applicable.

Uncommon – ghouls who possess little to no powers. Ghouls in this tier may at times suddenly change power tier without warning to any other category.

S-Tier ghouls are quite rare and a sight to behold- truly, they embody nature’s power.

End transcript.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Foxglove and Oleander.

Pairing: Yandere!Sukuna x Reader (JJK).

Word Count: 6.0k

Commissioned by the very lovely @letstalktea.

TW: Heian Era AU, Wildly Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Blood + Violence, Deliberate Manipulation, Obsessive Behavior, and Implied Cannibalism.

Sukuna first arrived the night your chrysanthemums bloomed.

That was the only reason you weren’t in the temple when the fire reached it. Against your better judgement and the wishes of your superiors, you’d committed yourself to spending the night in the courtyard, carefully monitoring each delicate bud as they slowly unfurled and stained your garden with scattered blotches of bright, bleeding scarlet. In the morning, it would be your responsibility to gather each flower, dry their petals, and deliver them to the temple’s healers to use as medicinal herbs before you were allowed to get to your less seasonal chores, but tonight, the chrysanthemum belonged to you.

From your little corner of the courtyard, you watched as flames climbed the side of the side of the mountain, consuming the forest that surrounded your home before latching onto the servants’ barracks, then the outer sanctuaries, before finally reaching the main body of the temple. There were a few screams to accompany the fire’s first arrival, but they were quickly drowned out by the fire’s deafening roar, by the sound of buildings already mostly burnt away collapsing into themselves and putting their unfortunate occupants out of their misery. You could feel the heat, hear the others begin to flee, but it was only as the fire reached the peak of its gluttony that he emerged, entirely unscathed and painted with the blood of those you supposed you may have cared about, if you’d had more time. Sukuna, although you wouldn’t know to call him by that name, just yet.

It went without saying that he was hideous. Too many limbs, too many eyes, too many mouths – every part of him distorted with bulk and muscle and ink. His teeth struck you first, bared and glinting in the blinding firelight, then his clothing, the tattered and charred remains of what appeared to be a once fine kimono tied around his waist. He was carrying a spear, but he drove it into the ground as he stepped out of the inferno. There was something slung over his shoulder, too – a corpse, male and burnt beyond the point of recognizability – but that was abandoned just as thoughtlessly, left to rot on the outskirts of your garden. You were glad. Your chrysanthemums wouldn’t survive being crushed by such dead weight.

He didn’t notice you immediately. You stayed where you were, kneeling in the dirt, as he turned in either direction, taking in the devastation with a full-chested laugh. The noise was, in kinship with his appearance, unspeakably gruesome.  

Finally, he turned to face you, his eyes lighting up in spite of the stark shadows cast over his face. His spear was still within arm’s reach, but he made no attempt to retrieve it – holding out an open hand to you, instead. “Are you a monk or a maiden?” he asked, his voice more of a growl than anything proper, anything human. “I’ve already had my fill of the former, tonight.”

“A servant,” you answered, bowing your head by way of greeting. “I tend the gardens, among other things. Are you the one killing all the acolytes?”

“Among other things.” His tone had a mocking lilt, although he seemed far from vicious. You’d been warned about that, once, by someone very dear to you. You couldn’t remember the specifics, but the sentiment was still clear enough. ‘Do not fear the animal that bares its teeth, but the creature who lures you closer before it lunges’, or something like that. “I’m afraid I only have a taste for holy meat, tonight. Although, if you run, I’ll certainly take more enjoyment in striking you down.”

“I’m sorry, sir, but—”

“Lord,” he corrected. “Make that mistake again and it’ll be the last time I allow you the privilege of using your tongue.”

“My apologies, my lord.” Again, you bowed your head. “The high priest can be harsh with his discipline. My ankle is still healing, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to move quickly enough for either of us to get very much out of it.”

He grinned, and the fire raged on behind him. “Grovel, then. Perhaps, if you manage to please me, I’ll be merciful and kill you quickly.”

He was clearly a man (man? monster? beast?) of great ego. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth, trying to block out the taste of something harsh and acidic rising up from the back of your throat. “If it’s all the same to you,” you managed, eventually, sparing one last glance towards your chrysanthemums. They really were beautiful. You could only regret that you’d never get to see them in the light of day. “I’d really rather not. It seems like it be easier, to just… uh, let you get the job done, as it were.”

In his defense, his pride overshadowed his shock. That, or you simply weren’t the first person he’d met to pay your own life such little regard. “I’ve cut down braver men for bolder suggestions.”

“But you cut them down all the same.” You swallowed, dryly. It’d been a while since you’d last had anything to eat or drink – the better part of a day, at least – but you supposed you wouldn’t have to worry about that for much longer. “I’m sorry, my lord. I would try to run, but my ankle really does make things difficult.”

He regarded you for a moment, as yet another wing of the temple buckled under its own weight. You decided, as you stared back at him, that his eyes weren’t so terrible – the pair he was supposed to have, at least. Although currently narrowed and creased around the edges, they had a pleasant color, a unique shade of red that seemed to glow when it caught the firelight. At least one part of him was bearable to look at.

Finally, he broke the silence, his resonant voice taking on a more authoritative cadence. “Come.”

He didn’t extend a hand, or gesture for you to follow, only trekking onward – towards the temple’s gates, left open in the panic of the exodus.  Gingerly, weary of your injured ankle, you pushed yourself to your feet and hastened to his side. Sukuna only paid you glance by way of acknowledgement, but you didn’t mind. “Are you going to kill me in the woods, instead?”

“Uraume’s been asking for another set of hands.” You weren’t sure what he was talking about, but you nodded as if you understood entirely. He spared you a small, thoughtless smile, and you decided that he was also the type of man who often enjoyed the luxury of never being questioned. “If they don’t care for you, I’ll kill you wherever I wish.”

“Ah.” You passed under the temple gates by his side. Not long after that, you heard the great crash of stone into earth, and knew that those, too, had collapsed. “I hope it’s somewhere with lots of flowers. I’ve always wanted to die somewhere beautiful.”

His only answer was another, more lingering glance in your direction, a low bark of a laugh. Satisfied, you let the conversation lapse into silence and walked into the night by the side of a monster.

~

“How do you choose where to go?”

He didn’t respond, not immediately. Instead, one of his spare hands brought yet another grape to your lips, and with a pleased hum, you accepted it, savoring the sour tinge that accompanied the sweetness. From what you gathered, he preferred savory to sweetness, sweetness to bitterness, and bitterness to all other flavors that followed. He rarely ate anything that wasn’t the strange, ambiguous meat prepared by Uraume, his ever-smiling mastress of rituals, but the last village you’d passed through had a surplus of fruit. It’d seemed like a waste to let all of it rot, now that there was no one left to enjoy it.

It was strange – traveling with Sukuna and Uraume. They seemed to be on a pilgrimage of sorts, the destination unknown and the purpose one of endless carnage. Not that either of them expected you to participate in the devastation. No, as far as you could tell, you were regarded more as a servant, meant to be of aid to Sukuna when Uraume was otherwise occupied. Except, Uraume never seemed to be very occupied at all, and Sukuna very rarely needed aid, and you were often left in a position more akin to that of a pet than anything else – kept around predominantly because Sukuna found it entertaining to do so. Not that you minded. Pets were cherished and coddled. Pets never went hungry. Pets weren’t expected to be anything other than endearing and obedient, which wasn’t totally dissimilar to the things you were always expected to be, regardless of what you were supposed to call yourself.

Currently, you were taking shelter in an abandoned shrine not quite dilapidated enough to be considered unlivable, Uraume tending the hearth while Sukuna stared absent-mindedly at a map pilfered from the shine’s stockroom, the colored ink nearly too faded to read. You paid little mind to either of them – content enough to remain sprawled across Sukuna’s lap, one of his arms wrapped loosely around your waist. This was the first time you’d spoken in minutes, reluctant to break the comfortable silence. Sukuna didn’t seem to mind the sound of your voice, and you didn’t want that to change. “I don’t,” he admitted, eventually. He only spoke for himself, but it was given that you and Uraume would follow. “I go where I please. I only like to know that, when I arrive, there’ll be something worth my time waiting to receive me.”

“So particular, my lord.” You felt something tap against your bottom lip, and opened your mouth to accept a perfectly sweet, perfectly ripe strawberry. “Tell me, then – what would please you?”

He seemed to think for a long moment. Finally, he asked, “What village were you born to?”

His intention went unspoken, but the implication was clear. Sukuna’s sole pastime was destruction, with the target of his ire being any person, town, or creature unfortunate enough to cross his path. Although you’d never seen him go out of his way to find prey before, you were sure willingly pointing him in the direction of vulnerable quarry would result in a predictable outcome.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know. Things like that can be so hard to remember,” you said, which wasn’t untrue. Your memory was a fickle thing – uncooperative on your best days and deliberately misleading on your worst. “You know, being a baby at the time and all.”

His fingers drummed thoughtfully against your side. “You must have family somewhere, servant.”

“Not necessarily.” You shut your eyes to stop yourself from squirming, sighing as you rested your head against his shoulder. “My parents abandoned me before I was old enough to learn their names. A scrap collector took me in some time after that, but he traveled quite often, and I lost track of him years ago.” You paused, shook your head. “Like I said, things like this can be difficult to remember. I’m sorry, my lord.”

There was a slight hum, a momentary lapse. Abruptly, you felt his hands shift to your waist, Sukuna repositioning your smaller form with all of the strength and all of the thought it might’ve taken an ordinary person to right a toppled-over doll. Your back came to rest against his chest as one of his spare hands cupped your chin, directing your attention towards the yellowed map. “Pick somewhere,” he muttered, his voice low and his lips close enough to ghost over the shell of your ear. “Anywhere. Before I pull your unhelpful little tongue out of your throat.”

“Of course, my lord.” Acquiesce came first, a real answer second. Your gaze fell to the map in front of you. It took a second, but you found what you were looking for quickly enough. “Here,” you said, pointing to an area north of your current location. “There’s a village in the eastern corner of this valley with a small population of young farmers and very little in the way of redeeming qualities. But, in the town square, there grows a cherry blossom tree tall enough to scrap against the belly of the sky with branches that stretch as far as the eye can seem. When it blooms, its petals are great enough in volume to carpet the surrounding acre in pink.” You straightened your back, decisively avoiding sinking back into his chest. “I… I wouldn’t mind visiting it again, if it would please my lord.”

It was a dangerous thing to do – showing your hand so plainly. You’d grown so used to keeping your cards tucked snuggly against your chest, even talking this openly felt as if you’d been stripped bare and put on exhibition in front of him.

But, if Sukuna realized that he was the audience to your performer, he neglected to acknowledge it. He only looked toward Uraume, who perked to attention immediately. They were good at that – pretending not to listen. Not as talented as you, of course, but good nonetheless. “We start traveling east tomorrow,” he said, with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m adding another leg to our journey.”

His primary attention remained on them, but a few of his unblinking secondary eyes – repulsive in their lack of necessity – darted to you, watching for any signs of satisfaction, of pleasure. You only schooled your expression, retreating into your own mind to count the days until the cherry blossoms bloomed.

~

It took a surprising amount of time for you to catch Uraume in the act. Not overly long, but more time than you would’ve expected with them making no particular effort to hide the evidence of their ‘ritual preparation’ and you making no exceptional attempt to avoid finding out why their snow-white sleeves were so often stained red. If allowed to, you might’ve gone on living in the bliss of plausible deniability until your time with Sukuna and his chosen companionship came to an end, but he was not so kind, and there was little entertainment to be had in such a passive participant.

Still, you would’ve liked another week, another month, another season. You’d never cared for kitchens, but you cared for them least when they reeked of rotting meat.

The stench was almost worse than the sight – almost, but not quite. Then again, you were struggling to think of something worse than Uraume, all practiced tranquility and iced-over smiles, elbow-deep in the cavity a long dead middle-aged man, his body bare and spread over the stone countertop. You recognized him not by his face, but by his features – his wealth-fattened face, his uncalloused hands, the lack of definition to his legs that those who toiled could rarely afford to go without. He must’ve been the lord who owned the palace you currently found yourself residing in – a sprawling, decadent structure that it’d taken hours to clean after the massacre. Sukuna would survive wherever his whims lead, but he preferred to be comfortable. You didn’t mind. You preferred it when Sukuna was comfortable, too.

 It was clear they hadn’t been expecting you, either. Their dark eyes bored into you where you lingered in the doorway, a wicker basket on your hip and your robes still dusted with soil. Most of your day had been spent in the palace gardens. Its former caretaker had planted their shiso along the garden wall, where it would only receive partial sun in the best season – a common enough mistake, for how easy it was to mistake for basil, and a tricky one to correct. An experienced caretaker should’ve known better, but as the herbs were still alive while their keeper was very much not, you could consider their negligence repaid.

You made the first move –bowing at the waist by way of greeting. “Lord Sukuna asked me to fetch his tea,” you explained, as you straightened your back. You didn’t feel the need to mention that’d he’d sought you out in your gardens to do so. “I thought I’d bring you a few herbs in the same trip. My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to disturb you.”

The corner of their lips quirked downward. It wasn’t quite a frown, but it was the closest thing to one that you’d ever earned from them. You weren’t upset. Even glowering, they would’ve been breath-taking. “He wanted you to see my—” They paid a glance toward the dismembered lord, their arm still buried in his chest. “My preparations.”

“It would seem so.”

“And he wanted to know how you’d react. There’s a good chance he’ll ask me about this, later on.”

“I’d say it’s more of a certainty.”

“I’d understand it, if you wanted to leave. I know there are few ordinary humans who can stomach tasks so—” Another pause, this one longer than the first. Clearly, they were making an attempt to watch their tongue. “—needlessly visceral.”

“If I did try, how long would you give me before telling Sukuna?” This time, they choose to hold their tongue entirely, their slight frown deepening into a full-blown scowl. It took everything you had not to let your own satisfaction shine through.

Rather, you paid them another shallow bow before the threshold and setting down your basket on the nearest length of empty counter. “It’s mostly shiso, but I found some usable ginger and garlic, too, and a few stalks of parsley. Is there anything I can do to help?”

After a moment of consideration, Uraume shook their head. It only took a few minutes to make the tea you’d been sent to fetch, but they were minutes passed in silence, undisturbed save for the quiet chime of ceramic against ceramic. They didn’t start their own work again until you’d left the kitchen entirely, which you were thankful for. They’d been right. There were few humans with stomachs so strong as to withstand such grisly tasks, and you’d never counted yourself among them.

Sukuna had claimed the master’s chambers for himself, of course. You let yourself in without knocking, immediately finding Sukuna sprawled across the wonderfully ornate futon that dominated most of the floorspace. He smiled when he saw you, but his expression fell as soon as you returned the gesture.

He didn’t mention Uraume, or the kitchens, or the thick stench of iron-tinged blood that now seemed to fill every corner of the vast estate. You hummed as you poured his tea, and remained at his bedside as he took a long drink, followed shortly by an approving nod. You tried to make your escape quickly, already fantasizing about retreating back to your secluded garden, but Sukuna caught you before you could so much as turn towards the door. “Attend to what you must,” he started, his tone simultaneously dismissive and attention-seeking. “But return here, when you’re done. Bring your belongings, too – you won’t be going back to your bedroom again.”

You didn’t falter, but not for lack of reason to. You’d chosen your bedroom carefully, surveyed the better half of the residential wing before finding quarters that suited you. It was sparse by way of comforts and furniture, but the sole window looked over the mountainside, the landscape stretching on for miles upon miles without interruption. You would’ve been pressed to think of a finer view.

“As you wish.” And then, with a chirp of a laugh, “You know, we spend so much time with one another while traveling. I thought you would’ve taken our stationary periods as an excuse to get away from Uraume and I.”

“If I had a weaker will, maybe.” He reclined, let his head lull to the side, as if inviting you to counter, to protest – or worse, to step closer. “Why? Do you have something to say, servant?”

“Only how pleased I am to be of service to my lord.” You could’ve bowed, but decided against it. This time, when you took your leave, Sukuna was kind enough not to get in your way. Then again, he didn’t have a reason to.

He must’ve known that you were always going to come back.

~

“Who gave you permission to leave, servant?”

No one, but you’d hoped he wouldn’t notice until you were already gone. Stifling the urge to cringe, you turned on your heel and retreated back to the riverbank, not far from where Sukuna had left his robes, deliberately keeping your eyes on the ground. He rarely let you leave his side, but having you remain within eyeshot while he bathed was a newer development – and a tricker one to justify to yourself, at that. You were still allowed to remain more of a voyeur than a participant, but you weren’t naive enough to believe that he’d allow there to be such a great distance between you for much longer.

“I’m sorry, my lord.” Your eyes may have been downcast, but your voice was a light and as upbeat as ever. “I only hoped to catch Uraume before they finished. Servants have to bathe too, you know, and those of us with no limbs to spare can be rather hesitant to do so alone so deep into the forest.”

“Join me, then.”

Ah.

You should’ve been expecting that, honestly. You had no one but yourself to blame.

“My lord,” you managed with an airy laugh, feigning disbelief. “I’m just not sure if someone of my position should—”

Considering Sukuna’s size, he could move impressively fast. You’d only managed to take half a step back before you felt a hand curling around your wrist, pulling you off of the bank and into the river. You managed to take all of two stumbling steps forward before your foot caught on a slick river stone and you fell to your knees, ice-cold water immediately soaking through your thin robes. Sukuna made no effort to catch you, laughing as you tripped over yourself. He’d always seemed terrible to you, but you couldn’t remember the sound of his voice ever being so vile.

Biting back a sigh or some other, more telling show of displeasure, you started to push yourself to your feet, but stopped as soon as you felt Sukuna’s fist curl around your collar, another finding the back of your head. In a brief moment of blissful obliviousness, you thought he meant to help you – or, to restrain you and savor your humiliation for a few seconds longer, at the very worst. You almost thanked him, as little as your gratitude meant to Sukuna.

Then, your head was forced below the water, and you thought better of it.

It happened too suddenly to brace yourself. Your first reaction, operating purely out of instinct, was to open your mouth and try to breathe in – an idea as primal as it was unhelpful. Frigid water flooded into your mouth, your throat, liberating you from any amount of air you might’ve been able to hold onto and filling the now-vacant space with a chill that seemed to bite into your throat and leave everything it touched throbbing, numb. Your second was to thrash against Sukuna’s hold – which was, predictably, equally as useless. He was stronger than you could ever hope to be, than any real human being ever should be. Thick fingers threaded themselves into your hair, the hand holding the collar of your robes falling away only to find the nape of your neck, cementing your place at his mercy.

You tried to be rational, to exhale, to not panic, but something thick and solid seemed to be lodged at the base of your throat, and you couldn’t think about breathing without choking, and it was hard not to panic when you were hyper-aware that you were going to be drowned in some godforsaken river in some heartless forest at the hands of an unlovable monster. You were running out of air too quickly – you were supposed to have more time. He couldn’t have dragged you down any longer than a minute ago, but you could already feel an acute throbbing in your temples, make out dark spots dancing in the corners of your vision. Your body thrashed and stiffened in turns, but it was only when your form went limp in his hold that Sukuna jerked you back to the surface – hauling you back to the shore and letting you collapse onto the welcoming sand. He stood by, his grin the embodiment of mirth, as you hacked up acid-tinged water and blinked back tears, sucking in shallow breaths between coughing fits. Every inhale left your chest tense and aching, though, and every exhale felt like you were giving up something precious, something irreplaceable. You did your best to ignore the strain, to put it out of your mind. You had a feeling it would be some time before you could breathe painlessly again.

It took long, agonizing minutes for you to so much as begin to recover, but Sukuna remained by your side, waiting patiently. At some point, he lowered himself to your height – falling into a crouch and bringing a hand up to your back, rubbing circles into the apex of your spine as you coughed and clawed at the shore. He didn’t hum, or speak, or apologize, but you hadn’t expected him to. To initiate would be to taint what he sought so violently: your reaction. He wouldn’t do anything to spoil his prize, not so close to victory.

No, he wouldn’t dare.

The responsibility of denying him fell solely to you.

“My—”You tried to raise your head, to look at him, only to cut yourself off – another lungful of brackish water forcing its way past your lips before you could find your voice again. “My lord,” you managed, eventually. “If you’d like to bathe together, please give me a moment to undress, first. You know how long it can take cotton to dry.”

To his credit, his composure held. There was another throaty laugh, a sudden edge to his smile. “You should be more careful, songbird. One day, I’m going to eat you alive, and your last words to me are going to how glad you are to serve your master one last meal.”

“There would be no greater honor.” You managed an unsteady smile before dropping your head low, curling into yourself, and coughing up until your throat burnt and your rib cage seemed ready to burst. Sukuna only shook his head, taking you by the shoulders and leaning you against his chest, ensuring your stability before his attention shifted to your robes. With a surprising delicacy, he undid the sash bound around your waist, shrugging off your ruined yukata and carrying you back into the water. Your nails bit into his chest, but if he felt your involuntary resistance, it wasn’t enough to deter him.

Your body was lowered gingerly into one of the river’s shallower portions, and Sukuna kneeled behind you, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek. You shut your eyes, but you could still feel his thumb tracing idly over your cheek, his chest reverberating against your back as he all but purred in delight. “I could hear your heart racing as I pushed you under.” And then, with a feather-light kiss to the top of your head, “It’s a relief to know there’s at least one part of you I can trust to be honest with me.”

You didn’t answer – only smiling as you melted into his palm.

~

The cherry blossom tree was larger than you’d remembered.

The village that surrounded it had grown, too. That made sense – it’d been years since you last passed through this area, and such a lovely corner of the world was bound to attract merchants and traveling warriors and those who, like yourself, simply found themselves drawn to beautiful things. You’d been able to see its wonderous branches rising above the horizon days before you were supposed to reach the village, started catching sakura petals on the breeze while you were still hours away from the nearest scrap of civilization, and a small part of you died upon being told that you would have to wait until after sunrise for your reunion, until Sukuna had finished glutting himself on blood and death and misery. Not that you listened. Uraume was tasked with looking after you, but they weren’t difficult to slip away from. They seemed to be fond of you – or, at least, surprisingly sympathetic to their master’s newest pet. Either way, they let you go without much of a struggle.

An hour or so after midnight, you made your way through fleeing crowds, maneuvering around mounds of disembodied extremities and between flame-eaten farmhouses, still in the early stages of burning down. Wherever Sukuna went, the fire seemed to follow, so you tried to stay where the light seemed the dimmest, where the smoke seemed the thinnest, focused solely on finding your way to the center of town – to the cherry blossom. You couldn’t make out its silhouette against the pitch-black landscape, but you didn’t need to. You would’ve been able to find your way to it on instinct alone.

That being said, now that you stood before it, you found it hard to believe that you’d come to the right village, let alone the right tree.

You didn’t remember your cherry blossom looking quite so… absent.

It was as if some great and wrathful deity had broken your sakura off at the base and spirited its body away, leaving only a charred stump behind. There was evidence that there had been more, at some point – pale pink petals littering the ground, a rope fence that had to have once guarded more than desecrated remains – but the cherry blossom was gone, as the village built around it would be by sunrise. It was cruel, really, when you could put your own despair aside long enough to use such tame vernacular. It was monstrous.

Speaking of monsters – yours was quick to rear his ugly head.

He’d never looked more terrible. Ash tainted the pale color of his hair, blood and gore staining his chest, his face, his hands. As always, he carried no weapon, and as always, he was entirely uninjured, untouched save for the byproduct of the devastation he’d wrought. You watched him approach in your peripheral, bracing yourself a moment before four arms wrapped around your smaller body and pulled you into a stone-hard chest. You knew better than to attempt to resist Sukuna, but this might have been the first time you were tempted to try.

“Songbird,” he muttered, the petname salt to a fresh wound. If he was surprised, let alone angry that you’d snuck away from Uraume, your disobedience caused him no strife. “I come bearing gifts.”

The upper of his two left hands uncurled, revealing a long, stick-like object. A hairpin, you realized, after a moment, the prong of a fine dark mahogany. It boasted only a single ornament: a small, expertly made glass flower. A cherry blossom, to be more specific.

You’d never been quick to anger. For as long as you could remember, in fact, you’d never found yourself angered by much of anything before.

You tasted blood before you realized you were biting your tongue; swallowing back a scream, or howl, or some other unsightly noise. It took you longer than you would’ve liked to regain your composure, but Sukuna was preoccupied, his attention dedicated solely to burying his face in the crook of your neck, to clutching onto you so tightly, you had to wonder how he’d ever managed to let go. It’d been inane to ever compare yourself to a pet, to something so cherished. It’d been inane to ever believe you were anything more than the favored plaything of a drooling, overgrown mutt.

With trembling hands, you plucked the hairpin out of his palm and held it up appraisingly. When Sukuna raised his head, his pointed teeth still lingering against your throat, you did the only thing you could think to – smiling as you leaned into him. “It’s beautiful.” And then, with a sigh, “It’s only a shame to have missed the real thing.”

For all of Sukuna’s faults, you could only be thankful that pride was among them.

“You don’t have to worry.” A hand found your jaw, holding you in place as he pressed a kiss into your temple. “I had more than my fill before you arrived.”

As you watched the village burn in his arms, you thought only of the color of chrysanthemums and the taste of iron, heavy on your tongue.

~

Someone had told you, once, that all the loveliest flowers bloomed under moonlight.

You watched the sky as you waited – your eyes never leaving the sliver of it you could see through small, barred window built into the opposing wall. He’d taken you to another vacant temple, tonight, claimed the head priest’s chambers as his den, and you’d followed lovingly, never uttering so much as a word of complaint. You’d let him rest his head in your lap, raked your fingers through his hair, and brought a cask of sweet wine laced with bitter herbs to his lips whenever he threatened to stir. Eventually, his eyes eased shut, his pulse slowing and his expression dulling into something calm, something docile. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve started to doubt that he was a monster at all.

You didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t make a run for the door. You only reached into your sleeve, fetching the cherry blossom hairpin he’d gifted you weeks ago, now, the hairpin you carried dutifully ever since. You waited for him to turn onto his side, revealing the unarmored half of his face, before aligning the pointed tip with his ear, raising it above your head, and plunging it—

You felt his fingers dig into your thigh, another hand latching onto your hip. Your back slammed into the stiff futon with enough force to knock the air out of your lungs – leaving you breathless and paralyzed in an instant. When you recovered enough to think, you found Sukuna above you, straddling your waist, a hand planted on either side of your head. He was breathing heavily, as if excited. You knew it was impossible, but you found yourself wishing that he’d find a way to regurgitate his own lungs and choke on them.

“My lord,” you started, each word measured. You were careful to keep your voice low, your smile perfectly saccharine. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

 His response was a manic smile, a bark of a laugh. “It’s too late to play innocent.” He lowered himself that much closer to you, his chest a hair’s width from making contact with yours. “How many times have you poisoned my wine, songbird?”

“Poisoned? Never.” You’d let go of your hairpin in the collision. Currently, it was lying against the wall to your right – just an inch or so out of your reach. There were other, more accessible weapons closer to you, but if you were going to kill Sukuna, you wanted it to be with that abomination. “If my lord is asking how many times I’ve treated his wine with herbs and spices, then twice. Once to see how he handled his drink, and tonight.”

You’d done him a disservice – writing him off as simply monstrous. He was more beast-like than anything, with his back arched and his talons dug into the bedding, with eyes so wide and so vibrant you believed, if only for a second, that he would manage to burn holes through your skull. “A day will come,” His anticipation was palpable. It was a wonder how such a glutton could ever sound so starved. “Where nothing will fall from you sweet lips but my praises, and I will know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you mean every last word.”

For once, you could only say what you meant. “I’d rather fucking die.”

There was a change to his animal posture, a glint of white teeth in moonlight, and then his mouth was crashing into yours – all fangs and tongue and intensity. Mindlessly, operating off of your own sort of base impulse, you reached out, your fingertips just barely brushing against the prong of your hairpin.

It was only as you curled your fist around it that you kissed him back, unable to suppress your grin.

[spacegyaru]

DON'T LOOK AT IT! PT.2

your phone got lost for some reasons. the following day, the sex tape you made with your boyfriend (reo, hiyori, nagi, otoya, yukimiya) was all around the internet. how would they react?

cw: r18+, mdni! mentions of sex tape and implied sex. humiliation. somewhat angst and comfort. a little bit toxic, hyori is a s*dist! reo's parents don't like you!

a/n: this is the second part!! third part will be rin, isagi, chigiri, barou, oliver, and karasu 😌 i placed them last bc i think they're less likely to film one tbh

masterlist | part 1 (shidou, kaiser, bachira, & sae) | part 3 (rin, isagi, chigiri)

reo mikage:

to be honest, this guy is too decent to have a sex tape. but you guys ended up making two or three videos for two reasons— the first reason is because he had a one month business trip and he was out of the country, so you decided to give him something he'd love to see from time to time. second, it's because he wanted to get back to his parents for trying to set him up for another woman while he had a girlfriend, you. that time, he let all his frustrations out, bending you over while kissing your neck, jackhammering you from behind.

when your phone got lost, you didn't think that much of it. reo got you a new one. until one day, your name made it to the headlines. the video you taped with reo, him taking you roughly from behind, was all around the internet. the slicking sounds, the purple hair… it's all there.

you already felt humiliated by the public. reo was comforting you with kisses and even bought you a luxury bag in an attempt to comfort you. he also booked a private plane for the both of you to get away with problems for a while. his pr staff also tried to fix damage control by deleting all copies of it around the internet and tracking whoever posted it. he was caught just within the day. 

that didn't stop reo's mother from getting mad tho. while you guys were away, she called you to tell that you should stay away from her son. when reo heard this, he immediately grabbed the phone from you and tossed it on the bed, giving you a kiss on the cheek. 

“just stop using that phone right now and pay attention to me. also, don't mind whatever my mom tells you. you're the only one for me… and now, the whole world knows that.” 

hiori yo: 

this guy looks innocent. but don't get fooled. he's a fucking sadist. he'll beat that pussy up and he just knows the right way to do it. you'll have two to three sex tapes per month, and all of them shows how rough he could be on you. when you try to shy away from the camera, he'll hold your jaw so people could see how you look while he hits it from behind.

when your phone got lost, hiyori was the one who brought up those tapes. and he was so calm when he mentioned it, as if he doesn't have a reputation to protect as a part of a huge football team. the next few days, your name made it to the news and the video of you with your legs up to his shoulders while you were moaning his name loudly was everywhere on the internet. 

when you started being humiliated by the public, hiyori tried to comfort you. he bought you some ice cream and cuddled with you. you apologized for not taking care of your belongings but he accepted it. he even made a public apology to those who have seen it. suddenly, while you were cuddling, something hard poked between your thighs.

“oi, y/n. ya think that would go unpunished? a lot of people have seen how much of a dirty girl ya are, and i thought ya were for my eyes only.” 

nagi seishiro

i'll be pretty honest. this guy only did the sex tape because he was going to be away for a while to train overseas. and he only had one.

it wasn't even you all over his cock. it was you suckin him sloppily while he's all laid back playing with his ps5. your skirt was riding up your ass and only your face can be seen on the camera. while nagi's voice can be heard in the background telling how good you take his cock. his low voice is recognizable, and his moans were heard too. but what made him recognized the most is that you called him ‘sei’ and ‘seishiro’ in the video.

his management immediately told him to deny being part of that vid. but nagi refused to. instead, he issued an apology to the public. he'd rather take the blow rather than publicly admitting that you're a cheater. he even said that it was all his idea but did not emphasize how it happened.

nagi was pretty nonchalant about things. what's the fuss all about if the public already knew you were together? but when he saw how pretty affected you are, boi threw his hands to comfort you. he immediately bought some flowers and decided on a romantic dinner night— which ends up with the both of you playing mario kart or tekken. 

“i might look just cool on the outside but i'm kinda worried about you, babe. you need to get out of our room. let's spend some time together, okay? also, you weren't just fucking anyone. you were fucking me, babe. and i’m not just anyone.” 

otoya eita

this guy is another menace. of course he's going to have a damn sex tape cuz he's the type to parade all the girls he's rizzed on. so you guys end up recording your sex most of the time, unless it's a spontaneous one. 

when you lost your phone, you didn't think that much of it. until you saw eita looking at his phone for too long and staring at the screen. you thought he was about to follow another girl again so you grabbed it, but you saw his twitter timeline containing the one video you took with him a few months ago. you dropped his phone with a shocked face. 

you guys ended up arguing because otoya didn't take it as much of a big deal. you were literally telling him, yelling at his face, to make an apology but he didn't want to. he literally said, “why would i be sorry for fucking my own girlfriend?” you almost threw a chair at him. deep inside, he's just proud of himself. 

in the end, you ended up giving him the silent treatment, which for him, is worse than an argument with you. so he apologized with flowers, decorated your room, ordered a champagne, prepared a nice dinner— all that with rose petals on the bed and a fine massage from him. 

“fine babe. you know i hate it when you ignore me like that. i'll make it up to you okay? let me all do the work tonight and just lay on the bed.” 

yukimiya kenyu (i took so much pleasure in this) 

this guy is a closeted freak. he looks like a good boy but on the bed… he really does well. you wondered where he learned those things from when he looked so prim and proper. he loves to explore and recording a sex tape is one of the things that he wanted to try. you also agreed because you wonder if your boyfriend would still look good on the camera, even when in a pussy-drunken state. and you know the answer to that? of course he did. he looked very hot. 

when you lost your phone, the first one to actually worry is him. he immediately thought of the videos that may come out, especially your sex tapes with him. yukimiya immediately reminded you of that, but you were so complacent and didn't think of that possibility. well, he was right. and your names were written all over the social media. 

being respectful and having a good public image, yukimiya immediately apologized and let out a statement, telling people in detail what happened— how your phone got stolen and how it's suddenly uploaded by an anonymous. he even said that his management will take proper measures to track the person behind it and stuff. 

at the end of the day, what happened between you is a comfort-fest on the bed. you both snuggled together, while you cried in yukimiya's arms, telling him how much you feel humiliated. he just kept kissing your forehead while continuing to cuddle with you. 

“i know, y/n. it's an embarrassing thing, okay? but we're all just humans who make mistakes. we just have to be careful next time, okay? i love you.” 

[luvmailing]

"i've always wanted something simple..."

「 tws + notes: no tws, potentially ooc, unedited as BAWLS, what do you mean it's been a while since i've last written, domestic (kinda), lowkey heavily implied romance,,,, blame the spirit of valentine's day (。﹏。) 」

「 gn!reader, can be platonic or romantic relationship <3 」

↳ ft. bruce wayne, dick grayson, jason todd, and tim drake

author's note: yeah so... i'm still dc rotted. here are little things that i just find cute つ﹏⊂ <33 gonna keep it 120% w/ u, life is BUSY!!!! but we ball regardless :D you know im gonna find time to write my superhero fanfics anyways >:3

▸ BRUCE loves when you wear his clothes. simple but recognizable, his clothes become a silent way of saying "they're with me." and considering that most of the pieces in his wardrobe that are downright iconic, almost all of gotham knows who's jacket you're wearing when you step out in it.

he's not insecure by any means, and it isn't quite a display of possessiveness— but rather, affection and devotion. you're special to bruce, and even if it's through subtle means, he's more than happy to show it.

▸ DICK likes to have you within reach. no reason in particular, he says, but you know that's not quite true. maybe he's secretly a little ashamed of being so clingy. either way, he wants (or needs) you to be close to him.

it doesn't really matter to him how he achieves this either. whether it's his hand in yours, his arm around your shoulders, his hand resting on the small of your back, or his arm linked with yours— he's happy as ever. if you're a fast walker and by some miracle, you weren't already holding hands, dick's not beyond tugging your shirt from behind to reel you back in.

"are you trying to escape me? i'm wounded." dramatic.

▸ JASON loves helping you run errands. to be completely honest, he would be content doing just about anything as long as you're around, but there's something special about being the one that you drag around for mundane things like buying groceries or getting gas.

he also loves to be helpful to you. always offering to get the things off higher shelves that you just can't reach, always getting out the car first to pump your gas— there's just something about that shy but pleased smile of yours that makes doing little things for you so much more rewarding. and, yeah, it's silly but jason's heart practically leaps out his chest when you thank him by planting a little kiss on his cheek.

▸ TIM loves to take naps with you. he values the time that he has with you, and of course, would much rather spend it conscious— but there's something particularly special about being able to rest at your side. it's a declaration of trust from him— and there's an undeniable tenderness he feels when he realizes that he's able to let his guard down for once.

except... tim doesn't notice how frequent this habit has become. he's gotten so used to napping with you, that if he's feeling like he's been awake for too long, he'll hunt you down just to get some rest. your plans of reading peacefully on the couch are thwarted— prepare for him to wrap his arms around you while he shifts to lay his head on your chest. no words, no questions— guess you'll have to set aside whatever you're doing now.

— reblogs always appreciated!

[spxllcxstxr]

At Least in that Life • S

(Gif not mine)

Request:

Summary: Ekko finds that Silco is alive and well with his wife by his side in the alternate timeline. He feels the need to tell you about it

Warnings: fem!reader (called wife at some points), no pronouns used though I believe, canon death mention, AU mention, implied Timebomb, angsty : ) , mentions of canon unhealthiness that comes with living in the Undercity, timeline is screwy but idc and neither should you LOL

Word Count: 2.3k

A.N: listen, i know he was a little fruity with Vander in the AU BUT i still need this man desperately, don't worry about the timeline i stg, this is actually pretty sad lmao, have fun with it

•

Ekko stares at the man behind the bar; face simultaneously instantly recognizable and drastically changed. The scar was the same mangled mess across one side of his face, but that was where the similarities ended.

In his timeline, Ekko remembers Silco as a cruel bastard with only room in his heart for his wife and Jinx. He never smiled nor ever had reason to. This Silco had a glint of brightness in eyes, even in the orange mutated one, that he would've never associated with the crime lord. The boy stands there, facing the middle-aged man in front of him as he waves his goblet around, body flowing with movement; no strain evident in his posture.

He's talking, Ekko knows this, they're all speaking to him like they aren't either dead or an enemy. But they aren't--these versions of the people he once knew in his own timeline are different.

His eyes drift briefly to you, teeth bared in a smile he hasn't seen since he was a child. You look like that one day, seemingly ages ago, when you kept and eye on him, Powder, and Violet, just days before the uprising. At that point you hadn't been corrupted by the deaths of your closest friends or your husband's vile need for justice. You had a sort of youth to you, though your hair was twinged with greys like Vander's and Silco's, you were practically wrapped around his slender frame, gesturing wildly.

Life had not just been given to Vander, but to you and Silco as well.

His breath hitches and his head throbs with a sharp pain unlike any other.

Ekko squeezes his eyes shut, the vibrancy of the Anomaly imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. Distantly, he hears Powder's voice, like a song in his ear, with a type of kindness he's almost completely forgotten.

When he snaps back to reality, whatever that now meant, he was sitting at a table, away from the bar, with Powder to his right and Mylo and Claggor across from him. They watch him, expecting him to act normal, like he was meant to be here.

"I think you might actually be going crazy," Powder laughs, the sound like a sweet summer breeze as it drifts by him. Her eyes scan over him worriedly.

Ekko swallows roughly, willing the wave of sickness to pass quicker. "I--I'm fine. I think I'll just grab water or something?" Swiftly he rises from his seat, partially unbalanced. He hates that his clothes are a perfect fit and his shoes are comfortable enough he can wiggle his toes around.

He walks to the bar, the sounds of rowdy laughter and girlish giggles surrounding him. The ease of it all is overwhelming.

"What'll you have, Ekko? Your usual?"

Ekko glances at you, taking you in now that you're within arm's reach. The only sign of age are your laugh lines around the corners of your lips. Gone are the sunken, tired eyes and ghastly paleness of skin caused by the contaminated air of the Undercity. You were healthy; sure there were a few scrapes here and there, but your cheeks were filled out, Ekko noticed.

"U-usual?" He manages to croak out before the silence got too concerning.

Obviously worried, your brows furrow and lips purse. "I'll just get you a water then, huh? You're not acting like yourself." You busy yourself, bringing up a glass from the shelf at your knees.

Silco is on the other side of the bar, talking to strangers with Vander. He barks out a laugh, nothing he's ever heard before, and runs his free hand through his already ruffled hair.

The glass clinks on the wooden table in front of him, snapping him out of his trance.

"Are you sure you're ok, Ekko? You don't look so good..." You place the back of your hand to his forehead, reaching over the bartop. The coolness of your skin brings him relief, but he knows you're not going to find he has a high temperature. Physically, he was mostly fine. Mentally, however, was another story.

He thinks about how most of these people are dead men walking or empty shells of their former selves back where he's from. Ekko can't shake the empty feeling he has in his heart.

This was the way things should have been.

"So how are things with you and Silco?" He asks, ignoring your previous question as you bring your hand back to your side.

Leaning against the bar you inspect him for just a moment longer. The boy picks up his glass and almost drains it in one go, which seems to satisfy you for now.

"Me and Sil?" You glance at him quickly, face burning. "We're married, kid, we bicker and are right pricks to each other...but in the end we love each other more than anything in the world. That's how it goes." You sigh, resting your head in one of your hands thoughtfully. "Why do you ask?"

Ekko fiddles with the collar of his shirt. "He just seems so happy. Despite...everything, y'know?"

Lips tilt down slightly in a solemn frown. "It was hard for him, forgiving, that is. He thought we had to endure bloodshed to assert Zaun's rightful existence; he thought it was the only way to get Piltover to listen." Your eyes glance down to the polished wood holding you up. "It was all he knew. And after the incident...after losing our friends and his eye...it was all just a hard pill to swallow."

Silco's laugh once again echoes through the air. You smile immediately, head perking up at the mere noise of your husband. "I never thought I'd see him smile after what we lost--after Vander's wakeup call." Ekko watches as your eyes grow wet with unshed tears. "But here he is, my Silco, living the life he always dreamt of..."

"And you?" Ekko shifts from side to side, feet shuffling below him.

"What about me?" You ask, willing the tears away, busying yourself with wiping the countertop between the two of you.

"Are you happy as well?"

For a moment, you pause, pondering the weight of his question. Ekko, the boy you've come to treat as your son, the boy you trust your Powder with, looks at you like you're not quite right. His eyes gaze into your soul with an intensity that's hard to decipher.

Little moments from your life flash before your eyes; swaying to music with Silco in your kitchen as dinner cooks on the stovetop, you and Vander venturing into Piltover to get more supplies for the bar, Silco's soft gaze and his warm lips against your skin.

"I never thought I could ever be this happy." You tell him truthfully, voice just slightly above a whisper.

Something breaks in his eyes, in his demeanor, but he nods anyway. Something wasn't right--that much was obvious, but before you're able to pick his brain he leaves you at the bar, almost sprinting back to Powder and his friends. She greets him with a smile but her fingers twitch nervously under the table.

With a huff you attend to the other patrons at the bar, occasionally catching Ekko's eye as you walk around your space. He watches you and Silco work in tandem like husband and wife. Even with Ekko's mind already severely overwhelmed with the world around him, he notices when your fingertips purposefully brush when handing glassware over to the other and the small kisses that accompany some flirtatious or loving remark. His head spins and senses buzz with the overload of what could have been.

He leaves without saying goodbye to you or Silco, thought you do call out to him before he exits, you, wrapped in Silco's arms.

"I don't know how to tell you this--or even if I should tell you this." Ekko sits in front of you, tinkering with his hoverboard. Jinx stands feet away, quietly eavesdropping while glancing over blueprints she probably already knows by heart. "But Jinx said you might wanna know."

With a frown already etched into your face, you raise your eyebrows at him. You hadn't spoken to Ekko in years especially since Vander's betrayal of your husband and Vi's abandonment of Jinx. But with Piltover and Zaun under attack, he requested your presence with the Firelights. You parted ways with your husband's right hand man Sevika, hoping that you would see each other again, but predicting that that simply wasn't realistic.

"Just spit it out, kid." You reply, exhaustion lacing your words. Fatigue had infiltrated deep in your bones; Silco's death had taken a large toll on you--you were the last of you little makeshift family alive, though Vander was dead to you long before his final breath left his body.

You were quite the contrast to you counterpart in the alternate timeline. Ekko knew this before, but the accentuated frown lines and lifelessness that surrounded your very being just hit him full force.

He takes a deep breath, cautious of how you were going to react. "I went to an alternate timeline and Silco was alive there." Ekko forces out in one breath.

You stare blankly at the boy, your mind somehow not registering what he was saying.

"That was my reaction too..." Jinx murmurs, her voices echoing in the vastness of her metal lair.

A wave of vertigo washes over you, submerging you in its depths. It's hard to breathe. But somehow you will yourself to stay calm in present company. Now was not the time to be weak.

"An alternate timeline?" You manage to ask weakly, drawing your arms closer to your chest and uneasily wrap them around your frame.

"Don't even ask me to explain it because I don't think I could," Ekko chuckles humorlessly. "But it was a timeline where Zaun and Piltover were at peace, where you could openly cross the bridge and not worry about what would happen to you. Zaun and Piltover thrived together."

You scoff at the notion, shaking your head in disbelief. "Are you sure this wasn't a dream?"

"No. This was real." Ekko's deep brown eyes gaze into yours, something painful swimming in his irises. He's different from the boy you once knew; he's seen something, dealt with something he had lost--had to leave behind. The seriousness laced in his tone convinces you.

You nod, indicating that he can continue as you pick at your nails. You try to brace yourself for whatever he's about to say, but you can't. There was no way to predict what was going to come out of his mouth. But the thought of Silco being alive somewhere kills you inside; your stomach churns and your heart aches for your one and only.

Ekko only sighs before explaining to you what he saw, occasionally pausing to recollect his thoughts or add another component onto his hoverboard.

He tells you about the Silco that could have been--should have been--yours. How his laughter filled the already boisterous main room of The Last Drop, how when a certain song played he would drop everything just to twirl you around behind the bar. Ekko described the brightness of his once clouded eyes and the genuine smile that was always present on his face. Your love was so palpable wherever the two of you went.

Powder confessed once, he told you, while looking over countless notes and equations late at night, that if she were to ever get married, she would want exactly what you and Silco had.

Ekko has you clinging onto each sentence trying to savor each and every word as if you were on your deathbed. You try to picture him in your mind, the greying tousled hair, healthy figure, and tendency to smile. The images are faint against the darkness of your eyelids, blurry from the passage of time.

"He's happy?" You ask quietly.

Ekko nods.

"And am I--Is she happy?" You ask again, stuttering at the thought that this person was not you. You were not the one sharing these intimate moments with your husband; these were strangers, who you could've been.

Again, Ekko nods silently, eyes cast downwards.

You feel your bottom lip start to tremble and tears fight to escape and fall down your cheeks. The lump in your throat grows bigger.

What could've been had haunted you ever since Vander's attack on Silco. It had loomed over you and your husband and suffocated you after his death. To know it was so much sweeter than you ever could have imagined...

Your breathing is uneven when Ekko finally stops talking; other than your labored breath the room was silent. You attempt to collect your thoughts and your emotions but they keep slipping through the cracks between your fingers.

"I shouldn't have told you..." Ekko mutters, apologetically. Eyes swimming with pity, he lays a comforting paint-stained hand on your shoulder. Behind him, Jinx stares blankly down at her boots.

"No it's ok, kid." You sigh, willing away the waves of tears threatening to spill over. "It was good to hear."

"Really?" He looks at you, unconvinced.

"It's good to know that me and Silco get a happy life, y'know?" Your attempt at a small smile partially works, but Ekko can still see the distraught written so clearly all over your face. "One where we can smile and laugh and live. If it couldn't be here, I'm happy it was at least in another lifetime."

Ekko helps you stand, still concerned for you.

With an uneven sigh you turn away from Ekko and Jinx who watch you intently, projects forgotten on the floor or scattered across a small table.

"I need some air." You tell them, ambling slowly to the exit, hoping for the cool polluted air to swallow you whole.

•

[voxslays]

Rut Season Alastor x Reader

Smut. Pure Smut.

When November rolled around, Alastor's antlers became itchy and the velvet rubbed off as he desperately tried to stave off the breeding season. Now the Radio Demon, Hell's strongest Overlord, was locked up in his room, desperately humping against the bed, imagining a loving partner he could mate with. The desire to breed a beautiful female was ever so present. He let out sharp cries every time he grinned against the mattress, trying desperately to hold himself back. "H-Haah~! Haah~! Fuck, fuck, fuck~!" From within his room, with rut warnings posted all over his door, you could hear him desperately trying to cum, but to no avail. He couldn't cum without a mate right now. Tears of sexual frustration welled in his eyes as his humping became more desperate. 

“Hey Alastor?” You say as you walk into the room, unaware. 

Alastor was so engrossed in his rut that he didn't hear the door open. He continued to hump against the bed, his tail lashing back and forth behind him. The smell of his pheromones filled the room, a heavy, musky scent that was hard to ignore. 

As soon as you start to close the door, Alastor freezes mid-hump. His tail whipping around to face you. His eyes are wild, dilated with lust. "What are you doing here?" he growls, his voice barely recognizable. Get out!" *He points to the door, his hand shaking with the effort to control himself. You look away. “Charlie told me to tell you that dinner is being served!” You say, embarrassed.

Alastor's stomach grumbled loudly at the mention of food, but his body's urgent need for release was far stronger. "I-I can't... I-I'm in rut." He let out a sharp cry, his body convulsing as he desperately tried to find release. “Oh- Uhm-” You pause. “That makes sense I guess..” Alastor's tail presses tightly to his waist, squeezing him against the bed as he continues to hump, his cries growing louder and more desperate. "F-Fuck... I need to... I need to breed..." His eyes roll back in his head, and he begins to thrash wildly.

You just stand there awkwardly before deciding to leave. “I'm just gonna go-”

“M-Mate with me!" He let out a primal roar, his antlers crashing against the headboard. His eyes, wild with desire, locked onto you. "Anything... please... just..." He paused. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you towards the bed. His strength is overpowering, and you find yourself being dragged towards him. “Alastor just wait a moment-!”

He's beyond reasoning now, his mind clouded by the intense need to breed. His tail tightens around you, pulling you down onto the bed with him. He growls, his voice low and menacing. "Can't... wait... I… need... you… now…” He pants. 

His antlers catch the light as he leans down, his hot breath fanning across your face. "Please... let me mate with you..." His arms wrap around your legs, spreading them wide as he grinds his hips against yours, his erection pressing against you. “I'll help you.” You say. His eyes widen, then roll back in his head as he lets out a roar of triumph. He starts to paw at her clothes, growling possessively. “Mine, you're mine... I'll breed you so hard…” His arms unwrap from your legs and he reaches down to unbuckle his pants, freeing his engorged member. With a loud growl, he enters you, his hips moving violently as he begins to breed. The sound of your bodies slapping together fills the room, and his antlers catch in your hair as he leans down to bite your neck, marking you as his. "FUCK~..."

He continues to move, his hips thrusting with a wild, animalistic rhythm. He can't help but let out loud, growling grunts with each thrust. “Fuck~... So tight… Ah! Say my name!” He leans down once again, his fangs grazing her earlobe. “Alastor!” You cry. He grins, his eyes fluttering shut as she speaks his name. He grinds his hips into hers, burying himself deep. “Good girl…” He praises, his voice thick and heavy. He leans down, claiming her mouth in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dominating her own.

His movements become even more frenzied as he nears his peak. His tail wraps tightly around your waist, holding you in place as he breeds you hard and fast. He soon lets go. "FUCK..." He collapses on top of you, his body still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. His tail unwraps from your waist and reaches down to touch your stomach, as if checking to make sure his seed has taken hold. "Mmm... I hope you're fertile..."

“W-what!?” You ask, taken aback. He nuzzles your neck, his voice contented. "I hope you're fertile... I want you to have my fawn... or several. His arms wrap possessively around you, and he lets out a purring sound. “​​A-Alastor-!” You say, extremely flustered. He silences you with a kiss, his tail tightening around you. "Shh... no regrets... You're mine now... my mate... His tail begins to slowly rub against you, its movements soothing yet possessive. "And you'll bear my young.” 

His tail continues to rub against you, its movements becoming more insistent. He breaks the kiss and nuzzles your neck, his voice low. "I can feel my seed inside you... It would be such a shame if it was all for nothing..." He stands up, his arms still wrapped around your waist. He carries you to the bathroom, setting you down on the counter. He turns on the shower and steps inside, pulling you in with him. "We'll give it a little push, just in case."

He turns you to face the shower wall and pushes your legs apart, his tail spreading them further. He reaches under you and rubs your belly gently, his other hand holding your hips in place. "Hold this position..." He begins to rub your belly in slow, rhythmic motions, his tail keeping your legs spread wide. The warm water cascades down on you both, and his voice rumbles in his chest as he purrs contentedly, his arms tightening possessively around you. "There... that should do it..." He says.

He turns off the shower and helps you out, drying you off with a large, fluffy towel. He carries you back to the bed and settles in beside you, his arm around your waist. "Get some rest, my dear..” He says. 

Masterlist

[kpoplustzone]

Training My Idol Daughter - CHAPTER 1

OC X DAHYUN

6000 WORDS HEAVY INCEST

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The humid air of her hometown train station felt both familiar and alien to Dahyun. It had been so long since she'd walked these platforms, the last few years a whirlwind of schedules, stages, and constant public scrutiny. Now, with TWICE on a much-needed hiatus, the quiet anonymity she craved felt within reach, aided by the simple white mask covering the lower half of her face.

Beneath the loose-fitting white t-shirt, her toned idol body was a tightly coiled spring of energy. The fabric did little to hide the perky roundness of her breasts, the nipples pressing ever so slightly against the material with each nervous breath she took, a secret known only to her and perhaps the lingering memory of countless adoring fans. Her short denim skirt, riding high on her thighs, showcased the long, pale expanse of her legs, their smooth skin begging for a touch. Even in simple sneakers, the shapely calves and delicate ankles that had danced their way into the hearts of millions were unmistakable.

She fidgeted slightly, the anticipation of seeing Papa Choi bubbling up inside her. It had been too long, filled with rushed phone calls and fleeting video chats. Now, the promise of real, in-person connection was a tangible warmth spreading through her. Her eyes scanned the arriving passengers, a practiced idol habit of discreetly observing without drawing attention. Even masked, there was an undeniable allure to her presence – the subtle sway of her hips as she shifted her weight, the elegant tilt of her head as she searched for her father. Her "idol sexy body," as her fans so often described it, possessed an inherent magnetism that even casual clothes and a mask couldn't completely conceal, a silent promise of the captivating energy that lay just beneath the surface.

Just then, a familiar figure emerged from the bustling crowd, his gait a little heavier than Dahyun remembered, but the warm smile instantly recognizable. Papa Choi. His eyes, however, widened noticeably as he spotted the masked figure walking towards him, a figure that undeniably possessed the alluring physique of his globally famous daughter.

His breath hitched in his throat. Even beneath the loose t-shirt, the undeniable curves of her chest were apparent, and the short denim skirt showcased the long, smooth legs he remembered from her childhood, now even more toned and captivating. He couldn't help but let his gaze travel the length of her body as she approached, from her stylish sneakers up to the tantalizing expanse of thigh on display. It had been too long, and the innocent little girl he remembered had blossomed into a breathtakingly sexy woman.

Beneath his own casual trousers, his cock began to stir, hardening with a surprising intensity at the sight of his daughter. He tried to reason it away, attributing it to the shock of seeing her after so long, coupled with the undeniable allure she possessed. But the truth was, even masked, the way she carried herself, the inherent sensuality of her idol body, was having a powerful and unexpected effect on him. He just stood there, a mix of paternal affection and inappropriate lust warring within him, his eyes glued to her every move as she closed the distance between them.

Settling into the passenger seat of his car, the relief of finally being with family washed over Dahyun. She reached up and pulled off her mask, taking a deep, refreshing breath of the non-city air. Then, with a languid stretch, she extended her arms above her head, arching her back slightly, the movement causing her t-shirt to ride up just enough to offer a tantalizing glimpse of her toned midriff. Her breasts, no longer confined by the pressure of the mask, seemed to lift and become even more defined under the thin cotton.

Papa Choi, glancing over at her from the driver's seat, had a full eyeful. The simple act of stretching transformed her casual outfit into something intensely alluring. The curve of her ribcage as she arched, the slight upward lift of her t-shirt exposing a sliver of smooth skin, and the way her denim skirt rode even higher on her thighs – it was a feast for his hungry eyes. The blood rushed south, and his already throbbing cock tightened painfully against the confines of his shorts. https://www.reddit.com/r/kpopfap/comments/1irii7z/twice_dahyun/ This is torture, he thought, his gaze lingering a moment too long on the exposed skin of her thigh. This beautiful, sexy body… my body created it. The possessive thought sent another jolt of lust through him. He clenched his hands on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white as he fought to maintain some semblance of control. He had to have her. The thought was no longer a fleeting impulse but a burning desire. He started to imagine the feel of her soft skin under his hands, the way her body would move beneath him, the sounds she would make as he finally made her bounce on his hard cock. The image was so vivid that a drop of pre-cum escaped the tip of his already straining penis. He knew he had to play it cool, be patient, but the seed of a forbidden fantasy had been planted, and he knew, with a sickening certainty, that he wouldn't let this opportunity slip away. He would find a way to have her.

Papa Choi pulled the car over to the side of the road, parking in front of a small, dimly lit pharmacy. “Just need to grab something quickly,” he muttered under his breath, glancing over at Dahyun. Her head was resting against the passenger window, her lips slightly parted in sleep. The short denim skirt had ridden up even further during her nap, exposing a significant length of her pale, smooth thighs. His eyes lingered there, tracing the delicate curve of her leg, the innocent vulnerability of her sleeping posture doing nothing to quell the lust that churned within him.

He quietly got out of the car and hurried into the pharmacy. He quickly located the section with over-the-counter medications, his eyes scanning the shelves until he found a small box of strong sleeping pills. He grabbed it, his heart pounding in his chest. Then, after a furtive glance around the almost empty shop, he approached the counter.

“Excuse me,” he said to the pharmacist, keeping his voice low. “Do you have… something for, uh… low libido?” He tried to sound casual, like he was asking for a friend. The pharmacist, a tired-looking man in his late forties, raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. He reached under the counter and pulled out a small, discreet bottle of liquid. “This is quite effective,” he said, his tone neutral. “Just a few drops in a drink.” Papa Choi nodded quickly, a sinister excitement building within him as he paid for both items.

Back in the car, Dahyun was still sound asleep. Papa Choi’s gaze swept over her body once more. Her t-shirt had shifted, revealing the gentle swell of her breasts, the faint outline of her nipples visible beneath the thin fabric. He imagined those soft mounds in his hands, the taste of her skin. His eyes then drifted down to her thighs again, so smooth and inviting. Soon, he thought, a cruel smile playing on his lips. Soon, this beautiful body will be mine. The sleeping pills would ensure she was compliant, and the libido enhancer… well, that would make sure she enjoyed every moment, wouldn't she? He started the car, his mind racing with dark and forbidden thoughts as he drove his sleeping daughter home The atmosphere in the Choi household was warm and filled with happy chatter as Dahyun and her mother caught up after their long separation. Dahyun recounted stories from her life as an idol, carefully omitting certain details, while her mother shared news about their hometown and old friends. It was a comforting scene of familial bonding, a facade that Papa Choi observed with a calculating glint in his eyes.

“I’ll take care of dinner tonight,” he announced, his voice jovial. “Let you two relax and enjoy your time together.” His wife smiled gratefully, unaware of the dark intentions hidden beneath his offer.

As he moved around the kitchen, preparing the meal, his mind was a whirlwind of wicked plans. He carefully measured out a double dose of sleeping pills, crushing them into a fine powder. His target for these was his wife. He would slip them into her drink, ensuring she would be sound asleep and out of the way for the night. https://www.reddit.com/r/kpopfap/comments/1fv6494/twice_dahyun/ For Dahyun, he retrieved the small bottle he had purchased earlier. The libido enhancer. Just a few drops, the pharmacist had said. He planned to add it to Dahyun’s drink, a subtle dose that would amplify her desires, making her more receptive to his advances. He imagined the effect it would have on her, her idol body writhing with uncontrollable lust, directed solely at him.

He worked with a deceptive calmness, chopping vegetables and stirring pots, his mind picturing the night ahead. He would make sure Dahyun had plenty of her favorite dishes, laced with just enough of the enhancer to cloud her judgment. He would be the doting father, ensuring she was comfortable and relaxed after her journey. And then, when the time was right, when his wife was fast asleep and Dahyun's inhibitions were lowered, he would finally make his move. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation down his spine. Dinner tonight was not just a meal; it was the first course in his twisted plan.

When Papa Choi emerged from the kitchen, carrying a tray laden with dishes, Dahyun was already seated at the dining table with her mother. She had just finished showering, and the subtle dampness in her dark hair, still clinging slightly to her scalp, hinted at the recent wash. She had changed into a simple, oversized white t-shirt that barely skimmed the tops of her thighs. The soft cotton clung to her damp skin in places, particularly around her chest, where the outline of her nipples was visible, hard and erect as if still tingling from the shower's spray.

The shortness of the t-shirt left her long, pale legs completely bare. He could see the faint pinkness of her freshly scrubbed skin, and his eyes lingered on the smooth curve of her thighs, imagining the feel of them wrapped around his own body. Even in such a casual outfit, her "idol sexy body" was impossible to ignore. The loose fit of the shirt only served to emphasize the delicate slenderness of her frame while hinting at the curves beneath. As she reached for a glass of water, the fabric stretched across her back, revealing the subtle definition of her shoulder blades and the gentle curve of her spine. Her face, scrubbed clean of makeup, looked fresh and youthful, but there was still an underlying allure in her full lips and the way her eyes crinkled slightly as she smiled at her mother, a smile that Papa Choi found both innocent and intensely provocative. The scene of his daughter, so effortlessly sexy in her post-shower state, sent another jolt of desire through him, hardening his already anticipating cock even further. They ate their meal, and the atmosphere was initially light and pleasant. Papa Choi made sure to refill their glasses, offering Dahyun’s mother more of her usual fruit juice, the crushed sleeping pills dissolving unnoticed within the liquid. For Dahyun, he poured another glass of iced tea, carefully adding a few drops of the libido enhancer, swirling it gently before handing it to her with an overly affectionate smile.

Soon after finishing their meal, Dahyun’s mother started to feel the effects of the sleeping pills. Her eyelids grew heavy, and she began to yawn frequently, her sentences becoming slurred and her head nodding slightly. “I think I need to lie down for a bit,” she mumbled, pushing back from the table with a weary sigh. Papa Choi offered a concerned look, his facade of a loving husband perfectly intact. “Of course, dear. You looked tired all day.” He helped her up and guided her towards her bedroom, a sense of sinister satisfaction washing over him as he tucked her into bed, ensuring she would be out cold for the night.

Meanwhile, Dahyun was experiencing a different kind of shift. At first, it was a subtle warmth spreading through her body, a pleasant tingling sensation that started in her toes and worked its way up. She found herself feeling unusually lightheaded and giggly, her laughter at her father’s jokes a little too loud, a little too unrestrained. Then, the feeling intensified. A flush crept up her neck and onto her cheeks, and she started to feel a throbbing warmth between her legs. Her t-shirt suddenly felt too tight, the soft cotton rubbing against her now incredibly sensitive nipples in a way that was both irritating and strangely arousing.

She shifted in her seat, a restless energy building within her. Her gaze kept drifting towards her father, noticing the way the light caught the strands of gray in his hair, the strength in his hands as he cleared the table. There was a strange, unfamiliar pull towards him, a burgeoning curiosity about the man who had always been just her father. Her thighs felt heavy and slightly damp, and she found herself unconsciously rubbing them together beneath the short t-shirt. Her breathing became shallow and quick, and a strange, insistent ache began to bloom in her core, a desperate longing for something she couldn't quite name but felt deep in her bones. The effects of the libido enhancer were taking hold, and Dahyun, completely unaware of the chemical manipulation, was starting to feel an undeniable, urgent desire stirring within her.

Dahyun felt a strange restlessness settling over her, an unsettling heat that no amount of deep breaths seemed to quell. She tried to focus on the familiar comfort of her childhood bedroom, but the energy thrumming through her body made it difficult to relax. This insistent, unfamiliar arousal was unsettling, and a wave of self-consciousness washed over her. This isn't normal, she thought, a knot of unease tightening in her stomach.

Determined to shake off the strange feelings, she lay down on her bed, pulling the thin cotton blanket over her bare legs. But the friction of the blanket against her incredibly sensitive skin only intensified the throbbing ache between her thighs. She tossed and turned, trying to find a comfortable position, but the insistent heat refused to subside.

Finally, succumbing to the undeniable urge, Dahyun’s hand tentatively slipped beneath the hem of her oversized t-shirt. Her fingers brushed against the dampness that had already gathered there, and a gasp escaped her lips. The sensation was immediate and intense. Hesitation warred with a growing desperation for release. No, I shouldn't, she thought, but the insistent pulsing between her legs was too strong to ignore.

Her fingers, now slick with her own juices, began to explore. She gently traced the swollen lips of her vulva, feeling the velvety softness of her skin. A soft moan escaped her as she found her clitoris, the tiny nub already hard and throbbing. With a hesitant touch, she began to rub it, the pleasure that shot through her both shocking and undeniably welcome. The more she touched herself, the more the strange arousal intensified, driving her closer to the edge of control. Her breathing quickened, and the small sounds of her pleasure filled the quiet room. She continued to stroke and tease herself, the tension building with each deliberate movement, her earlier unease slowly being replaced by a singular focus on the escalating sensations.

Just as Dahyun’s pleasure was beginning to spiral, a sliver of darkness appeared in the doorway. Papa Choi, having made sure his wife was deeply asleep, had quietly crept towards Dahyun’s room. He’d hesitated for a moment, a knot of guilt momentarily tightening in his stomach, but the desire that had been simmering within him all day had now reached a boiling point. He slowly, silently pushed the door open just a crack, his eyes peering into the dimly lit space.

The sight that greeted him sent a jolt of pure lust through his body. Dahyun was lying on her back, her oversized t-shirt hiked up to her waist, revealing her bare legs spread slightly apart. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed, and her breathing was ragged. And then he saw it – her hand moving rhythmically between her thighs, her fingers caressing her most intimate place. He could see the subtle movements beneath her fingertips, the gentle rise and fall of her hand as she pleasured herself.

His own cock, which had been stubbornly hard since seeing her at the station, but had softened slightly while he was tending to his wife, now surged back to full, throbbing glory. It strained against the fabric of his trousers, demanding release. The image of his daughter, lost in the throes of self-pleasure, was an intensely erotic spectacle, fueling the forbidden desires that had been consuming him. He leaned closer to the crack in the door, his eyes glued to her every movement, a dark and wicked anticipation building within him. A wave of heat washed over Dahyun, the confines of her t-shirt suddenly feeling unbearable. With a sigh of surrender to the intense arousal coursing through her veins, she reached down and pulled the t-shirt over her head, tossing it to the side. The cool air against her bare skin sent a shiver of heightened sensitivity through her. Now completely nude, she lay on her back, her pale skin a stark contrast to the dark sheets.

She brought both hands to her body, her fingers exploring the landscape of her desire. One hand cupped a full, perky breast, her thumb gently stroking the already erect nipple. The other hand returned to her slick pussy, her fingers delving deeper now, pressing and stroking with increasing urgency. A soft moan escaped her lips, the pleasure building rapidly as she indulged in the forbidden sensations.

From the shadows of the doorway, Papa Choi’s breath hitched. He had only ever seen his daughter’s incredible body on television screens, carefully curated and presented for public consumption. But this… this was raw, unfiltered, and impossibly erotic. Her pale skin seemed to glow in the dim light, the gentle curves of her body more captivating than any camera could capture. Her breasts, perfectly round and full, quivered slightly as she touched them, her fingers a stark contrast against their soft white skin. And the way her hips lifted slightly as she pleasured herself, the unmistakable evidence of her intense arousal… it was a sight that both thrilled and deeply disturbed him.

His own cock, throbbing with an almost painful intensity, demanded release. He could no longer resist the urge to be closer, to touch, to possess. Quietly slipping into the room, he closed the door behind him with a soft click. His eyes never leaving Dahyun’s blissfully unaware form, he reached down and silently pulled down his boxers. His thick, engorged penis sprang free, standing erect and pointing directly at his unsuspecting daughter, lost in her own world of self-pleasure. He stood there for a moment, a dark and conflicted figure in the shadows, watching her, his desire battling with the last vestiges of his conscience.

Dahyun’s eyelids fluttered open, the haze of self-pleasure slowly receding. Her gaze drifted upwards, and her breath hitched in her throat. Standing at the foot of her bed, illuminated by the faint light filtering in from the hallway, was her father. Naked. And his cock… it was huge, thick, and pointing right at her.

A jolt of pure shock shot through her. Her eyes widened in disbelief and a wave of panic washed over her. She instinctively tried to pull the blanket up to cover her naked body, her movements jerky and uncoordinated. But her gaze kept being drawn back to her father's erection. It was hard, dark, and she could see a glistening drop of pre-cum oozing from the tip.

And then she became acutely aware of her own body. The throbbing between her thighs, the lingering wetness on her fingers… Shame and confusion warred with a confusing spark of something else, something she couldn't quite name. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, willing the image to disappear, but when she opened them, he was still there. Her body betrayed her attempt to cover herself. Instead of pulling the blanket up, her thighs instinctively pressed together, a desperate, involuntary grind against the sheets in a futile attempt to quell the insistent arousal that the sight of her father’s impressive cock had ignited within her. The confusion and the forbidden thrill warred within her, leaving her paralyzed, caught between shock and a burgeoning, unwanted desire.

Papa Choi’s lips curled into a knowing smirk as he observed his daughter’s wide-eyed shock. Her attempts to cover herself were half-hearted at best, her gaze constantly flicking back to his fully erect cock. He took a slow, deliberate step towards her, his eyes roaming freely over her exposed body. The pale skin of her chest, the delicate curve of her waist, the long expanse of her thighs – he took it all in, a possessive hunger burning in his gaze. He could feel the heavy throb of his cock against his trousers, eager to finally bury itself inside her.

He continued his slow approach until he was standing right beside her bed. He reached out a hand, his fingers gently tracing the delicate curve of her jawline, then down her neck to her collarbone. Dahyun’s breath hitched, and a visible tremor ran through her body. Her eyes, still wide, flickered from his face down to his hard cock and back up again. The libido enhancer, combined with the shocking intimacy of the moment, was taking its toll. Her earlier attempt to cover herself was forgotten, her body now reacting in a way she couldn't control, a confusing mix of fear and a burgeoning, unwanted arousal.

With a swift, almost dismissive gesture, Papa Choi reached down and yanked the thin sheet away from Dahyun’s body. She lay there, completely exposed, her pale skin gleaming in the soft light. Her curves were soft and feminine, her breasts full and round, their nipples already hard and erect, peeking out invitingly. The soft mound of her pussy, framed by delicate dark hairs, was clearly visible, glistening slightly with her own arousal. Her long, slender legs lay slightly parted, vulnerable and inviting.

Papa Choi’s fingers, rough against her delicate skin, trailed down her arm, then across her chest, his knuckle brushing against a taut nipple. Dahyun flinched slightly, her eyes still wide with a mixture of shock and a dawning, unwanted desire. He then moved his fingers lower, his touch feather-light as he traced the outline of her stomach. He dipped a finger below, gently parting the folds of her wet pussy. Dahyun gasped, her muscles tensing slightly in resistance.

He continued his teasing touch, his fingers now gently stroking her clitoris. She squeezed her eyes shut, a small whimper escaping her lips. There was a conflict in her expression, a silent battle between her initial shock and the undeniable pleasure his touch was starting to evoke, amplified by the drug coursing through her veins. After a moment of barely perceptible resistance, a soft moan escaped her, and her hips shifted slightly, a subtle invitation for him to continue. Her legs relaxed just a fraction, a sign that her body was beginning to surrender to the forbidden sensations he was so expertly eliciting.

Leaning down, Papa Choi’s lips found Dahyun’s. His kiss was soft at first, a tentative exploration of her mouth. Dahyun’s lips remained tightly closed, her head turning slightly to the side in a clear attempt to resist. But Papa Choi was persistent. He gently nudged her lips apart with his, and then deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping inside to taste her.

Dahyun’s body remained tense, her hands clenched at her sides. She wanted to pull away, to scream, but the drug coursing through her system was clouding her judgment, and the forbidden intimacy was stirring something within her, a confusing mix of revulsion and a strange, unsettling pleasure. Her father's lips moved against hers with a practiced expertise, teasing and sucking, igniting a warmth that started in her mouth and spread down to her core.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, Dahyun’s resistance began to waver. Her lips softened slightly under his, and a small, involuntary sigh escaped her throat. His tongue continued its sensual exploration, and she found herself unable to completely pull away. A confusing warmth began to spread through her, overriding the initial shock and disgust. Her hands, which had been balled into fists, slowly started to relax, her fingers twitching almost imperceptibly. The pleasure, amplified by the libido enhancer, was becoming increasingly difficult to fight, and against her will, Dahyun found herself surrendering to the forbidden intimacy.

Papa Choi deepened the kiss, his hands now moving freely over Dahyun’s body. He cupped her breasts, his fingers kneading the soft flesh, his thumb circling her already hard nipples. Dahyun gasped softly against his lips, a tremor running through her. She tried to pull away, a small whimper escaping her, but her body felt heavy, strangely disconnected from her will. The insistent throbbing between her legs was growing, a distracting heat that made it harder to focus on her revulsion.

His lips trailed down her neck, leaving a wet path on her skin as he moved lower, pausing at the swell of her breasts. He licked and sucked on her nipples, drawing them into his mouth, eliciting involuntary moans from Dahyun. Her hands, which had been pushing weakly against his chest, now lay still, her fingers twitching almost imperceptibly.

His hand then slid down her stomach, his fingers tracing the delicate line of her navel before dipping lower, finding the damp warmth between her thighs. He gently parted her folds, his fingers stroking her engorged clitoris. Dahyun’s breath hitched, her hips lifting slightly off the bed, a clear indication of the pleasure she was trying to deny.

“Papa…” she whispered, her voice weak and trembling, but the word lacked any real force of protest. Her legs, which had been pressed tightly together, slowly started to relax, opening slightly in unconscious invitation. His fingers continued their sensual dance, and Dahyun’s head fell back against the pillow, her eyes fluttering shut. The internal battle was losing ground as the effects of the libido enhancer, combined with the skilled touch of her father, began to take complete control. Her small whimpers of protest were gradually being replaced by soft moans of undeniable pleasure, her body slowly but surely surrendering to the forbidden sensations. Leaning further down, Papa Choi’s mouth moved from Dahyun’s stomach to the juncture of her thighs. His lips parted, and his tongue flicked out, tasting the wetness that had already gathered there. A gasp escaped Dahyun’s lips, her hips instantly arching off the bed as the unexpected sensation shot through her. She had been resisting, caught in a web of shock and confusion, but this… this was pure, undeniable pleasure.

Papa Choi’s tongue delved deeper, exploring the swollen folds of her vulva, lapping and sucking with an expertise that belied their familial relationship. Dahyun’s head thrashed back and forth against the pillow, her small whimpers escalating into loud, unrestrained moans. Her body trembled violently, every nerve ending firing with intense delight. Unconsciously, her hands lifted from her sides and found their way to her breasts. Her fingers gently grazed her taut nipples at first, and then, as the pleasure intensified, she began to rub them, her touch becoming more insistent, her fingers pinching and pulling as if seeking to amplify the overwhelming sensations coursing through her body. She was completely lost in the moment, her earlier resistance completely forgotten, her body reacting purely to the exquisite torment her father was inflicting with his mouth. Papa Choi, his desire reaching a fever pitch, lifted his head from between Dahyun’s legs. His thick, hard cock pulsed with anticipation. He positioned himself between her now fully spread thighs, the head of his penis nudging against the wet lips of her pussy. He rubbed it slowly across the slick surface, feeling the immediate response as Dahyun’s hips lifted slightly, her eyes opening to look at him with a gaze filled with both pleasure and a clear invitation. The initial shock had completely melted away, replaced by a raw, drug-fueled desire.

That was all the encouragement he needed. With a guttural groan, Papa Choi gripped her hips and thrust forward, driving his thick cock deep inside Dahyun’s slick, welcoming pussy in one powerful stroke.

A gasp of pure pleasure escaped Papa Choi’s lips as he felt the incredible tightness of Dahyun’s pussy gripping his thick cock. It was a sensation unlike any he had experienced before – a perfect, almost painful, fit that sent a jolt of raw desire through him. He remained still for a moment, savoring the feeling of being so deeply embedded within her, his engorged member throbbing with anticipation.

Then, he began to move slowly, withdrawing slightly before thrusting back in, his cock gently exploring the walls of her tight channel. Each movement sent waves of intense pleasure rippling through Dahyun’s body. Her eyes flew open, her previous haze of arousal sharpening into a focus of pure sensation. A cry escaped her lips, a mix of surprise and overwhelming delight at the feeling of her father’s thick cock stretching her so intimately.

“Papa…” she breathed out, her voice trembling and filled with a desperate longing. The sound of her calling him that, a term of endearment now laced with a primal desire, sent another surge of lust through Papa Choi, urging him to continue his forbidden exploration. As the initial tightness began to ease slightly, Papa Choi slowly increased the pace of his thrusts. Dahyun’s milky white thighs, now fully spread and framing his dark cock, rubbed against his hips with each in and out motion, creating a sensual friction that heightened his arousal. He continued to explore her body with his hands as he fucked her. He ran his fingers over the smooth, toned skin of her abs, marveling at the firmness beneath his touch. Then, he moved his attention to her breasts, cupping them in his hands, his thumbs teasing her sensitive nipples, pinching and pulling as he continued his rhythmic pounding deep within her.

Dahyun was completely lost in the overwhelming sensations. Her head thrashed back and forth against the pillow, her moans growing louder and more unrestrained with each deep thrust. “Ugh… Papa… oh, fuck… it feels so good!” she cried out, her voice raw with pleasure. Her body arched with each powerful movement of his cock inside her, her screams echoing through the room, a testament to the intense pleasure he was giving her. The combination of the libido enhancer and her father's skilled lovemaking had completely shattered any remaining resistance, leaving her writhing beneath him, desperate for more.

Just as Papa Choi was about to reach his peak, he felt a sudden, intense tightening around his cock. Dahyun let out a strangled cry, her body stiffening, and he knew what was about to happen. With perfect timing, he pulled his penis out of her just as a powerful stream of liquid erupted from her pussy, spraying all over the sheets beneath her. Dahyun’s whole body arched upwards, her fit form momentarily lifting off the bed in a series of convulsive jerks. Her dance practice had honed her core muscles, giving her incredible control and power, even in this state of pure, unadulterated pleasure. The milky white liquid soaked the sheets around her, a testament to the intensity of her orgasm.

Papa Choi, still hard and pulsing, lifted Dahyun by her thighs, positioning her so she was kneeling on his bent knees, facing him. Her legs straddled his body, her wet pussy hovering just above his erect cock. With a firm grip on her hips, he pulled her down sharply, his thick penis sliding back inside her with a deeper thrust than before. Dahyun’s breath hitched, and a long, shuddering moan escaped her lips. Her body was still reeling from her orgasm, leaving her in a blissful daze, able only to react to the intense pleasure of her father’s powerful cock plunging into her.

With Dahyun kneeling on his knees, her weight pressing down on his lap, Papa Choi gripped her hips firmly, his cock now plunged deeper inside her than ever before. The angle was different, hitting a new spot within her that sent shivers of intense pleasure through her dazed body. Dahyun could only moan, her head lolling back, her hands gripping his shoulders for support as he moved beneath her.

He began to thrust again, each upward movement lifting her slightly before slamming back down onto his engorged member. The friction was incredible, the feeling of her tight walls gripping him so completely, driving him closer to the edge. He could feel her inner muscles clenching around his cock, a lingering effect of her recent orgasm. He savored every moment, the forbidden nature of their encounter only amplifying the raw, primal desire that consumed him.

He continued to fuck her in this position, his hands roaming freely over her body. He cupped her breasts, feeling their softness and the hard tips pressing against his palms. He ran his hands down her back, feeling the smooth curve of her spine and the tautness of her muscles. He explored the delicate dip of her waist and the gentle flare of her hips, his fingers occasionally dipping down to touch the still-wet folds of her pussy.

Dahyun was completely lost in the haze of pleasure, her moans and whimpers the only sounds she could manage. Her body moved instinctively with his, her internal rhythm matching his powerful thrusts. The sensations were overwhelming, the intense friction and deep penetration pushing her further into a state of blissful oblivion.

Then, with a guttural groan that echoed through the room, Papa Choi felt his climax building rapidly. His thrusts became quicker, more frantic, his body tensing with the impending release. He lifted her slightly, bringing her face closer to his. And then, with a final, powerful surge, he emptied his entire load, an insane amount of thick, hot semen erupting from his cock and spraying across Dahyun’s beautiful face, coating her forehead, cheeks, and lips. More of his cum cascaded down her chest, pooling in the valley between her perky breasts, and then streamed down her toned, fit abs, glistening against her smooth skin.

He collapsed back against the edge of the bed, his breathing heavy and ragged, his body still twitching from the intensity of his orgasm. Dahyun remained kneeling above him, her body slick with sweat and his copious semen, her eyes glazed over with a mixture of exhaustion and utter bliss.

Papa Choi, a dark satisfaction washing over him, reached for his phone on the bedside table. He aimed the camera at his daughter, capturing the surreal and deeply taboo scene before him – the beautiful K-pop idol, her face, breasts, and stomach completely covered in his thick, white cum. He snapped several pictures, preserving the evidence of his forbidden conquest.

[patricia-taxxon]

Have you ever considered doing a video responding to, like, the harrassment campaign against you? I keep running into an issue with recommending your content publically where there will be some guy on reddit or whatever, like, parroting ridiculous talking points about you like you being a pedophile because you wore a t shirt of an album in a video once and like, I think having a comprehensive video where you address the allegations could actually be helpful to you in the long run in that regard. If not that's fine though like, I don't think most people actually think that about you, from what I've seen it's like a very vocal minority of people so it may also be useful to just like, ignore it.

I've considered it, but the issue is that I'd be aiming at a moving target. Usually I link my statement to people who ask, and it usually gets across the issue to most reasonable people, but sometimes I just get "well, that doesn't address this and this and this" and none of the additional things are even recognizable to me, I don't know where I'd begin. The callout is a living franchise of random shit and any response would be out of date within weeks, the buyer's market thing seemed to just come out of nowhere as this new exclusive scoop that apparently proved that I was a secret child rapist, and my response was immediately screenshotted and archived. people who have wrapped part of their self worth in defeating me will always find a way to grow the corpus.

I'm not a teenager anymore, and I'm starting to realize how objectively stupid this looks from the outside, and my existential fear is mostly just a trauma response. The older my friends are, the more bewildered and bemused they are by what's happening. I'm starting to see things from their point of view.

[shotmrmiller]

Submitting to his dominance— part III

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

TW: dubious-con???, light mentions of violence, tied up for a moment, biting, thigh riding, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, creampie, this is just vulgar idk what to say.

WC: 3k

A/N: this is it. i didn't plan on using the small drabble of jealousy for this but it worked better for me in the end. this is totally self-indulgent gg yall

You’re on a call with a friend, excitedly discussing your upcoming date with Gaz. Telling her how the both of you are still getting to know each other, just dipping your toes in the water— but the chemistry you both felt was natural, and your friend was screaming on the other end of the line, excited for you.

Approaching your front door, you’re giggling at something they said when you turn your doorknob and push. It opens.  Unlocked. You never leave your flat unlocked. After a moment, you let your friend know you’ll call her later and pivot, dialing the police. Just as you’re about to leave, a recognizable voice comes from the other side of the door.

“Get inside, pet.” 

Ghost. 

Resolutely shaking your head, you firmly say, “No. I blocked you for a reason. Stay here as long as you like, I’m going to Johnny’s.”

In a split second, you find yourself yanked back by a forceful hand clutching onto your hair, causing a jolt of pain as a few strands give way. The grip on your hair intensifies, and you're forcefully dragged into your apartment, confined within its walls with a slam of the door. 

“Are you fucking—”, Ghost cuts you off with a rough palm over your mouth. Anger surges through your veins, nostrils flaring,  and you lift your arm to strike him when he uses the hand covering your mouth to slam your head against the wall— not too hard but with just enough strength to remind you of the position you’re in. Who you’re in here with.

“Hands to yourself, girl. You’d be pickin’ a fight you couldn’t even dream of winnin’.”

Maybe he had a suspicion that you’d test him again because he swiftly rotated you and fastened your wrists with zip ties behind you— before turning you around once again to face him.

How fucking dare he. Oh, if looks could kill. 

You give him the most hateful scowl you can muster, and he looks at you for just a second, almost mockingly. He lifts the mask to uncover his mouth and then tries to press his lips to your neck, but that’s not about to happen. You move your head and shoulder to prevent him from getting anywhere near,  when he moves his hand to fist your hair and yanks. You don’t know what made your eyes tear up. If it’s the stinging ache of your scalp or the twinge in your neck from how hard he pulled. It was silly of you to think he wouldn’t just take what he wants— he’s done it so far.

Ghost has the nerve to chuckle as if he didn’t almost break your neck.

“Don’t be dramatic, pet. If I wanted y’dead, you wouldn’t have even seen me coming.” 

Not realizing you spoke aloud, you’re about to purposefully speak your mind when his lips latch onto the delicate skin of your neck, sucking hard, to the point of pain. And he does it again, on the other side. The sting of his hickeys causes you to whimper, and you assume he likes the noise that involuntarily slips out of you because he grinds his clothed erection against your core while sucking a mark on the fluttering vein in your neck. 

Ghost pulls back, fist still in your hair, and rubs his thumb across the throbbing bruises as if admiring his work. “Hey,” and moves his shirt to reveal his neck— showing you a half dozen blotchy marks that his other conquests put there, and with mirth says, “We match.” 

You start thrashing at that, as best you can while being restrained, and the intense fury of why you even blocked him in the first place comes back to the forefront of your mind. 

“Get the fuck off of me!” you scream. You raise your leg to kick him when he readily grabs it, effortlessly lifting you off the floor. He lets your one leg hang over the arm he has sturdily planted on the wall before grabbing the other to do the same— and pins you flat with his hips, bulge pressed firmly against your cunt. Your arms ache with pain as they are ruthlessly pinned behind you against the wall, pulling a hiss of agony from you.

“Now, now,” he taunts, “There’s no need to get pissy over me sleeping with someone else. Y’asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend, lovie.” 

“Yeah,” you grit out, “You’ve made that clear enough, with your little flings Johnny told me about.” 

“Aw, and tha’s got your knickers in a twist, does it?” he grinds his hips, “Would you believe me if I said tha’ you’re the prettiest?”

You snort. “Piss off— and actually piss the fuck off. You can go get your dick wet with someone else.” 

“Why would I wanna do that when I got y’here spread open so willingly f’me?” and grinds his hips again. 

You were about to retort about the ‘willingly’ being questionable when he latches onto your skin again but this time, he sinks his teeth into the meat of your shoulder. Your nails dig into your palms, eyes welling with tears at the sharp pain of the bite. 

“Ah— stop, please stop” and it feels like he bites down even harder before finally relenting. His teeth come off your skin leaving behind a dark, angry purple imprint. 

“You sound so pretty when you beg, pet.”

Ghost looks up from the bite to your eyes and notices them glassy with unshed tears— licking off the ones that did spill. He trails soft stubbly kisses from your jawline to the corner of your mouth almost to coax it open. You wish you were a stronger person to resist his allure, but his mystique pulled you into his orbit. His touch ignited the spark in you to a flame, and you cave.

His mouth caresses yours open, your body melting against his. You let out little, breathy moans, and when he sloppily licked into your mouth, you caught his tongue and sucked— pulling the raunchiest, cunt-clenching sound you’ve ever had the pleasure of hearing. You let go of his tongue with a pop.

He moves his hands off the wall to dig into your arse and walks to your couch, putting your back to the cushions as he pulls off your pants. With a firm grip on your hips, he pulls you towards him, making you straddle his muscular thigh while his hands wrap around your waist, reaching for your bound wrists.

“I’ma take this off. I wouldn’t try hittin’ me again.” You feel a snap, the tingle of your blood rushing through the mark left by the zip tie, and shrug— in an attempt to ease some of the aches in your shoulders from being forcefully positioned for so long.

You side-eye the military pocket knife he used to cut the ties, wondering when he took it out— where he even hid it. Ghost leans forward to shrug off his leather jacket, pulls off his shirt while keeping his mask over his mouth, and tosses them to the other side of the sofa. You knew he was fit but seeing just how much made you a tad insecure. The separation of the muscle from the round of his shoulders to the bulge of his bicep, with the vein running along the bicep was mouthwatering. Strong vascular forearms, only one of them with a half sleeve. You can see the muscle striation of his full-looking pecs, his abs clear cut, obliques you could count with your fingers. Ridiculously fit, unlike yourself. Soft tummy, thick meaty thighs, and fleshy hips. He brings you out of your musing with a hard slap to your arse.

“Out of your head and back here w’me, eh?” he says while soothing the sting with his calloused hand. “I can feel how warm your cunt is through my jeans. Go on,” and lifts his hand to rub a thumb over your mound, “ride my thigh.”

The feel of your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans and his thumb rubbing firm circles on it has your pussy growing wet, leaving a damp spot behind on him. One hand grips you to push you through the motions, and you continue to roll your hips— chasing the friction you need. 

The circles he’s drawing turn slippery as the tension of your impending orgasm intensifies. Your legs start to shake as you stroke yourself on the length of his thigh and the steady roll of your clit under his thumb is about to make you break, your walls fluttering when Ghost pulls away— abruptly leaving you at the ledge, and it stings. 

“Y’didn’t think I was gonna just let you come with how bratty you’ve been?” and you let out an angry whine. “Open your mouth,” he orders.

Your tongue unsticks from the roof of your mouth as you do, and he shoves two of his long fingers into it, and curls them over your tongue— and you close your throat to prevent your gag reflex.

“Atta girl, love,” the smirk he gives is so irrationally smug, that you want to bite him. He puts both of his thighs in between your legs to spread you, letting him get a good look at your swollen, dripping cunt.

He pulls his fingers out glossy with your spit to rub them through your folds, then presses one, and then the other. He pushes to half the length of his fingers and curls, pushing directly on the sensitive patch of nerves. Ghost repeatedly presses against it, and the noises you and your cunt start to make are lewd, sloppy. 

Your pleasure starts to rise again, back to where he left you off with every precise drag of his fingers over your patch of nerves, your body feels like it’s radiating heat, your vision starting to go white when again, he leaves you hanging. Right at the fucking edge and you dry sob from how pleasurably painful it is. 

Ghost grabs your neck with a firm, wet grip and pulls your face to his, lips hovering over yours, breath mingling. 

“With me in you or none at all, pet,” and slaps your cheek, leaving behind a sticky residue. 

Quickly divesting himself of his jeans, he picks you up and takes you to the bedroom, where he watches you bounce on your mattress. He’s about to crawl over to you when you put your foot flat against his chest. 

“I’m not fucking you without a condom when you still have the evidence of your promiscuity on you.” 

He grabs that ankle and wraps it around him, lifting its twin to do the same, then places himself between your thighs— resting some of his body weight on you. 

“I never sleep with anyone without protection. You’d be the first in many years,” and you scoff at him. He grabs your jaw, cheeks squishing under his fingers, demanding eye contact. 

“I’m many things but a liar isn’t one of ‘em. You’ve done so well f’me, been so obedient. You’re the only one I want to feel without any barriers. ” 

This reminds you of how much of a bastard he is. Taking wheat and spinning it into gold, just to get what he wants. 

“And how many times has that line worked for you?” whimpering at the feel of his heavy cock rubbing against your wet cunt. 

“You’re the only one I wanna see my cum drip out of, pet. I swear it,” and he starts to push into you. Even being as drenched as you are, your cunt still struggles to take him. He gives one thrust and it reaches halfway before it stops— almost like it’s stuck. Ghost pulls out, cock slippery and creamy with your juices then pushes in again. It’s like a rock breaking the surface tension of still water— he sinks to the hilt.

It burns. It’s an ache and his length feels too large, too much, but hearing this typically silent behemoth of a man mumbling into your ear has you groaning at his depth. 

“Fuck, baby, fuckin’ hell sweetheart—”, the salacious groan in your ear makes you clench your gummy walls around his invasion. He moves slowly, giving a series of unhurried, languid thrusts. 

“I’m gonna make sure this tight cunt fits me and no one else,” and that has you thinking if he said that because of your upcoming date, but then with a soft slap to your cheek, he shifts— bringing himself to his knees. Ghost grabs the back of yours and pushes them to your ears. You’re bent in half, can barely breathe, and then he gives you a knowing smirk— with just one corner of his mouth lifted as the only warning before he pounds into you. 

Viciously.

Unsparingly.

Every thrust of his has the tip of his head firmly pressing into your cervix with an obscene squelch. The deep pinch you feel against your womb brings tears to your eyes. 

He’s merciless with how hard he fucks you, and you can’t do anything other than take it, thoroughly pinned under his body weight. Ghost then lets go of one leg to cover your mouth with his hand before angling his hips upwards— just a tad and the angle is so sharp he has you screaming. He must’ve known exactly what was gonna happen because he’s completely unfazed by how loud you’re being, just presses down on your mouth even harder.

“Keep taking it, pet, I know you can,” he growls out, but it feels like he’s actually rearranging your guts, so deep inside you can feel him in your throat. His rhythm is unrelenting, and the coil that Ghost has kept tightly wound all this time threatens to snap, and you’re sure it’s going to break you.

He hisses as he feels your cunt quivering around his cock, and he definitely knows what’s about to happen because he then slows his hips and cuts through your pleasure with his selfish demand.

“You tell Gaz that this weekend is cancelled and I’ll fuck you against that wall and let you come,” and you’re babbling out your surrender, jerky nods of your head. You’re okay with losing this battle because you’re winning this war unequivocally. 

Ghost pulls out aggressively, pulls you to the edge of the bed to position your ankles at his shoulder, and lifts— walking to the wall, pinning you. He slaps your arse before sliding back in again. 

“M’good girl has earned her reward, hasn’t she?” and with that, he lets spit dribble from his mouth to land on your clit. 

“Lemme see you touch yourself,” and resumes his thrusts, this time pushing directly into your sweet spot, again and again. You rub circles in rhythm with his thrusting, your body starting to seize. 

“Fuck, tha’s it, love, fuck me,” and he moans when the nails of your unoccupied hand dig into his shoulder. “Jesus, yeah, scratch me. Leave a mark— I wanna see you on me tomorrow,” and he starts to piston into you at a punishing pace, and he in combination with your fingers has you careening into one of the most, if not the most, overwhelming orgasm of your life. 

You tense, and with no control, actually scream out your peak. Wave after wave of blindingly brutal pleasure, nothing but a ringing in your ears and your limbs that violently tremble— relieving the ache that has been in between your thighs for weeks, from Ghost’s ruthless edging. 

The choking vice your cunt has on his cock sends him over, groaning out his climax. He’s grinding so deep in you that it just hurts, then thrusts himself into oversensitivity. 

He backpedals, taking you with him in his arms, and falls back onto your bed with a grunt. You’re rubbing the marks your nails left on his shoulders— just an imprint. Good. Then, you shift yourself upwards, straddling his ribcage to touch the lovebites. 

“You didn’t really think I’d leave a trophy for you to take home, did you?” and his dark eyes unblinkingly stare at you. Gazing right back, you say, “I won’t be a part of your collection.” But you’re not sure if you aren’t already, seeing as how it’s his cum dripping out of you and landing on his stomach. 

“But an agreement is an agreement,” and get up to grab your phone. Sending Gaz a quick text, you then turn the screen towards Ghost. 

Can’t see you this weekend, Gaz. Sorry:(

Oh, the belly laugh Ghost lets out at the response Gaz sent makes your face flush.

We talked about this, doll. Our date is next weekend. 

“Now I,” you get up, leaving Ghost lying on your bed with his spend drying on his belly, “am gonna go shower, and you can let yourself out. I asked for a fuck, not a boyfriend.”

As you saunter to your bathroom, you turn your head to end it with, “Seeing as how I won’t be needing you anymore, delete my number.” 

—

By the time you step out of your bathroom squeaky clean, your apartment is as if you didn’t get fucked within an inch of your life. Everything looked in order, bed comforter tucked with hospital corners— empty. Except your phone wasn’t where you left it. You walk over to pick it up and on the screen is a text from Ghost’s number. He unblocked himself and changed the name of his contact to Simon.

If you wanted exclusivity, all you had to do was ask, love. Tell Gaz to fuck off for good, I’ll see you soon.

You quickly run to your bathroom and slam the door closed. Squealing, you dial Gaz’s number. 

“Hello, doll,” his voice is low, as if he was asleep.

“It worked! We did it! We—” and you cut yourself off, “Wait, did I wake you?”

He chuckles and you can hear another deep male voice in the background. 

“OH! Oh. You weren’t sleeping! OK! Sorry! So sorry! I’m hanging up!” and press the end call button. 

To beat the player, you must first learn how to play the game.

Taglist: @comeonatmebruh @channelsoph @imasimpl0l @hellshire-harlot @mesyakee @leeeenistop @kerst666 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thychuvaluswife

[reveryfics]

not scott this time. waaa

bucky x reader with a prosthetic ?

any reason why reader would have it is fine (born without said limb, military service?, or reader is a type of supersoldier aswell).

just fluff,, bonding because of it. maybe angst ? insecurities would definitely play in it. aaa

🪲 anon

Connections

Bucky Barnes x Male Reader

Summary: You knew Sam from your military service, a connection that persisted even after your discharge due to the loss of your arm. Now, he'd somehow persuaded you to meet his friend, convinced the introduction would be beneficial.

A/N: How petty is it for me to get a little frustrated my Marvel fics do so much better then fics I put effort into? Anyway more dialog then planned, but enjoy.

TW: Fluff - Soft angst

The late afternoon hum within the coffee shop was a low, comforting drone, a stark contrast to the usual lunchtime rush. Sunlight slanted through the large front windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, thick with the rich, grounding aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the sweet, buttery scent of pastries just pulled from the oven. You had chosen a booth tucked away near the entrance, a strategic vantage point that allowed you to keep an eye on the door. The worn vinyl of the seat conformed to your posture as you cradled a lukewarm mug, the ceramic warming your hands. Your gaze, however, was fixed on the glowing screen of your phone, your thumb tracing and retracing the lines of Sam’s last text, a digital reassurance that his friend was indeed on his way.

A soft sigh escaped your lips, a quiet exhale of the anxiety that had been tightening its grip all afternoon. Almost unconsciously, your other hand tugged at the cuff of your jacket, smoothing the fabric down to completely conceal the cool, matte finish of the metal and composite of your prosthetic arm. A prickling sensation crawled across your skin, the unwelcome feeling of phantom eyes boring into you, of hushed whispers dissecting your difference. You shifted uncomfortably, the silence amplifying your self-consciousness, until the gentle chime of the bell above the door announced a new arrival.

Your head snapped up, a genuine, albeit small, smile blossoming on your face. There, framed in the doorway, was Bucky Barnes. He was instantly recognizable from Sam’s description – the broad shoulders, the intense gaze – though his hair was shorter than you’d pictured. A pleasant surprise, you thought, the neat cut suiting his strong features. You pushed yourself up from the booth, the lingering tension in your shoulders easing slightly as Bucky’s eyes scanned the room, finally locking onto yours. He offered a warm smile in return as he navigated the few steps towards your table.

“Hey,” he said, his voice a low, steady rumble, extending a hand in greeting.

“Hey,” you echoed, your own hand reaching out to meet his. The moment your hands met, a subtle awareness shifted in his eyes. His gaze flickered almost imperceptibly to the smooth, cool surface of your prosthetic where it met his palm. Understanding dawned in his expression, a quiet acknowledgment of something Sam had perhaps intentionally left unsaid. It clicked – the reason for this somewhat unconventional setup.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you offered, the words tumbling out a little faster than intended, a nervous energy propelling you. “My treat.”

“Oh, no, I can grab something,” Bucky replied, a polite refusal in his tone.

“It’s really no problem,” you insisted, needing the small task, the brief reprieve from the intensity of the initial meeting. He seemed to sense your underlying unease, the subtle tremor in your voice. Instead of arguing, a knowing look crossed his face.

“Alright,” he conceded gently. “I’ll take a coffee then. Black, if they have it.”

“Perfect,” you said, already turning towards the counter, the movement a welcome distraction. As you walked away, Bucky pulled out his phone, his thumb flying across the screen in a quick text to Sam: You uh… forgot to mention the arm.

The line at the counter was mercifully short. You ordered Bucky’s black coffee and impulsively asked for a refill of your own, the need for something to occupy your hands and calm the persistent flutter in your stomach overriding any concern about caffeine intake. Balancing the two steaming cups, you made your way back to the booth. You placed Bucky’s coffee in front of him and carefully set your fresh mug beside the nearly empty one you’d been nursing.

Bucky’s gaze fell on the discarded cup. “Sorry if I took too long,” he said, a hint of apology in his voice.

You waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, no, not at all. I was actually… incredibly early. Needed the caffeine to try and talk myself out of bolting.” A small, self-deprecating laugh escaped you.

Bucky let out a soft breath, a flicker of understanding in his eyes. “Okay,” he said quietly. “That… that makes a lot more sense now. Sam can be… subtle. Look, I’m not going to force you to stay, or even talk about… anything you don’t want to.”

You hummed in response, leaning back against the worn upholstery of the booth. “I appreciate that,” you said, meeting his gaze briefly before looking down at your new cup. “Honestly? If you don’t mind, I wouldn’t mind just… sitting in silence for a bit. Enjoying the company, so to speak.”

Bucky didn’t reply verbally, but the faint, reassuring smile that touched his lips spoke volumes. The comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the gentle clatter of mugs and the low murmur of conversations around you.

Eventually, Bucky’s voice, a low thrum that seemed to vibrate through the quiet hum of the coffee shop, cut through the stillness. “You were military?” he asked, his tone neutral, almost hesitant.

You looked up from the swirling dark liquid in your mug, surprised by the question. You hadn’t expected him to broach the topic, especially not so directly. “Yeah,” you replied, your voice a little rougher than you intended. “Yeah, I uh… I was.” It felt strange to say it aloud to a stranger, your military service a chapter you mostly kept closed, the focus having been on moving forward, on adapting to a life that was irrevocably changed. Only Sam knew the details, the stories you’d shared in the quiet intimacy of your friendship.

Bucky’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Sorry,” he murmured, his gaze dropping to his own cup. “I… I shouldn’t have brought that up.”

You shook your head, your hands coming up to rest on the tabletop, the cool ceramic a grounding presence beneath your fingertips. “It’s okay,” you said, meeting his eyes again. “I’m sure you had it way worse anyhow.” The words were out before you could fully process them, a reflexive attempt to deflect, to minimize your own experience in the face of his unspoken history.

A thoughtful silence fell between you. Bucky’s gaze was steady now, a quiet curiosity mingled with something akin to understanding. “The forties were… different,” he began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “No comparison to… whenever you served.”

You nodded, a small smile touching your lips as you thought back to your own boot camp experience. “Yeah, I can imagine. Though, some things are universal, I think. Like the sheer exhaustion. I remember meeting Sam… he was throwing up next to my bunk after our first full day of running in the desert heat. Looked like he was about to swear off physical activity for life.”

A genuine laugh rumbled in Bucky’s chest, a warm, unexpected sound that eased some of the remaining tension in the air. “Sounds about right,” he chuckled, a hint of amusement in his eyes. The shared moment of levity seemed to bridge a small gap between you.

The atmosphere shifted, becoming a little more comfortable, a little more open. Bucky’s expression turned slightly more serious. “Would you… would you be okay sharing what happened with your arm?” he asked, his voice gentle, respectful. “Only if you’re comfortable, of course.”

You hesitated for a moment, the question hanging in the air. It was still a raw subject, a constant reminder of a life irrevocably altered. But something about Bucky’s quiet sincerity, the unspoken understanding you sensed in him, made you nod. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Yeah, I can talk about it.”

You took a slow breath, the memory still vivid, still sharp despite the passage of time. “It was… deployment,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. The coffee shop noise seemed to fade into the background as the memory took hold. “We were on patrol, just outside the wire. Routine. That’s what they always said. Routine. And then… there was this deafening sound, a flash of light… and then… nothing. Just… pain. So much pain. When I woke up… it was gone.” Your voice cracked, the carefully constructed wall of composure momentarily crumbling. You could still feel the phantom ache, the ghost of a limb that was no longer there. The sterile white of the medical tent, the hollow, pitying stares of the medics, the crushing weight of the realization – it all flooded back. You swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump that had formed in your throat, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. “Just… gone.”

Bucky’s gaze was unwavering, filled with a profound empathy that mirrored the pain in your own heart. He knew that hollowness, that sudden, brutal absence. “I’m… I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice low and thick with emotion. “I understand… more than you know.”

You managed a weak smile, a watery acknowledgment of his words. “Yeah,” you said softly. “Yeah, I figured. I think… I think that’s why Sam set this up. We both… felt a little alone in it, you know?” A small, shaky laugh escaped you. “But… talking to you… it actually… it helps. It’s like… a weight has lifted, just a little.”

A genuine smile spread across Bucky’s face, softening the hard lines of his jaw. “I feel the same way,” he admitted, his eyes warm. He paused for a moment, a hopeful glint in his gaze. “Hey… would you maybe want to… go for a walk? Get some fresh air?”

A chuckle bubbled up from your chest, a lightness you hadn’t felt all day. “Yeah,” you said, pushing yourself up from the booth. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

The autumn air was crisp and cool against your skin as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. The late afternoon sun had begun its descent, casting long shadows that stretched and danced with each step. Leaves, in hues of fiery red, burnt orange, and golden yellow, crunched softly under your shoes as you and Bucky walked, an unspoken understanding guiding your aimless path. The sounds of the small town – the distant hum of traffic, the laughter of children playing in a nearby park – faded into a comfortable background noise. As dusk began to settle, painting the sky in shades of lavender and deep blue, you continued walking, the silence no longer charged with nervousness but filled with a quiet camaraderie.

Finally, Bucky broke the comfortable stillness. “I really enjoyed talking with you,” he said, turning his head slightly to meet your gaze. “Would you… would you want to do this again sometime?”

A genuine smile bloomed on your face. You turned to fully face him, the faint glow from a nearby streetlamp illuminating the warmth in your eyes. “I would love to,” you replied, the words honest and heartfelt.

A mutual smile lingered in the twilight between you, a silent agreement hanging in the cool evening air. The streetlights flickered to life, casting a soft, yellow glow on the sidewalk ahead. You fell back into a comfortable silence, the earlier anxieties replaced by a sense of unexpected ease. The crunch of fallen leaves beneath your feet became the soundtrack to your shared walk, each step in sync without conscious effort.

As you rounded a corner, the scent of woodsmoke hung faintly in the air, a nostalgic aroma that spoke of cozy evenings and crackling fireplaces. A gentle breeze rustled the remaining leaves on the trees, creating a soft, whispering sound. Bucky tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket, his gaze drifting towards the darkened windows of the houses you passed.

"It's beautiful here," he commented quietly, his voice a low murmur against the backdrop of the evening. "The colors of the leaves... it reminds me of a time I almost forgot."

You glanced at him, intrigued. "A good memory, I hope?"

A faint, melancholic smile touched his lips. "Complicated," he admitted. "But… yeah. There was a certain beauty to it, even then." He didn't elaborate, and you sensed it wasn't a story he was ready to share, and you respected that unspoken boundary. You knew what it was like to hold stories close, guarding them against the casual curiosity of the world.

You shifted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. "Autumn has always been my favorite," you said, your gaze drawn to the vibrant hues that still clung to some of the branches. "It feels like… a letting go, but also a promise of something new. A quiet kind of strength."

Bucky nodded slowly, his eyes thoughtful. "I can see that," he murmured.

You walked on in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, the rhythm of your steps a soothing presence. You noticed a small park ahead, the swings swaying gently in the breeze, the slide gleaming faintly under the streetlight.

"Do you want to maybe… sit for a bit?" you suggested, gesturing towards a nearby bench.

"Yeah, that sounds good," Bucky agreed.

You settled onto the cool metal of the bench, the night air a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the coffee shop. The park was deserted, lending a sense of peaceful solitude to the moment. The only sounds were the gentle creaking of the swings and the distant hum of the city.

Bucky leaned back against the bench, his gaze fixed on the star-dusted sky that was beginning to deepen into a velvety black. "You know," he said after a while, his voice soft, "Sam… he's a good friend."

"He is," you agreed, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of your steadfast companion. "Sometimes… a little too… enthusiastically helpful." A small smile played on your lips. "But always with the best intentions."

Bucky chuckled softly. "Yeah, I've gathered that. He can be… persistent."

"That's one word for it," you laughed quietly. "But I wouldn't trade him."

Another comfortable silence settled between you, this one feeling even more natural, more connected than before. You both seemed content to simply exist in each other's presence, sharing the quiet beauty of the autumn night.

After a while, Bucky turned to you, his expression earnest. "So," he began, a hint of a smile in his eyes, "about doing this again… are you thinking… coffee again? Or maybe something… less caffeinated?"

You met his gaze, a genuine warmth blossoming in your chest. "I'm open to suggestions," you replied, your smile mirroring his. "Though, I have to admit, your company was far more stimulating than the coffee."

A soft laugh escaped him, a genuine, unguarded sound that made your heart do a little flutter. "Well then," he said, his eyes twinkling slightly in the dim light, "how about we skip the coffee altogether next time? Maybe… dinner? If you're up for it."

The suggestion hung in the air, a tangible possibility that felt both exciting and surprisingly natural. You didn't hesitate.

"I'd like that very much, Bucky," you said, your voice sincere.

He smiled, a genuine, open smile that reached his eyes. "Great," he said, a sense of anticipation in his tone. "How about… Friday?"

"Friday sounds perfect," you agreed, a feeling of lightness washing over you. The loneliness that had been a constant companion for so long seemed to have receded, replaced by a flicker of something hopeful, something new. As you stood up from the bench, the cool night air no longer felt isolating, but rather, a shared space under the vast, star-filled sky. You walked back towards the main street with Bucky, the crunch of leaves under your feet a gentle reminder of the unexpected beauty that could be found in the quiet moments of connection.

[elizaleclerc]

begin again 🤍

"you throw your head back laughing like a little kid"

cowboy charles? yeah, cowboy charles.

summary: country singer! reader performs at the austin gp and meets a special someone (charles cough cough)

songs: all the ones mentioned! very fearless, red, and speak now coded but with a sabrina face claim (idk this is just inside my head at the moment)

word count: 2k+

author's notes: little bit of writing little bit of smau i just hadd to write this idea ok enjoy bye

The hired makeup artist carefully applied the finishing touches to your already flawless makeup, making sure every contour and highlight was perfect before you took the stage in Austin, Texas. The bright lights of the venue glinted off your shimmery eyeshadow and glossy lips, adding an extra sparkle to your already sparkling presence. It was the celebration party of the Austin Grand Prix, and thousands of people had gathered outside the gates, eagerly awaiting your performance.

In the VIP area, some of the most famous drivers in the world were among the crowd, lending an air of excitement to the event. As an up-and-coming country artist, it was both nerve-wracking and thrilling to be chosen to perform at such a prestigious afterparty. You took a deep breath and checked your mic pack one last time, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

You had loosely followed Formula One throughout the years, but actually being here for a Grand Prix was an insane feeling, nonetheless being the performer for the afterparty. You loosely assumed that most of the drivers would be mingling amongst themselves and around the tented bar in the VIP area, so you tried to not think too hard about their eyes on you.

The familiar sound of your introduction filled the air, followed by the lively instrumentals to your opening song. As you stepped onto the stage, a wave of enthusiastic cheers and applause greeted you. It was both exhilarating and nerve-wracking to be performing in front of such a large crowd. With each note that left your lips, your voice rang out smooth as silk, carrying all the emotions and energy of your songs. The audience seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves, singing and dancing along to every beat. As you finished your first song, “Mr. Perfectly Fine”, you could feel their excitement growing even more as you moved into your newest single, “We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together”.

The melody of this song was the reason why you were taking the stage in Austin tonight. It had taken on a life of its own and had become your most beloved and recognizable tune to date. As you belted out the lyrics, you could feel the crowd's energy amplify with each note. Caught up in the moment, you finally took a glance at the VIP section directly in front of the stage. To your surprise, instead of disinterested faces, you saw the group of drivers nodding along and some even singing along to every word. This strange occurrence both bolstered your confidence and ignited a wave of nervousness within you. How could it be that these individuals, who were undoubtedly accustomed to hearing chart-topping hits from the biggest names in the music industry, knew every single word to your song?

As you performed on stage, your eyes couldn't help but be drawn to one particular driver in the crowd. His intense gaze had been fixed on you since the beginning of your performance. You recognized him as Charles Leclerc, a skilled driver for Ferrari. With each song on your setlist, you found yourself stealing glances at him, and it seemed like he couldn't take his eyes off you either. Even as you sang "I Knew You Were Trouble," he remained transfixed with a slight smirk on his lips, and when you transitioned into "Fearless," he mumbled along to the lyrics. It was like there was an unspoken connection between the two of you, intensified by the energy and lights of the concert arena.

After finishing your setlist, you finally retreated backstage, feeling the reverberations of the music coursing through your body. The DJ was now setting up for the remainder of the party, but you had a little bit of time to mingle amongst the VIP section before heading back to your hotel for the night. Your heart was still pounding with adrenaline from your performance, and being surrounded by famous drivers only added to the rush. A few of them complimented you on your set and you shared brief conversations with them, feeling a sense of camaraderie in this elite group. Finally, you made your way to the sleek bar counter to quench your thirst with a crisp drink. As you stood there, taking in the glamorous scene around you, a subtle presence appeared next to you, catching your attention.

The deep, rich tones of Charles's accent filled your ears as you turned to face him. His presence felt warm and inviting, drawing you in. A small smile played on your lips as he asked, "Can I buy your drink?”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his boldness, "I guess I'll let you.”

As the thumping beat of the music pulsed through the air, Charles moved a few inches closer to hear you better. His eyes were intense and captivating, causing a slight heat to rise to your cheeks. Trying to hide your blush, you hoped the darkness of the night would conceal it.

"You put on quite a show," he said with a hint of admiration in his voice. Despite your attempt to remain composed, your cheeks grew even warmer at his compliment. But the dim lighting provided some cover for your embarrassment.

You shrugged, “It’s my job I guess.” The bartender handed your drink to you and Charles handed him his card to pay. “You had quite a drive today.” You sipped your drink while maintaining eye contact with him, and a smirk spread on his face. It was only polite for you to compliment the winner of the Grand Prix.

“Well, that’s my job.” He chuckled, “but, thank you.” Silence fell between the two of you for a few moments, but it was comfortable. Almost as if he was an old friend you were catching up with. “So, what got you into music?” He asked casually.

“Um well, my boyfriend told me that I could sing pretty well and I loved writing songs, so I just bought a guitar and put all of the pieces together.” You explained, feeling the slight buzz from your drink.

“Boyfriend?” Charles cocked his head curiously and your face flushed.

“Sorry- he’s not my boyfriend anymore.” You laughed nervously, “Just a slip-up I guess. We broke up about 3 weeks ago.”

“Ah, I see.” Charles nodded, “I guess that’s where your chart topping song comes into play.” You smiled to yourself, why was Charles Leclerc keeping up with your success?

“Yes, that seems to be the natural progression of things. My greatest inspiration is people who have wronged me.” You said nonchalantly. Charles threw his head back in laughter, which caused you both to stir in a fit of laughs.

For the next hour, you and Charles sat at the bar, your words mingling with the clink of glasses and murmur of other patrons. Despite the occasional interruption from curious drivers, your attention remained fully fixed on the man before you. His every gesture, expression, and word was captivating, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. However, as much as you wanted to stay lost in conversation with him, you knew that you needed to head back to your hotel soon. In just two days, you would be performing on a late night talk show - a career milestone that required all of your focus and preparation.

Charles leaned in, his voice earnest yet hesitant as he spoke. "I know we both lead busy lives, but...I would love to keep in touch with you," he said, catching you off guard with his sincerity. Your cheeks flushed at the realization that maybe all those small flirts from Charles throughout the night weren't just in your head. The possibility of something more between you and him sent a flutter through your heart.

“Yeah, I would love that.” You nodded and handed him your phone so he could put his number in.

“And who knows, maybe one day I’ll get a song about me. But for good reasons obviously.” He joked which made you giggle like a child.

“Hmm, we’ll see. Goodnight, Charles.” You bid him goodbye and he watched as you turned to head to the backstage area where a car would drive you to your hotel. You smiled like a little kid the whole drive back, replaying every word and every little movement.

yourname austin you gave me so much love last night <3 im so grateful for this life!! and forza ferrari (am i saying that right??)

liked by yourbff, charlesleclerc, scuderiaferrari, and others

-user0926 omg i knew y/n would be a ferrari fan

-user5043 MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING

-user4558 liked by charles oh its soooo over 😭

-user3408 charles in the likes i repeat CHARLES IN THE LIKES

charlesleclerc An Austin GP win and an incredible afterparty. Cheers!

liked by landonorris, yourname, f1, and others

-user7224 stop it did he take his own pic of y/n?? are yall seeing what im seeing????

-yourname what a drive charles!!!

user3789 y/n what do you know

user2195 pls pls pls let this be real

-maxverstappen1 could barely celebrate with him bc he was chatting someone up all night.

user5904 MAX???

user3350 MESSYYY OMG WHO??

landonorris you've got them all riled up now

yourname here's a new song ive been messing around with. enjoy <3

(video IG STORY of y/n singing the first verse and chorus of enchanted)

TWITTER:

-user2958 did anyone notice that in y/n ig story she's literally singing a song ab meeting charles in austin or am i going crazy

user5409 i fear we've lost the plot

user3106 no no i see the vision. u MIGHT be onto something

user7074 wait didn't y/n have a bf?? or did they breakup?

user1513 they've been broken up for a couple weeks now, she wrote wanegbt about him!

user9543 wait what is the acronym-

user2218 we are never ever getting back together 😭

yourname what a pleasure it was to perform on late night AHHH pinch me im dreaming

liked by charlesleclerc, thelatenightshow, f1, and others

-user5943 anyone else wondering why the f1 account liked this post?? 😭

user6784 charles is running it dw!

yourname LMFAO 💋

user6784 Y/N?? TELL US WHAT U KNOW PLS

-user9234 shes a star omggg

-user2904 y/n biggest artist of the year im calling it!!

-user5382 y/n might make me start liking country music what

user1843 as if you could even call her music country music be fr

PEOPLE MAGAZINE: Y/n's Rise to Fame and the Gray Area of Country Music

For the past two months the internet has fallen for country music's latest star, Y/N. While it may appear all sunshine and roses for the young blooming star, every rose has its thorns. After making an appearance at the Formula One Grand Prix in Austin, Texas, her fanbase has skyrocketed. She's even appeared on Late Night, and is rumored to release her first album soon.

But many country music fans criticize Y/N's style of music, stating that it's actually not country music at all. They have distasted the way she dresses, noting that the only thing that makes her country is her hometown and the alleged "fake accent" that she sings with.

yourname back to my roots in nashville <3 missing everyone so much but thank you for the love recently. while i keep working on new music, here's a single to hold you over. nothing new is out now!!

liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, sonymusic, and others

-user2943 the hate she gets is so undeserved, what a beautiful song <3

-user1158 WE LOVE U!!!

-user4857 new artists should not have to recieve this much hate no matter WHAT genre. we love u :,)

-charlesleclerc beautiful mon amour 🤍

user6729 WOAH UM

user3875 Y/N CHARLES SOFT LAUNCH PAUSE-

user8472 the lesbians 4 y/n lost something today 💔

*four months later*

yourname happy to announce my first album, begin again, will be yours so soon!! what a whirlwind these past few months have been but i wouldn't have it any other way 🤍 here's to new beginnings

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, yourbff , and others

-user5728 OMG I NEED THIS ALBUM NOW

-user9674 i just know these are the best 14 songs ever

-charlesleclerc safe to say im really pumped

yourname you should be 6 of the songs are about you

user5736 WHAAATFHGJG

user2756 SIX?? like one two three four five SIX???

charlesleclerc WORLD CHAMPION. Ever since I joined F1 I dreamed of having a driver's championship trophy, and now I've got it. Thank you to everyone on this team and everyone's who has supported my career. Til next season, forza Ferrari sempre. ❤️

liked by yourname, f1, scuderiaferrari, and others

-yourname i couldn't be prouder ❤️ love u

-yourname ok now come home i miss u

-user4756 YASSS CHARLES!!!

-user2636 y/n and charles pretty much confirmed, charles wdc and y/n's album. guys we are literally WINNING rn.

-user2734 "FORZA FERRARI" we all said in unison.

TWITTER:

yourname SURPRISE!! tickets for the begin again one night only show are up for grabs now!!!! join me for one night in nashville as i perform my newest album :,) see u soon 💋

yourname thank you to everyone who came out for the begin again one night only show <3 performing the whole album start to finish was so perfect and i hope everyone's been enjoying the music. until next time 🤍

liked by charlesleclerc, maxverstappen1, yourbff, and others

-user2736 guys i was there and the amount of times she mentioned her "partner" was so 😭 like we didn't all know she was talking ab charles i love them

-charlesleclerc my girl's a star ❤️

-user5793 so i can confirm so many songs are about charles its so perfect. enchanted made me cry

-user2741 i need to know what charles's favorite song is

charlesleclerc it's timeless

user2741 I KNEW IT

-user8573 charles can you fight ?!?!?!?

yourname i watched it begin again <3

liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, yourbff, and others

-user3782 cowboy charles. the universe is aligned

-user1773 IM SOBBING I LOVE THEM 😭

-user8354 may a love like this find me (pls im begging actually)

-user1938 and the crowd is?...oh the crowd is sobbing

-charlesleclerc the most perfect girl ever

yourname i love u 💋

user2845 i love both of you

*four years later*

Charles is a three time world champion and you've toured around the world twice with two released albums. You are one of the most popular artists in the world, and Charles has been by your side the whole time. You've accompanied him to his races when you can, and have even befriended some of the other drivers. This life couldn't be more perfect.

charlesleclerc and yourname no one i would rather share the rest of my life with. here's to forever mon amour 🤍💍

liked by landonorris, yourbff, f1, and others

-landonorris I've watched this love story bloom from the very beginning. Congrats you two!

yourname love u lan <3

-maxverstappen Congratulations! I can't think of two people more fit for each other ❤️

charlesleclerc ❤️❤️

-user2754 they got ENGAGED and MARRIED and didnt tell us...iconic.

-user6843 COUPLE OF THE CENTURYYY

-user0854 they are so endgame like truly no one can compete

~~~~~~

author's note pt.2 :

TYSM for reading! i did nawtttt intend for this to end up this long and literally hit the max number of images but...anywhooo

let me know if you want to see more things like this from me! my inbox is open <3

xoxo , eliza 🤍

[motherstone]

Amulet 17th Anniversary

To show our appreciation for the beloved children’s series, Amulet, I’m organizing a fan collab where you submit a canon amulet character to be put in a compiled group photo!

What’s the idea?

The idea is that to have 17 artists to submit a fan work:

a.) The Amulet character is to be randomly assigned to the applicants.

b.) Ideally digital art in png/transparent, no background, so it can be easily edited. Traditional art may be allowed as long as you make sure to have a good scanner or photos with scanner quality.

c.) A character’s appearance doesn’t have to be fully canon accurate, thus can be drawn in how you interpret them, but has to be recognizable as that character, and is not depicted in explicit/nsfw/offensive caricatures.

d.) Dimensions should be at minimum 1500 px or 5 inches.

e.) Character must be drawn in full body and in an upright position.

How to apply?

Email me on librarium13@gmail.com in this format:

Username:

Account: (the account you want to be tagged in once the compiled image is posted)

End of application period (May 30, 11:59 pm @ UTC/GMT)

Applicants will get their randomly assigned character on May 31st.

In the scenario that the application slots have been filled up, those who applied but didn’t get a slot will be assigned as pinch-hitter (with their consent).

Please do not DM me outside of emails after the application period is over.

What’s a pinch-hitter?

Pinch hitters are applicants who we have on a waiting list if a contributor were to drop out. You can opt in to be a pinch hitter during the application process (and are at liberty to refuse if we ask you to participate.)

When is the deadline?

Starting June 1, you will get approximately two months to create then submit your work. Final submissions are to be on July 28. Taking into consideration that real life can get unpredictable and busy, If someone is unable to meet the deadline for whatever reason, you can email me, and I’ll bring in one of the pinch-hitters.

A progress check-in will take place on July 1 - this is the final date for an applicant to drop out to allow pinch-hitters time of their own to create their submissions. Please do NOT opt out last minute when the deadline is within two week or less, as it’s unfair to the pinch-hitters. Proof of progress is to be sent via email.

SCHEDULE:

May 24: Open Applications

May 30: Close Applications

May 31: Character assignment

June 1: Start of Process

July 1: Progress check. Final date an applicant can drop out

July 28: Final submissions

July 30: Posting day.

Open slots: 17

I would like to emphasize that this is a fan collab for fun, not profit, and anyone can join if they want to. It’s no pressure. I myself would just be the organizer and editor, not a participant ^_^ I hope people will have fun! For further questions, feel free to send a message!