#rises from the dead... hello

[ncardaesthetics]

Happy (Late) Birthday, Iruka Suda! (02.18.25)

♒︎ "I feel like this little talk really opened my eyes. Make sure you come cheer for the newly-awakened Iruka Suda!"

[bowshaowow]

0402

[acekindaneat]

HAPPY FIRST DAY OF SERIZAWA WEEK!!!!!!

what flavor of ice cream do you think they'd get? 🤔 🍦❓

(click for better quality!)

[virtualizedvoid]

hello vee nation. *hands u my vee design*

[moonrat95]

💫✨💜

[starryyskies]

JAYYYYY IS MEEEEEE MOONIEEEEEEEE

GIRL I BEEN MISSING OUT A LOTTTT I'M SO SO SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING SO SUDDENLY BUT TUMBLR'S BEEN BAD TO ME THEY WON'T LET ME REPLY AND WON'T SOLVE MY CASE FOR MONTHS AUGH

Anyways sending hugs and loves for ya dudesy :'))

ITS SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN MOONIE <3333

[zillaphoneswag]

I swear I’m not dead, I’ve just been taking some time off. I was pushing myself too hard to finish fic after fic to the point where the quality was going down. I absolutely was not prepared for the love i would get from our community or the appreciation for my work, so I won’t lie when I say I was a bit overwhelmed by that (in a good way). But give me a bit to catch up on the latest vids and who knows, maybe in a week or two you’ll see a new fic ;)

[starfala-dragons]

In celebration of getting my missing button eye vial in the mail i've bought a dragon specifically for it! Meet Buttons hes going to be so expensive pray for me

[em-dualism]

🎃HELLO GHOSTS AND/OR GHOULS!🎃

You have been randomly selected for this years All Hallows Eve Wing-Ding. If you wish to partake in the seasonal fun, then please see below for the "costumes" available to you at this time. Select one and YOU'RE DONE! This promotion spans until November 1st, where all changes will henceforth be rescinded. Please tag all posts with "#Halloween Event". Disregard if there is no desire to participate.

WeAreNotHeldResponsibleForAnyDuress,Physical,OrEmotionalyInclinedToOurProducts.SideEffectsMayInclude,ButAreNotLimitedTo;ChangesInAppetite,Stature,MoralAlignment,Vision,Heliophobia,Anthropophobia,Nausea,ExtraOrReductionOfLimbs,BloodLust,Etc.UsersDiscressionAdvised.

PLEASE CHOOSE ONE TO PARTICIPATE:

Swamp Creature

Vampire

Slime

"...Huh."

Pat had been staring at this message for a bit now. 'Confused' was an understatement to how he felt, not the least of the reason being because he rarely ever got messages in the first place.

This has the energy of those stupid 'answer these questions to find out what bird you are' quizzes or whatever. But there's not even any questions.

"Yeah..." he mumbled. "Hey, didn't we want to try a swamp creature kinda costume once? I figured it wouldn't be too hard to put together but we never got around to it. I think we'd look right at home covered in moss... haha."

That was one of the few ideas you pitched I didn't think was lame! I could grab people and freak them out.

"...Thanks for the vote of confidence."

Well, he might as well give his input to the message. If he was lucky, it'd be some kind of Matter Wave outfit giveaway, and if not, he's making sure not to give any personal info.

[petalruined]

i'm  really  feeling  fantasy  vibes  ...  think  :  found  family,  random  group  of  rugrats  /  misfits  on  a  mission,  touch  her  and  you  die,  enemies  to  friends  to  lovers  <33  

i've  got  sm  muse  so  like  this  if  you'd  like  a  little  something  from  me  along  those  lines  !

[wokasho]

I would honestly love to write adult!Sakura simply to have an excuse to make more icons of her xD

[springintosummerxx]

❀ downbad for you ❀

op81 x reader

in which oscar changes in little and big ways. aka oscar's downbad for you

warnings: suggestive, fluff, bit of pining, humour

word count: 1.9 k

masterlist

nicole piastri was not an impatient woman. she raised four kids, all of them talented, intelligent and painfully oblivious in some way or another.

so when oscar had started travelling on his own and barely - rarely - picked up phone calls or checked texts, she learned to wait for him to come to her. very reasonable, in her opinion.

but when she called him, early in the morning hoping to catch him before a sprint race, she was surprised to find that he actually picked up.

"hello?" he asked, tone a little eager and not it's usual monotone.

"oscar," she replied, a little startled.

"oh. hey, mum." he answered absentmindedly.

now she was suspicious, "why are you answering your calls all of a sudden?"

"didn't you call me?" he asked, with that born-nonchalance that made her want to rip her hair out sometimes.

"yeah, just checking in. everything good for the weekend?"

"sure, everything's fine. listen mum, i'm actually waiting on another call. i'll call you again after the sprint, okay? thanks."

then her own son, the one she'd painfully pushed - okay, that was a bit gross, but she was a little offended.

then it clicked.

the question she should be asking, instead of rolling her eyes over her firstborn's antics, is who is he waiting on?

nicole calls hattie next, who answers reliably on the first ring.

"is your brother seeing someone?"

"woah, mum. hello to you too," her eldest daughter huffs, "and yes, i think so."

she nearly jumps up in excitement, "who?"

"that, i have no idea. but he's been answering his texts so quick lately, and he asked me about what flowers were suitable for a first date."

"finally," nicole sighed, and then perking up, "when do you think he'll bring her home?"

lando is staring at oscar as he puts on suncream.

he looks so...serious, squeezing out lotion from a bottle that looks way too tiny in his hands, concentrating on the thin white lines that coat three of his fingers.

"what?" he then is rubbing it into his face, and lando is scared.

"mate, what the fuck?"

"i'm protecting my skin," the australian answers, straight-faced.

he is 100% sure he's never seen oscar put on sunscreen, ever. especially not in the middle of the day, right between filming videos outside.

it's probably a good idea, if they don't want to get sunburnt; oscar, especially, with his pale complexion.

and who is lando to judge? he used to love it when his ex-girlfriend's did his skincare or forced him to exfoliate - wait.

before he can think through what he's going to say, he blurts, "do you have a girlfriend?"

oscar stares at him, and the faint, pink blush that's rising from his neck is enough of an answer.

"oh, my days you do!" he gasps. oscar shakes his head, the corners tipping up despite himself.

lando watches him, half-disgusted and half-proud.

his teammate has an absolutely shit-eating grin on his face, eyes bright. he leans back in the chair, looking dorky in his team kit and a little bit of sunscreen not blended in at his jaw.

lando could say with full confidence, after watching oscar not flinch at turns or crashes, that this reaction means that he is in love.

the first time oscar brings you around (and hard-launches both of you to the moon) is during the miami gp.

the two of you, your smaller hand tucked into the crook of his arm, make your way across the green turf of the paddock.

he's aware of the cameras and eyes; it's kind of hard not to be, but he doesn't mind like he usually does.

it's probably gross and neanderthal, and he will definitely deny it if you bring it up, but he's so proud to have you on his arm.

the two of you met a months ago, in monaco, where you were starting the second year of your doctorate degree.

you were (and are, in his opinion) way too smart for him, drop-dead gorgeous with a dry sense of humour.

although monaco was known for hosting f1 drivers you weren't super well-versed in the sport.

he likes that about you, and even more the way you ask him to tell you about it as you run your fingers through his hair, when the two of you are out on a date in some little cafe.

"okay?" he murmurs, and you squeeze your fingers around his bicep once.

"hmm," he can tell you're a little overwhelmed by the crease between your brows that he smoothes out with his thumb, "m'okay."

the little yellow sundress you're wearing makes your skin glow under the florida sun, and he wants to press his nose to your shoulder.

"it'll get better when we're not-"

"hard-launching at one of your races? you sure go big or go home, baby."

however many times you use that nickname, whether in the early morning when you're bribing him with coffee or hushed as he presses himself into you late at night, it never fails to make him flush.

it sounds so pretty from your lips, so personal and intimate his stomach lurches still when he hears that pet name.

"yeah," he laughs, "can't help it though. want to show you off."

this time, it's your turn to be flustered.

he can't believe someone as put together and elegant as you turns into a pile of mush for someone as unromantic as him.

but perhaps he's changed, he thinks as you twist your mouth and brush a hand over your sun and love-warmed cheeks.

"god, oscar. you can't say things like that. i'm going to turn into a liquid."

"a very beautiful liquid," he offers, his free hand grabbing the yours that's tucked into his elbow.

he moves you to his other side, the one closer to the cafés and motorhomes as more people start flooding into the paddock.

"c'mere," he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your forehead.

normally, he would be against any sort of pda. but you look so relaxed under the sun, skin glowing as you watch him behind a pair of sunglasses that he can't help himself.

oscar hears the shutters of cameras, and he rests his cheek on yours.

"love you," he grins boyishly.

"love you, baby. good luck."

he wants a real kiss, one that makes you whimper the way he likes, but he's pushed his luck enough.

someone from the team leads you to the back of the garage to find a headset.

later that night, when the both of you are laying in bed, faces damp with skincare, he comes across an edit of you on tiktok.

there's some thirst-trappy song in the back and an annoying filter that makes everything a bit blurry, but he watches it three times anyways.

the first clip is of you in the garage, standing towards the back, fingers fluttering over your papaya headset. you look serious (though he thinks you do look a little confused, adorably so) with your eyes locked on the t.v. broadcasting his onboard.

the little skysports banner pops up, citing you as his partner.

oscar piastri's partner, it reads in block letters.

his heart warms in his chest, and he has to rub at it because of how intense he feels for you; you are so much more than that, and he can't wait for people to realize.

the next clip is you with alexandra, who you knew from someone's neighbor. or cousin. monaco was small, after all.

the two of you are laughing, striding with leo between your legs.

lastly, oscar watches with attentive eyes as the videos of you and him together come up.

it's undeniable that you guys look good together; he's smiling more than he probably has, ever, and you look up at him, adoringly as you blend some smeared sunscreen under his ear.

the sound of the tiktok has repeated four times by then, and you slide yourself into his embrace, wiggling up his chest.

he tilts his phone to you so you can see, and you bury your face in his neck.

"help," your breath warm on his skin, "i'm being perceived."

he laughs, pulling you up to kiss him, for real on the mouth, "thank you. for coming with me."

"of course," you say, a little surprised at how sincere he sounds, "anytime, baby."

now it's his turn to bury his face into your neck.

"he's never like this," hattie tells you.

"what?" you ask, smiling as your boyfriend's sister hands you a drink.

"he's so...touchy. it would be kind of gross, if you guys weren't so cute."

"yeah," edie pipes in, sipping her own drink, "it's freaky. unnatural."

"are you talking about me?" oscar asks drily as he slides into the seat next to yours.

frowning at the distance in between your chair and his, he wraps one large hand around the leg of yours and tugs until you're close enough for his to rest his arm to loop behind you.

mae shudders comically, just as edie pretends to gag. hattie hoots in laughter.

oscar, cheeks pink, unabashedly rolls his eyes as his parents take their seats around the table in their backyard.

it's nice seeing him in his natural habitat, teasing his sisters, helping his mum carry dishes to the dining table.

you insist on helping nicole wash up after dinner, and as you dry the dishes she hands you, she says something you don't expect.

"thank you," she tells you, "for taking care of him."

before you can respond, she goes on, "he's never been too good at taking care of himself. you know, he used to put his washing in the oven?"

you laugh, imagining oscar, on the cusp of adulthood, crouched over a oven with wet socks in his hands.

"but i can tell he's been well. so, thank you."

you blush, "i don't think it's anything to do with me."

she snorts, an easy smile on her face as she nudges you with her shoulder, "he's been calling more, he's eating well. i don't think he's been sunburnt or gone without fresh laundry for months."

you hum, "he takes care of me too, and i should thank you for raising a good man."

"i've got to stop leaving you alone with my family members." oscar sidles next to you, peering at his mum.

she brushes your cheek and pats his shoulder before wandering off to find his sisters.

"hi," he whispers into your hair, turning you around so he can crowd you into the kitchen counter.

"hi, baby."

he groans, burying his face into your neck. you feel him press a kiss to your shoulder, and you grin.

"okay?" you ask quietly.

"more than okay," he responds, smile content and squinty, "it's nice. to see you here, with my family. they love you."

"i love them," caressing his cheek, you press a kiss to his nose.

"this is probably weird for them," he hums, leaning into your hand, "to see me like this."

"i'm not going anywhere, so i think they'll get used to you being all gross and down bad."

"not downbad," oscar mutters, wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug and swaying the two of you back and forth, "just in love."

"downbad," you giggle, and he doesn't disagree, not when it makes you smile, so lovingly and soft at him.

maybe he is downbad.

[jcdiism]

/

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

To Be Wooed

I blacked out and wrote this. This is so silly to me.

Enjoy!

Look Danny didn't mean to kill the Joker it was an honest mistake, he was still recovering from escaping the GIW and whatever they had used on him had still been in effect when he honest to Ancients ran into the fake clown.

Of course it doesn't look like an accident with how he left the Joker

But it was!

Really it really was!

Whatever the GIW did was out of his system, but that still left a very dead and coreless Joker.

Yeah...apparently Joker had a core, but not anymore because he ate it like it was pop rock candy, if the weird cousin spicy version of it. He still feels like he has some of it stuck in his teeth.

Anyways! Not the point!

Joker! Very dead at his feet, what is he supposed to do-

THUMP

Oh Ancients he's going to die again that's the Red Hood!

"Uh...I can explain, well not really. But it was an accident! I promise and-"

"You killed him?"

"I'm really sorry? He bumped into me, it was an accident I swear!"

"Go on a date with me."

WHa-what?! Did he just hear correctly why would he ask him out out of nowhere it made no sense and..oh.

Red Hood's been touched by Death not like him but enough to count, and enough to have some ghostly instincts.

Okay ghostly courting he can do that, he totally can, no sweat!

Shit who is he kidding he may have the instincts but he was never actually taught how he's supposed to use them or anything.

Well he's always been good at making it up as he goes, and at least his instincts will help push him in the right direction.

So he should just do what feels natural to him.

"Yes I'll go out with you. If I were to make jewelry and knives out of his bones would you accept them?"

"...For me to wear and use. Yes."

~

Danny freaking out about just killing and kinda eating someone: I'm in so much trouble!

Jason behind him fixing his appearance: "Well hello there handsome come by here often?"

~

Joker bumping into Danny: "ahAHA you will make a good experiment!"

Danny is high as a kite and getting the munchies: "I didn't know I could order food with my mind!"

Joker: "Whut-"

~

Jason seeing Danny absolutely wrecking Jokers shit: *Ghost Instincts Activated*

~

Jason falling fast for Danny without even knowing his name: "Can I pretty please kiss you?"

Danny realizing what's going on but still being clueless: "Does that mean you will accept these gifts made from Jokers bones?"

Jason's Ghost Instincts rising to a fever pitch: "I'm going to woo the fuck out of ya and then we'll get married then we'll fu-"

~

Danny's Ghostly Instincts being connected to his 'Protection' & Jason's to his 'Revenge' showing these kind of specific gestures towards them is incredibly romantic.

~

Jason and Danny's relationship basically:

~

~

~

#They're like Morticia & Gomez absolutely smitten for each other

#Jason brings a crying & beaten up GIW who has been stalking Danny

#Danny almost swooned

#They start flirting with each other while standing on top of the GIW dude

#Jason's goons are happy that their boss found 'The One' apparently but can they please stop eyefucking each other while they're there and-

~

Just an Idea

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

I WILL SURVIVE BUT NEVER RECOVER

summary :batfam enjoy each other's presence while Alfred and Bruce silently mourns your death.

part 1 of die young

in other universe

before you read !!

AWARNESS - info

- since 2015 , school shootings in the U.S has significantly skyrocketed in comparison to every other decade .

- according to the NCES (National Centre for Education Statistics) during 2020 - 21, there was 93 school shootings , resulting in 43 deaths & 50 injuries.

- there was 332 shooting incidents that occurred in k-12 schools in 2024 , this incident resulted in 267 injuries & fatalities.

- active school shootings typically occur in high-school - about 61.8% .

- many parents grieve the lost of their child , many never recover and end up living their life miserably . This is encouragement to help stop school shootings to prevent innocent children from dying.

Bruce stands in the manor's foyer , his face is maimed with bruises and has grime stuck on it . One hand clutches his bat mask tightly as he stared into the darkness encompassing the long hallway before him. His chest plate is battered , its bat symbol is no longer recognizable , his once pristine cape is now tattered with bullet holes .

He looks so dead - and he feels it , he feels the emptiness. He alone went on patrol tonight , his children did argue - offered to join him tonight, but he declined, and some stubbornly disregarded his declination and attempted to go anyways, but Lord thank Alfred stopping them. Only the two of them understood why he had to go tonight.

They shouldn't have to see how brutal he was tonight - none of them should - none of them should have to witness how he practically almost brutalized some goon for pointing a gun at him - that the sight of that oh so familiar gun brought back memories of him cradling your mutilated body that dreaded day. Or the way he threw rational to the wind as he chased after two face like a mad man for an hour only to dump him in front of blackgate like the scum he was.

He trudges through the darkness of the manor - embraces the quietness and darkness as he slums his tired body against the dining table where his cold dinner sat. He feels bile rising in his throat when he realizes it was placed in front of the same chair you used to always eat in.

He falls to his knees - tears brimming as the memory of your happy small self feeding your plushy a cookie in that same seat. He can practically hear your giggles and the familiar sound of the chair wobbling as you swung your little feet back and forth.

He blinks - and the memory is gone - you are gone - no longer in front of him. He shuffles back on his feet frantically, and like a scared man, he runs away because that was too real - it felt too real - it felt like you were there - like you were home again.

He stumbles up the stairs, and his feet carry him down a familiar route . Even now - when his body is in overdrive - in a panic state - his body still takes him back to you . He stands in front of a familiar door . Yours.

It's lower half is covered in sparkly stickers and a doodled portrait of three stick figures holding hands sticks out. His hands practically shake violently as he pushes open your door .

You stand in front of him , you're wearing the same dress from that day , your hair is styled in the same pig tails he put them and your pink backpack is slung on your shoulders the same way Alfred dropped you off in. You look at him and beamed, " Hello daddy !!" You exclaimed as you embraced his legs - too short to reach his waist.

Bruce doesn't hesitate to crouch down and hug you back , arms encasing you like the precious jewel you were . He feels you snuggling into him like you always did . He pulls you in tighter, and the feel of your familiar warmth and the scent of vanilla perfume fills him.

His heart is beating a mile a minute as he savors everything , " Sweetheart, you're okay !" He exclaims happily as he observes you . He has to force his head to crane back to look at your snuggled up form. Your cute little self turns to him confused , " Why won't I be okay, Daddy ?" You questioned with a tilt of a head as you looked at him.

Bruce blinks and you were gone . He looks down at himself to only reveal his exhausted body slumped to the floor - the same way he did that night when he grieved that night and it's then he starts to choke on his sobs.

How cruel- how dare life torture him like this ? He chokes on his tears even more as he looks around your room - frantically as if to prove to himself you're still here and that was just a nightmare .

It's empty- despite all the stuffed animals , the scattered toys strewn about , the walls filled with your favorite books to pictures and drawings. There , in the middle of your room laid an empty bed - deprived of the usual light of your nightlight you always put on before bed and most important- deprived of your sleepy figure cuddling the mountain of plushies.

Everything is still left untouched since that day they lost you . He feels a drop in the pit of his stomach as he does a once over of your room - you aren't here yet that felt too real - you sounded to real - too alive to be gone .

He forces himself to stand and close your room - he knows Alfred would have his head if he didn't - the old man considers your room as a place of sanctuary - something that had to be preserved and Bruce would never argue with him because he to believes it as sacred himself.

He forces himself to trudge up the hallway towards his own room and open his door . He looks down the hallway one more time - hoping to see you come running after him with your plushy in hand to ask him to read to you or maybe tuck you in.

He waited for a long time, and he was only greeted by cold looming darkness. He wipes away any more brimming tears before he enters his room - only once the door is shut and he collapses on his bed does he allow himself to succumb to his emptiness.

The golden rays adorned the manor angelically , everyone is wide awake and present at the table . Alfred distracts himself from the temptation to drown himself in his own misery with alcohol but chooses to fuss over the children instead.

He feels numb - he feels angry - he feels everything but nothing at the same time . He masks his irritation by choosing to focus on scrambling Bruce's eggs. He won't tell anyone - not even Bruce that the sight of cold dinner sat in front of the chair you used to sit in every morning and evening to eat irked him -

It felt like a sick cruel joke from God as he mocked - no egged him of your absence. He would never tell anyone how he stood there - eyeing that dinner and that chair as he cried his eyes out before he mustered whatever courage he had left to pick it up and throw it promptly in the trash.

He supposed one of the kids innocently placed it there for Bruce last night - something you would definitely do - because you were just that kind and sweet of a person.

Alfred forces himself to breathe when the smell of burnt toast meets his nostrils. He regains his composure and swiftly throws the toast in the bin before restarting.

Bruce enters the dining room - face a bit somber and dull. Bruce has to internally pray that none of his children questions why - he doesn't know what he'd do if he was to be subjected to another interrogation. He slips into his seat , making sure not to eye the familiar , empty seat next to him because he knows if he only does he'd simply break down.

His children immediately filled the sullen air with their happy chatter. He watches in silence, as Jason and Damian fight one another over waffles , Dick and Tim are discussing a movie they want to see , the girls are talking with Duke about some drama with a classmate they knew apparently.

Alfred stands behind him and set his breakfast , "Morning Master Bruce" he greets. " Morning Alfred," he greets back . Bruce detects the lack of 'good' in Alfred's greeting - though Bruce understands why since if it truly were a good morning you would of been here with them.

" Hey B do you want to join us in a shooting range this evening ?" Dick asks - breaking the silence. Bruce felt his world still around him - in the background - you can hear the sound of clattering utensils as Alfred drops whatever he was doing at the sudden inquiry.

Bruce feels himself hyperventilating at the thought of any of his children near that devilish thing called a gun. He's lost too damn much to it - so for the sheer audacity of Dick to suggest this - feels like a cruel joke. He feels the world consuming him as he merely glances at the empty chair next to him and there - a memory of you eating pancakes while singing replays in front of him . This one was the last morning - the last breakfast him and Alfred had with you.

You look at him and flash your innocent smile at him , " Do you want a pancake papa ?" You ask as you held up a pancake towards him. Bruce has to force his eyes to blink before he loses himself and starts to break down.

Your figure disappears once again and then Bruce turns towards Dick , face void of any emotion. Seeing you once again only finalizes his decision , " No and you aren't going there" Bruce says firmly. Everyone at the table stills and looks at him - defiantly. " What the fuck Bruce it's a shooting range it's not that serious" Jason says . " Exactly father if you don't want to join us just say so" Damian says matter of fact.

Bruce feels his blood freeze. " I said no, and not one of you is going " he says firmly - his eyes narrowing as he stares at each one of them. Everyone looks at him - an unspoken defiance and challenge.

" Fine be that way B ," Dick says - fustrated that Bruce had to shut down a family bonding moment. Alfred approaches the table , his face is void of any emotion as well, eyes distant as he pours everyone a class of marmalade .

" I advise you listen to your father young masters" he says finally. Jason practically rolls his eyes and pushes his chair back , " Not when he's being such an asshole Alfred" Jason quips before leaving. The girls and Duke follow him suit - disappointed at the outcome of this morning as they too were excited to go let off steam .

Tim rocks back in his chair before shaking his head in disappointment as he stares at Bruce, him and Dick finally got up and left, storming off elsewhere. Damian was the last to leave - ensuring he glared at his father . Bruce met his glare- equally defiant as he watches his son storm pass him - not before shoving the empty chair back into the table.

Alfred immediately launches forward to brace the chair's impact against the table . Bruce sits there , head hung low as he stared at your chair longingly.

" Oh sweet heart daddy doesn't know what to do anymore "

like + share + comment pls !!

thank you for reading hope you have a good day!

Taglist :@itsmossy @sugarrush-blush @shirp-collector-of-fixations @anteroz @cxcilla @shynerdtriumph @amber-content @azulesworld

[macabrebatz]

SOMETHING THERE (Caged Warcraft Orc/Reader)

Summary: Orcs have invaded your world and you're tasked with taking care of a very angry, very injured imprisoned orc. But he's not the only one that's going to be taken care of.

Author’s Note: Hello, lovelies! A little while ago I got sent an ask here about the captured orc in the movie Warcraft (you can read the post here). I love the concept so much that I just had to write about him. He's unnamed in the movie so I just refer to him as an orc throughout this. This can be read as a generic orc x human story but just know this was written specifically with this big drooling guy in mind. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings/tags: 18+ MDNI, fem! reader, orc x human, canon divergent, smut with some plot, teratophillia/monsterfucking, injured character, conversation about mates, teasing, size difference (this orc is bigger than you no matter your size), let's pretend that Warcraft orcs would actually fit for a moment, fingering, standing sex, rough sex, unprotected p in v, some degradation, possessiveness, he's mean I don't know what else to tell you, choking, hair pulling, semi public sex (?), Lothar makes an appearance, no aftercare, NOT beta read

Word count: 4.7k

Your job had been straightforward for the most part. You were a handmaiden often tasked with cleaning and maintaining the kingdom's dungeons. There had never been many prisoners kept in the lower parts of the castle, not while you had been of service there at least. Most of the time the cells were empty and you were often tasked with taking care of other parts of the castle instead, places frequently overlooked by the other maids.

But all of a sudden you found yourself busier than usual when a handful of knights dragged in a nearly dead creature of the likes you had never seen before. It took multiple men to pull him down the steps of the dungeons and into a barred cell.

Lothar, a man you had become friends with, followed behind his fellow knights, watching as they hovered around the prisoner.

“What exactly is he?” you asked quietly.

You had met all types of denizens of Azeroth. Elves, dwarves, worgen….but never anyone like the large, tusked man that laid before you.

Lothar shrugged, not knowing the answer to the question.

“If I knew I would tell you. They just…showed up. I don’t know where they came from. Or how many there are. We took the other one to the king for questioning. She’s tiny compared to the rest of them,” he mumbled.

You looked down at the floor, staring at the smeared trail of blood leading from the stairs to the cell.

“He’s wounded?” you questioned, looking back at the cell.

“Yes, he was going to attack the other one we captured. Can you keep him alive?” Lothar asked.

You nodded. You had cared for injured and sick prisoners before. Some of them probably wouldn’t have lived if it wasn’t for you.

“I’ll need supplies though.”

“I’ll get you everything you need. Just be careful and try to keep your distance as much as possible. He doesn’t seem to be the friendliest,” he said.

Lothar left you with the other knights, disappearing up the stairs. After a few minutes, he returned with a box of supplies, far more than enough to heal any wounds. He ushered the other knights out and wished you luck as he sauntered away.

You had unlocked the cell and spent a considerable amount of time trying to remove the rugged bone armor and leather from the sleeping creature's chest. You then began cleaning and stitching the stab wound, silently cursing Lothar for creating such a nasty wound to begin with. Never once did the being move or wake. His breathing was weak and a part of you thought he might die right then and there from the amount of blood he had lost.

But his chest continued to rise and fall as you snipped the end of the stitches with your shears. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you sat there for a moment, watching the sleeping creature.

He was large, bigger than any human you had ever seen. He had long greying hair and an untamed beard. Although his eyes were closed you could tell that one had been previously injured, the skin around it scarred and almost red. On the opposite side of his face, a deep scar ran from his lip up the side of his face. There were pieces of metal embedded in the skin where the wound had been closed and healed over the metal.

There was a part of you, deep inside your mind that found the rugged stranger quite attractive. But you ignored that part of your mind, pushing those thoughts aside. You knew nothing about the being that laid before you and you weren’t going to let curiosity get the better of you.

You wrapped a bandage around his shoulder and chest, something that proved to be quite difficult with how large he was. But you managed to do it regardless, securing the bandage so it wouldn’t move.

You stood up and walked out of the cell, closing the door behind you.

There was still blood all over the floor and you quickly turned your attention to that, scrubbing the floors by hand, something you had done time and time again.

About an hour passed and as you found yourself on your knees, scrubbing the last bit of blood off the floor you heard shuffling. You glanced over your shoulder to see the creature waking up, slowly sitting up, reaching for his chest and grimacing in pain.

He shook his head and looked around, growling as he slowly became more conscious. His head turned, stopping when his eyes laid on you. For a moment neither of you moved, staring at each other, but then the creature lurched forward toward the bars and let out a roar. You jumped back in surprise, almost knocking over the bucket of water sitting beside you.

The roar ceased as he grabbed his chest once again, falling onto his knees in pain. Your fear was quickly replaced with worry, standing up quickly and walking closer to the cell.

“You can’t do that. You’ll make the wound open back up,” you said.

He snarled and said something in a language you had never heard before. He sat back against the wall, glaring at you.

“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” you said.

He didn’t say anything else. He just sat there, grumbling and holding his chest.

And that’s how almost every day had gone for weeks. He would over-exert himself out of anger, trying to break through the bars of his cell. You would scold him, telling him he needed to rest, which he would ignore. He would yell at you in his native tongue and you would ignore him, setting down food and water in front of the bars, just enough for him to reach the plate but not you.

Some days the yelling and banging on the bars would get so loud that the knights that stood guard at the entrance of the dungeon came rushing in, scared for your safety. You would shoo them away, assuring the worried knights that you were fine. They were honestly happy to leave, not wanting to be so close to the creature behind the bars.

Not all days were like that though. Sometimes he was quiet, too tired to do his usual routine of raging. On those days you would talk to him while you cleaned or while he sat and ate, filling the void of silence with your voice.

You would just talk about things on your mind, gossip from the other handmaidens, stories you had heard from the knights that would try to flirt with you and impress you with their war stories. The table and chair that had been set out for you slowly inched closer every day as you sat and talked to him during lunch.

You rarely ever had anyone to talk to throughout the day. Sometimes one of the knights would join you for lunch or Lothar would talk with you as you cleaned when he wasn’t busy, but it was a rare occasion. So now you found yourself droning on to the prisoner during your time spent cleaning and your breaks. He didn’t seem to mind but you honestly couldn’t tell. His face often had some form of a grimace on it, a snarl always daring to creep up.

You weren’t sure if he could understand you either until one day, while the two of you ate, you finally asked him a question that had been on your mind.

“What exactly are you? Lothar hasn’t answered the question yet. You’re not human…not an elf. Your teeth are kind of like a troll’s teeth. A bit smaller than theirs though,” you rambled.

You didn’t expect him to say anything. On days like this, he never said anything. After a moment, he broke the silence with one word.

“Orc.”

You looked up from where you sat, glancing through the bars of the cell. He was looking back at you, his working eye staring at you.

“An orc? That’s what you are?” you asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“So you’ve been able to understand me this entire time?”

“Yes.”

He leaned his head back against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the day.

A couple more weeks passed and the caged orc had seemingly calmed down. He no longer yelled and raged on, often sitting in silence.

But sometimes he would speak, occasionally answering questions you had about orcs and his culture. He was often cold, even mean when it came to replying, but you simply shook it off.

You asked him about his cloudy eye and the large scar running up his face. That seemed to perk him up. For the first time in almost a month, his cold demeanor dropped. He told you about the fights he won, boasting about how many times he had come close to death. It was the first time he had ever been talkative. Usually, he would give short responses to your questions but now he was painting vivid pictures for you as he told a story for every scar.

“And this,” he brought his hand up to the healing stab wound on his chest, “is nothing. A scratch.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle.

“You laugh, but it’s true. Your tiny knights couldn’t kill me if they tried,” he said.

“Lothar came pretty close,” you chuckled.

He frowned, a growl escaping his lips as he stood up and slowly walked towards you. You sat just out of reach from him, you had moved your table even closer to the cell over the past few days. Despite his gruff attitude he had begun to grow on you. You enjoyed talking to him and maybe even staring at him a little.

You took a sip from your water as he stepped closer, gripping his hand around one of the metal bars.

“You talk about that one a lot. Is he your mate?” he questioned, his voice low.

The question took you by surprise, causing you to choke on your water.

“No…no. He’s not. We’re not…no,” you said in between coughs.

The orc hummed, sounding almost amused by your answer and frantic coughing.

“No? One of the other knights then? Or one of those handmaidens you’re always talking about?” the orc asked.

You shook your head as you sat your glass down.

“I don’t have a…mate.” The word felt foreign to your lips. You could feel your face heat up as you frowned, averting your eyes from the orc.

There was a small moment of silence before you heard him chuckle, the sound of his voice echoing off the stone walls.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I’m sure you’ll find a puny little knight one of these days. Although I doubt they could keep you satisfied,” he said.

Your jaw dropped a bit, shocked by the sudden forwardness of the orc.

“I think I’ll be satisfied,” you said, scoffing.

“I highly doubt it. The men of your species seem…inadequate,” he said, sitting back down.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. Why was he talking about this? What was he getting at?

You shook your head, deciding to change the subject.

“How is your wound?” you asked.

“I told you. It’s just a scratch,” he mumbled.

“You were stabbed with a sword. You’re lucky you’re even alive,” you sighed.

He scoffed, sounding offended that you would even suggest that he could’ve died.

“May I please check it? To make sure it’s not infected?” you asked.

“I guess,” he grumbled.

You stood up, walking closer to the cell. You swore you could hear Lothar in your mind scolding you for doing exactly what he said not to do. But you couldn’t exactly keep your distance if you wanted to do your job properly.

The orc leaned towards the metal bars as your hands snaked through, untucking the bandages and slowly pulling them off of his chest. The orc grimaced at the sensation, traces of dried blood had caused the bandages to stick to his skin. You hadn’t had the opportunity to clean it. It was the first time since he had first arrived that you felt comfortable enough to get close enough to examine him.

“It looks…fine. It could use a little cleaning though. Wish I had a healing potion to give you but I don’t know any alchemists,” you said in a quiet voice.

“I don’t need any of that,” he grumbled, looking down at you.

“At least let me clean it. Surely dying from infection isn’t the way you want to go,” you joked.

“Fine,” he chuckled.

You smiled. It was odd hearing the orc laugh but you found it slightly endearing.

You turned, grabbing your supplies from the table and turning back around to the orc. You hummed to yourself as you cleaned his skin with a washcloth, wiping away all of the traces of dried blood.

“No mate,” the orc said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

You looked up at him, confused.

“What?”

“You have no mate,” he said.

Really, this subject again?

“Yes, I thought we established this?” you asked.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why are you so interested in this subject?” you mumbled.

“You ask stupid questions all the time. Why can I not ask you a question?” he said.

You rolled your eyes and looked away from him, focusing your attention back on his wound.

“I don’t know. Just haven’t found the right person. Why do you care anyway? It’s not like we could be mates,” you huffed.

“And why is that?”

He was looking down at you. You felt your face heat up a bit as you averted your gaze.

“You’re too…mean. And grumpy. And I’m ninety percent sure you were going to try to kill me for the first few weeks you were here,” you said.

You turned away from him, grabbing a new roll of gauze.

“I’m not trying to kill you now,” he said.

You unrolled the gauze and started wrapping it around his chest.

“Yeah…I know. Can we please drop this subject? It’s not like I would be your type anyway.”

“Type?” he questioned, not understanding the phrase.

“Your type. It’s what you’re attracted to. Now shush and let me finish,” you said.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you. All of a sudden it was becoming very hard to think clearly. Something about being so close to the orc while he was watching your every movement was managing to make your head foggy. Sure, you found him attractive. Something about his ruggedness and size was alluring. But you never expected him to make your knees weak. And he hadn’t even done anything to you.

You did your best to ignore whatever feelings were brewing inside of you as you finished bandaging his chest.

“There,” you said, “all better.”

“Thank you,” the orc grumbled.

The rest of the day came and went quietly, all without a word about the previous conversation. You found yourself staring at him. Your stomach felt fluttery and it was becoming more and more difficult to suppress what you had felt all along.

When you went to bed that night you couldn’t help but repeat the conversation in your head, completely puzzled by the orcs’ fascination with the fact that you were ‘unmated’.

Such an odd thing to be hung up on.

What was worse was that your own fascination with the orc seemed to be getting stronger.

So much so that you couldn’t sleep. You tossed and turned all night, your mind racing just at the thought of the imprisoned orc.

So much so that when you finally did fall asleep, you dreamed about him. You were being held by him in your dream, the same way you had hoped to one day be held by a knight or maybe even a skillful mage. But for some odd reason, the thought of being held by the orc brought you more comfort than every silly knight fantasy you ever had.

So much so that the next day you found yourself scooting your table and chair closer to his cell. Something you had already done but now you were repeating the process every day for a week, slowly inching it closer and closer.

So much so that you started to purposely loosen the laces at the top of your dress. At this point, you weren’t sure what was overtaking your mind. You found yourself wanting to tease him, something you never thought you’d do.

So much so that you had been lingering in the dungeon well past the curfew given to the maids. You wanted to be in his presence. To say he was growing on you was an understatement.

So much so that about a week later when you bent down to pick up his plate, something you had done every day since he arrived, you didn’t walk away from the cell.

This time the orc gripped you by your hair, yanking you back hard against the bars of the cell. You yelped as the plate dropped to the floor. He let go of your hair and his hand snaked through the bars, wrapping it around your throat. His other hand rested on your stomach, holding you in place.

“Are you done teasing?” he asked as his grip tightened around your throat.

“Teasing?” you squeaked.

“Do you really think I’m clueless? Every day you get closer and closer to this cage. You’ve been staying in here late at night. And your breasts have practically been falling out of your dress. It’s almost like you’re begging me to rip it off you,” he growled.

He was absolutely right. You had been caught red-handed.

“Are you going to explain yourself, human?”

He had you pressed against him so tightly that it was almost hard to breathe. You could feel something hardening against your backside and that fluttery feeling started building in your stomach.

“I just…”

“You just what?” he said.

“I just want you to touch me,” you said just above a whisper.

“Say that again. I didn’t quite hear you.”

You couldn’t see his face but you just knew there was a smirk plastered across it.

“Touch me. I want you to touch me,” you repeated.

“Just a few days ago I was ‘too mean’ for you but now look at you. All needy. Maybe if you ask nicely. Maybe if you beg,” he hummed.

Now he was the one teasing. He didn’t move, his hands didn’t even flinch. He just held you tight, pressing you against his erection.

“Please. May you please touch me?”

You were almost whining, pushing back against him. He chuckled, finding your neediness amusing.

He let go of your throat and turned you around so you were facing him. Sticking his hand through the cell, he brought it up to your bust and gripped your dress, ripping the fabric down the front like it was a piece of parchment. You gasped as it fell to the ground, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

“I liked that dress,” you pouted.

Not to mention the fact that it was technically your work uniform. A problem you would deal with later you supposed.

“You look better without it. Now take those off unless you want them ripped as well,” he said, looking down at you.

You nodded as you slipped off your undergarments, tossing them to the side.

He pulled you closer to the bars until you were almost pressed against them, lifting up one of your legs with his hand, cupping underneath your knee. His free hand snaked down and one of his large fingers found its way to your cunt, spreading apart your folds.

“You might as well be dripping. Already so wet and I haven’t even got started yet,” he said.

The orc didn’t give you time to respond as he slowly began pushing his finger inside of you, stretching you out as your walls wrapped around his massive digit. A moan escaped your lips and it echoed throughout the room.

“Sshhh, be quiet,” he shushed you, as he began to pump his finger inside of you.

His thumb rubbed against your clit, drawing little circles around it as his other fingers thrust in and out of your pussy.

You mindlessly ground into his hand, adding to the friction and causing ripples of pleasure to shoot through your body. You had never felt this full before. The size of one of his fingers was almost triple the size of a human’s.

Soon he was adding a second finger, gathering your wetness and pushing into your entrance, curling with every thrust of his hand.

“Gotta stretch you out if you want to take me,” he mumbled, fucking his hand into you at a quicker pace.

Your legs were trembling and you could feel yourself clenching around his fingers. His thumb rolled over your clit faster, pressing down on the sensitive bud.

You did your best to stifle your moan as your orgasm hit you.

“There you go. Cum on my hand,” he said.

One of your hands gripped onto a cell bar while the other reached through, reaching up and pressing against his shoulder for support.

He didn’t give you time to recover before his fingers slipped out of you and his other hand let go of your leg. His hands unfastened his pelt, revealing his hardened cock underneath. It felt like there was a lump in your throat as you swallowed, looking down at it. You could see why he insisted on stretching you out beforehand. You were a bit worried about it fitting inside of you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll fit,” he said as if he could read your mind, “Now turn around and bend over.”

You did as he said, turning your back towards him and leaning down. His hand grazed over your ass for a moment, giving it a light squeeze before he reached forward and grabbed your arms. He held your wrists behind your back, his large hands covering them completely. His other hand held his cock, sliding it against your clit, teasing you with the head.

You groaned, wanting to push back on him, but he held you firmly in place.

He slid his cock towards your entrance and began slowly pushing into the hole. You stretched around him, the feeling felt so new to you that it sent shivers up your spine. Although his fingers had done a good job stretching you out, it was still nowhere enough to accommodate the size of the orcs’ cock.

You felt him tug ever so slightly on your wrists, pulling your entire body closer to him, sliding into you at an agonizing pace.

Another moan began to slip from your mouth, unintentionally loud. Before it could come all the way out, his hand moved from your wrists to your mouth, muffling your moan as he continued slowly pushing his cock into you. He growled, a low rumble coming from his chest.

“Shush, you don’t want your little knights to come running in here, do you? You want them to see you like this?”

You shook your head, slightly horrified at the thought of a knight walking in, especially if that knight happened to be Lothar. You hadn’t even given that possibility a thought.

“Then be quiet for once,” the orc said.

You nodded, and his hand slipped away from your mouth. This time it settled on your shoulder, his other hand slipping off his cock and gripping onto your hip.

He held onto you as he began to slowly rock into you, thrusting the rest of his length into you. Your back arched as pain and pleasure crept up inside of you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked in a patronizing tone.

His hips were slamming against you, he was giving you no amount of time to adjust to his size. His balls slapped against your cunt with every thrust. That and the sound of you squelching around him radiated through the dungeon.

He reached forward, gripping your hair once more, pulling you all the way to the bars. You hissed as he yanked your head back.

“I asked you a question. Is this what you wanted?” he questioned.

“Yes. Ah-yes, this is what I wanted,” you said.

He let go of your hair, pushing you back down with his hand as he continued to pound into you through the cell bars.

“Look at you. Pathetic human. Taking my cock like a greedy slut,” he chuckled.

It was becoming increasingly difficult to hold back your moans. Every thrust was unrelenting. You could feel him sliding against that spongy spot inside of you and it was slowly pushing you closer to the edge.

You were getting louder and louder, whimpering as the orc fucked you.

His thrusts suddenly halted and you whined.

“No, why’d you stop?” you asked, near tears.

“I thought I told you to be quiet?”

“You did but-“

“But what?” he said.

“Please keep fucking me. I don’t care if they hear us. I only care about you,” you pleaded.

You weren’t sure what had overcome you but it was true. In that moment all you cared about was the orc behind you.

There was a brief pause before the orcs’ hands were wrapping around you, pulling you as close as he possibly could despite the cell bars between you. It was like something snapped in him as he began rutting into you, burying his cock deep inside of you with every roll of his hips.

You moaned, not caring if anyone heard you. You were so wrapped up in the pleasure that you weren’t even sure if you cared anymore if someone walked in.

“You’re mine, do you understand? I’ve ruined you. None of those pathetic knights can have this,” the orc growled behind you.

You were at a loss for words as ecstasy washed over you, too in a daze to answer.

“You don’t want them anyway, huh? I’ve stretched you out so much that only I’ll be able to satisfy you.”

You didn’t say anything but your body answered for you, clenching around his cock as he fucked you. And he noticed, grip tightening around you almost immediately like he was afraid you’d somehow slip away.

“Oh, you like that? You like that I’ve ruined you for everyone else? You want me to make you my mate, don’t you?” he said.

You found yourself nodding your head, not even thinking about it. Maybe it was just the pleasure or maybe there was truly something else. Something there deep in the back of your mind that wanted more of him.

“All mine,” he groaned.

Your body shook as you reached your second climax, moaning as you tightened around him.

“That’s it. That’s it. Cum on my cock. Just like that,” he grunted, still thrusting into you.

You were whimpering underneath him, slowly becoming overstimulated as he chased his own high, bucking into you. His cock twitched as he moaned, cumming deep inside of you. His hands were still wrapped around you, holding you through the bars as he filled you up.

Before you could pull away there were sounds of footsteps coming down the stairs.

Your mind was too foggy to even react when you looked up, seeing the all too familiar face of Lothar stopping at the dungeon entrance.

“Oh my….what are you two…put some clothes on!”

Lothar had covered his eyes with his hand, completely in shock.

The orc chuckled, letting go of you completely. Your legs buckled underneath you and you stumbled forward, slipping off his cock and falling to the ground.

You heard the jingle of keys before they were tossed near you, sliding on the stone floor.

“I was coming to let him out. He can thank his chieftain. I’m just…I’m going to go,” Lothar said, rushing out of the room.

You laid on the floor for a moment. Too exhausted to move, too embarrassed as well. You could feel the orc’s cum leaking out of you onto the stone. You would’ve fallen asleep right there if it wasn’t for the voice of the orc pulling you back to reality.

“Are you going to lay there all day or are you going to let me out, my sweet mate?”